Allow Me to Exaggerate A Memory or Two :: Chapter Eight (8/8)
Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight
CHAPTER EIGHT
iggory and Brendon had entered the lake, and Diggory had come out.
That was enough to have Spencer seriously worried, and by the way the professors clustered tight around Diggory, it was clear that he wasn't the only one.
“What's happening?” Jon said beside him. “What's wrong?”
“I don't know.”
“Did something happen to Brendon?”
“I don't know.”
The group around Diggory broke up, and Diggory took off in one direction, with professors Sprout and Sinistra waving one broom each to them and flying off, too. Professor Flitwick remained where he was, poring over a map. Spencer made up his mind and stalked over.
“Professor,” he said, tapping Professor Flitwick's shoulder and stepping back a pace when Flitwick jumped and turned nervously.
“Yes?” he squeaked, his voice even higher than usual. “Are you enjoying the orienteering?”
Spencer took a deep breath. However frightened he was, he was not going to shout at a professor.
“Right now we're just worried,” he managed. “Where's Brendon?”
Professor Flitwick coughed. “It's nothing for you to be scared about,” he said, with forced cheerfulness. “Why don't you just go back to watching the-”
“Professor,” Spencer said. “He's my-” He became aware of Jon and Lovegood, standing just behind him, and amended the sentence. “He's our best friend.”
“Was it a Hamstolter?” Lovegood asked, in hushed and frightened tones.
Professor Flitwick smiled weakly. “No, Miss Lovegood, Mr Urie was not taken by the Hamstolters.” He hesitated, then went on, “I really don't want you to worry. But Mr Urie has-disappeared.” He saw the doubtless horrified expressions on their faces and hurried on, “We believe some sort of involuntary Apparition. Nothing more sinister.”
“You can't Apparate or Disapparate inside the Hogwarts grounds,” Lovegood said in a mildly reproachful tone. Professor Flitwick's lips twitched.
“You are quite right, of course, Miss Lovegood. Nevertheless, under-age magic can be unpredictable and some sort of variation on the spell, if not a true Apparition, appears to be what occurred.”
Spencer and the others exchanged glances. They all knew that Brendon's Dark Magic could have unforeseen results.
“So where is he?” Spencer asked, although he suspected he already knew the answer to that.
Professor Flitwick looked embarrassed. “We haven't managed to locate him yet. He has disappeared off the map. But as I said, I don't want you to worry. We are all searching for him, and if Mr Urie was truly in trouble, we'd know. We have a warning system in place.”
He smiled at them but didn't manage the reassurance he must have been hoping for. Spencer was sure the other two were thinking the same thing as him-if one of their systems had failed, what was to say another couldn't, as well?
They huddled together, waiting anxiously as student after student made it back and was ticked off on Professor Flitwick's chart. Ross arrived back eventually, the pleased grin on his face freezing when he saw their faces.
“What's wrong?” he asked, hurrying past the professor.
“Brendon's missing,” Spencer said quietly. “The other professors and Diggory are out looking for him now.”
“What?” Ross made as if to get on his broom again. “We have to-”
“We can't be any help right now,” Spencer interrupted. “We just have to wait. They're already out looking-if we go, as well, we'll probably just be going over ground they've already covered”
Ross looked as though he was about to protest, but eventually he gave a grudging nod, crossing his arms and pressing his lips together.
Over two thirds of the students were back and the orienteering was winding towards its end before they had any news. Professor Sprout came flying towards them, closely followed by Professor Sinistra.
Professor Sprout landed inelegantly, swinging her leg over her broomstick quickly and hurrying over to Professor Flitwick. “We found him, Filius,” she said, “but he's-” She stopped and seemed to notice the four of them huddling nearby, all of them listening intently. She started to frown, her gaze running over them each in turn.
“Please, Professor,” Ross said, just as Professor Flitwick said, “They're his friends. I think they need to hear this, as well.”
Professor Sprout still seemed to hesitate, but then she nodded.
“Mr Urie is in a clearing not far from Professor Hagrid's cottage,” she said. “He's fine.” She paused for a moment, and seemed to be searching for words.
“There are complications,” she said.
rendon tried to move his shoulders again. He could move his right arm freely, and as far as he could tell everything seemed all right. His head was free, and he could feel his right shoulder to the point where his spine met his neck.
After that, however, it got-strange. It wasn't that he couldn't feel his left arm as such, more like...
“Brendon!”
Brendon looked up and grinned. Ryan, Jonathan, Luna and Spencer were all running towards him, with Professors Sprout and Flitwick in tow.
“Are you all right?” Ryan asked, staring up at him.
“I'm fine,” Brendon said, because he felt fine. The horror of the moment in the lake had been short-lived, and he'd found himself in this rather nice clearing, with the last rays of the sun shining down between the leaves and warming his skin.
“But you're-” Ryan paused, hesitating. “The tree and you, you're-” he tried and stopped again.
“I know, weird, right?” Brendon said. He patted his robes where the colour changed from black to brown and the cloth hardened, the folds of the robes shifting seamlessly into folds of the tree's bark.
“Mr Urie,” Professor Flitwick said, “I wonder if I could just, just ask you a few questions. To begin with, can you feel your right arm?”
“Yes, Professor,” Brendon said, waggling his fingers cheerfully.
“And your left arm?”
“Um,” Brendon said, because this was the part he was a little uncertain of. “I can feel my leaves.”
They all stared at him.
“My goodness,” Professor Flitwick said eventually, and there was something a little like awe in his voice. “An actual Splice. We studied the magic behind them in a Beauxbatons seminar once, but I must say I never expected to-”
“Filius,” Professor Sprout murmured.
“What? Oh, yes.” Professor Flitwick peered at Brendon. “No discomfort? No squeezing sensation?”
“Just fine, Professor,” Brendon said. “What's a Splice?”
“I believe you are familiar with the concept of Splinching?” Professor Flitwick said. Brendon winced. Matt had delighted in stories of his friends' failed Apparition exams with the glee of one who passed his on the first attempt, and several of them involved spectacular instances of Splinching. The others made similar expressions of discomfort-except for Jonathan, who looked uncomprehending, and Luna, who just looked interested. Professor Flitwick seemed to notice Jonathan's confusion, because he went on, “Splinching is when someone Apparates inefficiently, essentially splitting themselves into two pieces-usually the result of a lack in focus. One needs skilled operatives to undo a Splinching...”
Professor Sprout cleared her throat.
“A Splice represents a much rarer form of failed Apparition,” Professor Flitwick continued. “It happens when a Apparator, focused enough but with a faulty appreciation of their exact target, fuses with whatever object occupies the space they are Apparating to. Like I said, this is extremely uncommon.” He glanced quickly at Luna, who was frowning at him, and added, “Although in this case it is redundant to talk about it in terms of Apparition at all, since whatever Mr Urie managed is, of course, not a true Apparition.”
“Filius,” Professor Sprout said, “what can we do?”
Professor Flitwick shook his head thoughtfully, still staring at Brendon. Brendon waved at him.
“I'll need to contact someone from the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad,” Professor Flitwick said. “I would not dare undoing this on my own. Splices are largely uncatalogued, and we need someone with expertise.”
He and Professor Sprout looked at each other.
“Mr Diggory and Aurora are taking care of the last of the orienteering,” she said. “You go, I'll stay here.”
The last rays of sun disappeared over the horizon, and the world's golden colour started fading into grey.
“And you should probably hurry,” she added.
he novelty of the situation lasted for the first half hour or so. Brendon invited them up into his branches, something accepted enthusiastically by Luna, who immediately began studying the seam between Brendon's skin and the tree's bark, and more hesitantly by Ryan. He noticed, however, that both Spencer and Jon declined the invitation, and when he regarded Brendon more closely, he saw that Brendon was very carefully not looking at Spencer at all.
He sighed inwardly. He'd hoped this crisis would be enough for them to overcome their disagreement. Apparently being accidentally fused with a tree still wasn't serious enough to warrant that, however.
When the clock passed ten, Professor Sprout tried again to lift the idea of the rest of them going inside while she stayed with Brendon, but they all refused as politely as they could. The idea of leaving Brendon alone in the woods without hardly any company, just waiting for some blank-faced government wizards and witches to cut him out of the tree, did not appeal to any of them-even if the woods were growing colder by the minute.
The half hour since Professor Flitwick left them turned into a whole hour and then an hour and a quarter. Luna had been distracted from her inspection of Brendon's Splice and was now sitting on the ground next to Jon and Spencer and levitating pebbles, trying to form a constellation in the air which Ryan thought could be either Draco or Hydra-it was hard to tell with the way Jon kept plucking pebbles from the constellation when Luna wasn't looking. She was getting annoyed, Ryan could tell, but still amused enough by the added challenge that she hadn't jinxed him yet.
“So,” he said quietly, shifting his position on the branch he was perching on and turning to Brendon-or at least, the part of Brendon that still looked like Brendon. “Are you still mad at Spencer?”
Brendon didn't say anything, but he turned his face as far away as he could.
“I don't think he meant any harm,” Ryan said. Brendon snorted.
“No, he just got someone sacked. There's nothing wrong about that at all.”
“Professor Lupin is a werewolf,” Ryan said. “I don't think it was right of Spencer to do what he did, either, but I think he was just worried.”
“Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have let Professor Lupin teach here if it wasn't safe,” Brendon said stubbornly, echoing what he'd said many times already since the fight.
“It isn't always possible to be rational about things like this,” Ryan said. He patted the branch he was sitting on hesitantly. It still felt strange, thinking of the tree as Brendon. “I still think you should talk to him.”
“He won't admit he's wrong at all,” Brendon said. “He acts like he's only got to explain it to me and I'll understand, like I'm some kid and he's my parent explaining why I've done something bad. He won't listen.”
Ryan glanced at him. Brendon was looking angry in a way Ryan had very seldom seen him, jaw set and brow furrowed. The placating sentence he'd been trying out in his head froze in his throat, and he sighed and turned away, looking down towards the others instead.
Jon and Luna were now laughing together, throwing pebbles at each other, and Ryan saw that Spencer had got up and was standing close to Professor Sprout.
“What's taking so long?” he heard Spencer ask. “I thought the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad had a response time of six and a half minutes.”
“This is not a classic Splinching scenario,” Professor Sprout said. “I believe Mr Urie's Splice won't have shown up in their tracing system. So there's red tape to consider-since it's not an urgent situation exactly, they'll have to go through the bureaucracy of an official request for assistance.”
Ryan saw Spencer nod grudgingly and rolled his eyes. Probably only Spencer could have understood that.
He turned his gaze away and looked up through the leaves-through Brendon's leaves, he thought, smiling to himself-at the sky above. He could make out Delphinus and part of Cygnus in the patches of clear sky between the milky-white clouds. And then the clouds parted, and the moon shone out, white and brilliant like a giant Sickle.
“That's pretty,” he said. Brendon twisted his head, then made an annoyed sound.
“You'll have to describe it,” he said. “Apparently I can't-”
There was a scream from somewhere in the grounds, cut off suddenly, then a bang and then another. Ryan froze, straining to hear where the noises had come from. He could see Jon, Luna and Spencer all staring in the direction of the castle. Professor Sprout took a few steps forward, her wand in her hand.
“It came from over by the Whomping Willow,” Ryan said, pointing out the direction, and was about to continue when he was brought up short.
A howl had gone up, ululating on a rising note and finishing with a growling whine.
“Sweet Agrippa,” Professor Sprout whispered.
“What was that?” Spencer asked, his voice rising. “Who was that?”
“He should have taken his Potion,” Professor Sprout said, “but in that case he-”
Spencer leapt to his feet, backing towards Brendon's tree. “It is Professor Lupin,” he said, not even bothering to phrase it as a question. “It's the full moon tonight!”
Professor Sprout seemed to shake herself out of her own reverie. “How do you know about-” she began, but trailed off when she, too, heard the noise. There was a crashing coming from in front of them, as of a large animal trampling its way through the forest.
“Get behind me,” she managed, and then the wolf was there in front of them.
It had been in some kind of altercation-there were cuts on its muzzle and blood matting its fur on one flank. Its jaws dripped dark red in the moonlight. Spencer sucked in breath sharply, pressing his back against the trunk of the tree. Ryan fumbled for his wand, sudden panic making him clumsy.
“I need you to stay behind me and not make any sudden movements,” Professor Sprout said through gritted teeth. She was standing stock still, gripping her wand tightly. “It's possible that it will-”
The wolf leapt.
The ground erupted as a tree root-thick as Ryan's leg-rose and, trailing dirt as it whipped through the air, hit the wolf in the mouth. The animal howled as it was bowled over in the air, landing with a dull thump and considerable lack of elegance several yards away.
“Brendon?” Ryan said quietly. Brendon was breathing hard, staring at the wolf.
“I didn't think about it,” he said. “I just wanted to-”
“Everyone, get into the tree right now,” Professor Sprout said, her wand hand outstretched in front of her, her eyes not leaving the wolf, which was trying to get to its feet again. “Now, Mr Walker, Miss Lovegood. Hurry!”
Ryan reached down quickly, giving Spencer a hand up. On the other side of the tree, Jon was helping Luna hoist herself onto a branch.
There was a flash of light, and the wolf leapt back and rolled, whining, then advanced. Another flash of light had it retreating for a moment, but then it shook itself and opened its mouth in a threatening grimace, baring teeth already wet with blood.
“Why doesn't it give up?” Ryan whispered, as the wolf leapt forward again only to be knocked back for the second time by the unearthed tree root, still waving back and forth vaguely in front of Professor Sprout, creating a flimsy barrier between her and the animal. “It's hurt!”
“Its not a normal wolf,” Spencer said tightly. “It's a werewolf. It has to attack humans-it's built in-”
There was a bang, and the wolf screamed, rolling backwards and pawing at its muzzle. Professor Sprout looked around wildly, then raised her wand again.
“Accio!” she shouted, and Ryan saw her broomstick, several yards away, rise from the ground and fly towards her.
The wolf uncoiled and leapt in one, fluid moment. It bore the broomstick to the ground, and they all heard the sharp crack as the handle snapped.
“Oh, no,” Ryan heard Luna say softly, on the other side of Brendon's trunk. What he could see of Professor Sprout's face had gone very pale. The wolf snapped at the broomstick's bristles, whining with annoyance.
“It must smell human,” Spencer said. As Ryan looked at him, he took a new and firm grip on the branch he was using to hold himself upright, and took his wand out of his pocket.
“Stupefy!” he shouted.
The red light of the Stunner hit the wolf squarely in its flank, and it was lifted off its feet and thrown several yards backwards. It immediately started to scrabble to its feet again, albeit sluggishly, and Spencer looked at his wand as if it had malfunctioned.
“Stupefy doesn't work well on werewolves,” Ryan said distantly. His mind felt like a complete blank. He was trying to think of a spell or hex to cast, but the only one he could bring to mind however hard he tried was the Disarming Charm, something that definitely wouldn't work on the werewolf. They'd all learnt several protective spells last year-although Spencer was the only one who had properly managed the Stupefying Charm-but he didn't seem to remember any of them.
“Slows it down, though,” Spencer said grimly, and cast another Stunner at the wolf, this one making it roll over several times before crashing into the nearest tree.
There was a creaking noise, and several more of Brendon's tree roots ripped out of the ground.
“Professor!” Brendon shouted. “Professor, you have to climb up as well!”
Professor Sprout hesitated. The wolf was starting to get to its feet again. She seemed to make up her mind, and thrust her wand into the bun of her hair suddenly, then stretched both hands out it front of her. The ground exploded, showering the wolf with dirt and pebbles. It yelped, but crouched down low to avoid the worst of the blast.
That wasn't the main point of it, though. Pine trees were shooting out of the ground all around them, unfolding branch after branch like prickly brushes. Vines of poison ivy and gill-over-the-ground snaked through the air, latching onto Brendon's roots and binding them tight together with the trees. In a matter of seconds, they were surrounded by a thick barrier of vegetation. The wolf, leaping at it, was forced to retreat with its mouth full of pine needles and blue sparks dancing around its nose.
“Of course,” Ryan said quietly, recalling Professor Flitwick's lectures on the effects of combining physical protection with magical, rather than relying on a simple Shield Charm. “That's amazing.”
“It won't hold,” Brendon said.
“What?” Ryan turned towards him, frowning, and then saw what Brendon meant. Although still growing, the pine trees were gradually going brown, needles pattering down on the ground like rain. The gill-over-the-ground, which had burst into violent bloom as it grew, was shedding its flowers.
“It isn't stable,” Brendon said. “Something forced up that quickly can't stay. Professor!”
Professor Sprout didn't even turn her head. Ryan could see that her hands, still stretched out in front of her, were beginning to shake. “Do not get out of that tree, whatever you do,” she called. “With a little luck, it shouldn't be able to reach you. Do not leave the tree.”
The wolf was pacing back and forth outside the barrier, now and again lunging at a weak spot but always hurled back. Ryan looked around, desperate to find some way to help Professor Sprout. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked to his right to see Brendon's free hand clenching and unclenching slowly.
“What are-” he began, and then Brendon moved, stretching his arm out in front of him. Ryan followed the line it was pointing, and saw the forlorn pieces of Professor Sprout's broomstick shudder into motion and then shoot forward. One after the other, they whistled close over the wolf's head, making it howl and roll, then disappeared into the forest.
The wolf rose, bared its teeth in a fierce growl, and without even a glance at the rest of them, bounded after the broom.
The silence after it had disappeared almost seemed to echo.
“Merlin and all his magic,” Professor Sprout said, sagging to her knees.
“I didn't think it would work,” Brendon mumbled. “I thought it would keep attacking us. But I had to try something.”
There was the sound of people moving quickly through the forest, and Professor Flitwick hurried into the clearing, flanked by two witches and a wizard in Ministry robes. He stared in shock at the hedge of browning and disintegrating pine trees, and then up at Brendon and the others, all standing in various poses of profound relief in his branches.
“Pomona?” he squeaked.
“I'm here,” Professor Sprout called, waving a hand and making a couple of the branches hiding her from view bend apart. She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. “And may I suggest that whatever it is you're going to do, you do it very fast.”
reakfast the day after was subdued. Half an hour's work or so had freed Brendon from the tree, but he had been whisked away to the Hospital Wing for extensive tests and the rest of them had been bundled off to bed. Spencer hadn't seen Brendon again until this morning, when they'd met at the breakfast table. He'd been unsure of how to act-they hadn't managed to talk at all the night before, and he wasn't certain their fight was over yet. But when he'd stood by the breakfast table, wondering how to act, Brendon had simply eased aside on the bench, leaving a space for him. They had eaten in silence, and even though it was a tense one, it was still quite companionable.
Some sort of truce, perhaps, Spencer thought.
When breakfast was almost over, Professor Snape stopped by their table.
“Fifth-years,” he said, “your Defence Against the Dark Arts class is cancelled today.”
“Is Professor Lupin sick again, Professor?” Gendel asked loudly, making his class mates laugh. “If I didn't know better, Professor, I'd say someone was taking any excuse not to teach us.”
“Now, Mr Gendel,” Professor Snape said, and Spencer realised with a sinking feeling what was about to happen when he saw the small smile growing on his face, “you really must try to be more understanding. It was the full moon last night, after all, and I understand the transformation takes a lot out of you.”
All conversation along the table stopped. Pansy Parkinson stood for the first scream.
“He's a werewolf?”
As if she had broken a dam, her shout was the signal for everyone to start talking at once.
“I can't believe he-”
“He always seemed so nice and-”
“I'm writing to my parents-”
“I let him touch me!”
The screams and shouts were spreading to the other tables now, with the Hufflepuffs leaning over to ask the Ravenclaws what all the fuss was about and the Gryffindors starting to stand up on the other side of the Great Hall, throwing puzzled looks in their direction. Spencer kept watching Professor Snape, whose smile had blossomed into a full smirk of satisfaction. Then he felt movement beside him, and he turned to see Brendon rising abruptly from the table and hurry out of the Great Hall.
Spencer hesitated, then stood up as well. “I'm telling my father about this,” he muttered for the benefit of anyone who might be paying attention to him and followed Brendon.
He caught up with Brendon just outside the castle's main doors. Brendon was striding angrily in the direction of the green houses, his arms stiff and his walk jerky.
“How could Professor Snape do that?” he snapped, as Spencer ran up to him. “In front of the whole school? Professor Lupin will never be able to find another job now.”
Spencer tried to shrug and jog along beside Brendon at the same time.
“It's just really mean,” Brendon continued. “I don't understand why he would do that.”
Spencer kept a careful silence at that. He wasn't sure if it had escaped Brendon or not that Professor Snape loathed Professor Lupin, but he felt that in either case it wouldn't help to mention this now.
Brendon stopped suddenly. He sighed noisily, then flung himself down against the castle wall, glaring towards the green houses and, beyond them, the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
“It isn't fair,” he said. “Professor Lupin is really nice.”
Spencer nodded silently, then slid down slowly to lean against the castle wall, too. He wanted to reach out and touch Brendon's shoulder, but thought by the way that Brendon was hunched into himself that it might be a bad idea right now. “I am sorry about Professor Lupin,” he said. “I know you liked him. I mean, I did too. And I didn't want it to go like this. I didn't want it shouted out that he's a werewolf.”
Brendon didn't say anything, just kept watching his feet.
“You could have said told you so,” he said eventually.
Spencer shrugged, not looking at him. “You were right,” he said. “I overheard Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick talking while the Ministry people were getting you out of the tree. Professor Lupin was supposed to take some potion that would keep him safe. So he wouldn't actually be dangerous to us.”
Brendon shook his head. “He was, though,” he said quietly. “So you were right, too.”
“Still,” Spencer said, “I get it.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I wrote to my father. And-it wasn't about whether it was right or not for a werewolf to be teaching us, or about the letter of the law or anything like that. It was about me being scared.”
Brendon didn't say anything for a while. “Is it that easy, then?” he asked eventually. “For you. If you're scared of someone, you just write to your father?”
Spencer frowned, confused. “Of course I do. He's my father.”
“No, I mean-” Brendon shrugged irritably. “I mean, you can just make them disappear?”
“It isn't like that,” Spencer said immediately, then hesitated. He didn't know how to make Brendon understand that it would never work like that, as though Spencer only had to snap his fingers and his father would make sure the world fell into place around him. He was the eldest son of the Smith family, not a spoiled child asking for favours.
It was hard to explain, too, that his father would never have someone sacked. For that matter, it would be unnecessary. Spencer's father's work in the Ministry and the Wizengamot was all about knowing when to push and when to just lay a finger gently on an already tipping scale. Making a fuss and forcing someone out was crude and pointless, when a few well-placed arguments would do the same job more cleanly.
“I just wanted him to know about it,” he said, which wasn't entirely true but about as close as he thought he could get without entangling himself in explanations. Even if he knew his father's pull, he knew better than to count on his father using it for him. “I never asked him to fix anything. I just wanted him to know. And-I mean-of course he would do what he thought was best for me, but I never asked him for anything like that.”
He glanced at Brendon, but Brendon was if anything looking even unhappier. There was another long pause.
“I really hurt you with that Shield Charm last year,” Brendon said suddenly.
Spencer blinked and was about to ask what that had to do with anything, then caught up and realised Brendon's full meaning. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. He had no idea of what to say.
“I could never just make someone disappear,” he said at last. “And I wouldn't, either, even if I could.” He paused, then said more deliberately, “I'm not scared of you.”
There was so much more he wanted to say, but he didn't know how to say any of it. So instead he just sat, hoping some of it would come through anyway, and when Brendon shook the tension out of his shoulders and gave him a cautious smile, he smiled back.
ovegood gave her Pouncing Primulas arrangement a critical once-over, then turned to Spencer.
“Have you made up, then?” she asked.
Spencer blinked at her. “Who?”
“You and Brendon,” she said, “of course.” She glanced at her arrangement again and caught a Primula that was trying to lever itself out of the pot just in time, grasping the offending roots and pushing them firmly back into the soil. “Did you work things out?”
Spencer looked up from his flowers and towards the front of the class room, where Brendon and Jon were currently in line to present their own arrangements for Professor Sprout.
“I think so,” he said. “Maybe. I'm not sure. It isn't as simple as I thought it was.”
“I thought it might be something like that,” Lovegood said. She stood back and turned her pot a few times, inspecting it from every angle. “I think it's good for Brendon to know that you are Spencer, not just Spencer Smith,” she said.
Spencer frowned, confused. “But I am Spencer Smith,” he said.
Lovegood laughed. “You are very silly sometimes, Spencer Smith,” she said. He rolled his eyes.
“And you are very strange sometimes, Lovegood,” he said, then blushed. He hadn't exactly meant to say that out loud.
Lovegood only smiled at him, however.
“You ought to call me Luna,” she said. “I don't know why you don't.”
Spencer didn't have time to come up with an answer to that, because at that moment Jon and Brendon arrived back.
“Hey,” Jon said, “we've been talking. So last year we had a Basilisk in the school, and this year there was a werewolf. What do you think we'll get next year? I'm going to go with dragons.”
“Oh, I hope a Snorkack,” Lovegood said.
“A banshee,” Brendon said, grinning. “It could be hiding in one of the seventh floor class rooms and we'd only hear it scream now and again.” He turned to Spencer. “What do you think? What kind of monster are we going to have at the school next year?”
Spencer shrugged. “I don't have to guess,” he said. “I already know.” And then, when they were all watching him in surprise, he sighed and continued, “My sisters are starting at Hogwarts this autumn.”
he sun was extremely hot, and Brendon fanned his face with his hand. He and Ryan were sitting by the lake, enjoying a respite from lessons. Two days from now, the Hogwarts Express would be coming to take them back home, and everyone was making as much use as they could from the final days with their school mates.
Ryan had been trying to plait a few strands of grass together, but now he gave up and tossed them away.
“Did you know that Sirius Black was caught?” he said.
Brendon blinked, shook his head. “What?”
“Carmichael told me. He was caught that same night as you-you know.” Ryan looked embarrassed for a moment, then grinned. “But then they lost him.”
Brendon stared at him. “You're kidding.”
“Don't know if it's true, of course. Carmichael says all sorts of things.”
Brendon thought about this. “So they're still going to have the protection on Hogwarts next year? I mean, he's still going after Hogwarts, right? Even if he was caught once?”
“I guess.” Ryan shrugged. “They're going to remove the Dementors from the school, though.”
Brendon breathed in and out slowly. “Really?” he said, trying to keep his voice even.
Ryan nodded. “I heard Professor Vector and Professor Flitwick talking about it,” he said. “Apparently they-the Dementors-they attacked someone.”
“I'm glad,” Brendon said, with feeling. “That they're leaving, I mean.” It wasn't quite as bad, being forced to see those memories when he knew they were going to appear, but he was relieved he'd never have them dragged out of him again.
Ryan fidgeted, then sighed. “I think I heard my dad,” he said quietly. “Fighting with my mum. That's what I heard when the Dementors came close, someone fighting with my mum. I think he was Muggle.”
Brendon looked at him. Ryan was staring into the distance.
“I think my mum didn't tell him she was magic,” Ryan went on. “And I think he found out when I started showing my magic. He left after that.”
“That wasn't your fault,” Brendon said, aware of how pathetically inadequate that sounded.
“I know that,” Ryan said. “But I wonder why she didn't tell him.”
“I don't know,” Brendon said. “Maybe you should ask her.”
Ryan shrugged dismissively. “It isn't very important,” he said. He looked back at Brendon. “How's your arm now?”
It was a flimsy excuse for changing the subject, but Brendon accepted it. After all, he didn't like talking about what the Dementors made him see, either. “Fine,” he said, waving his left arm. “Not like a branch at all.”
Ryan grinned at him. “So that's good.”
“Yeah.”
They sat in silence, baking in the quiet warmth. Nothing had much energy today, it seemed-not even the insects were buzzing very loudly.
Ryan brushed a hand across his forehead, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Wow, it's so hot,” he said.
Brendon smiled.
A light breeze sprang up, tousling their hair and cooling their faces. Ryan blinked, looking at Brendon suspiciously.
“Did you do that?”
Brendon laughed and leaned back on his hands, letting the wind wash over him.
“Maybe,” he said.
THE END
CHAPTER EIGHT
iggory and Brendon had entered the lake, and Diggory had come out.
That was enough to have Spencer seriously worried, and by the way the professors clustered tight around Diggory, it was clear that he wasn't the only one.
“What's happening?” Jon said beside him. “What's wrong?”
“I don't know.”
“Did something happen to Brendon?”
“I don't know.”
The group around Diggory broke up, and Diggory took off in one direction, with professors Sprout and Sinistra waving one broom each to them and flying off, too. Professor Flitwick remained where he was, poring over a map. Spencer made up his mind and stalked over.
“Professor,” he said, tapping Professor Flitwick's shoulder and stepping back a pace when Flitwick jumped and turned nervously.
“Yes?” he squeaked, his voice even higher than usual. “Are you enjoying the orienteering?”
Spencer took a deep breath. However frightened he was, he was not going to shout at a professor.
“Right now we're just worried,” he managed. “Where's Brendon?”
Professor Flitwick coughed. “It's nothing for you to be scared about,” he said, with forced cheerfulness. “Why don't you just go back to watching the-”
“Professor,” Spencer said. “He's my-” He became aware of Jon and Lovegood, standing just behind him, and amended the sentence. “He's our best friend.”
“Was it a Hamstolter?” Lovegood asked, in hushed and frightened tones.
Professor Flitwick smiled weakly. “No, Miss Lovegood, Mr Urie was not taken by the Hamstolters.” He hesitated, then went on, “I really don't want you to worry. But Mr Urie has-disappeared.” He saw the doubtless horrified expressions on their faces and hurried on, “We believe some sort of involuntary Apparition. Nothing more sinister.”
“You can't Apparate or Disapparate inside the Hogwarts grounds,” Lovegood said in a mildly reproachful tone. Professor Flitwick's lips twitched.
“You are quite right, of course, Miss Lovegood. Nevertheless, under-age magic can be unpredictable and some sort of variation on the spell, if not a true Apparition, appears to be what occurred.”
Spencer and the others exchanged glances. They all knew that Brendon's Dark Magic could have unforeseen results.
“So where is he?” Spencer asked, although he suspected he already knew the answer to that.
Professor Flitwick looked embarrassed. “We haven't managed to locate him yet. He has disappeared off the map. But as I said, I don't want you to worry. We are all searching for him, and if Mr Urie was truly in trouble, we'd know. We have a warning system in place.”
He smiled at them but didn't manage the reassurance he must have been hoping for. Spencer was sure the other two were thinking the same thing as him-if one of their systems had failed, what was to say another couldn't, as well?
They huddled together, waiting anxiously as student after student made it back and was ticked off on Professor Flitwick's chart. Ross arrived back eventually, the pleased grin on his face freezing when he saw their faces.
“What's wrong?” he asked, hurrying past the professor.
“Brendon's missing,” Spencer said quietly. “The other professors and Diggory are out looking for him now.”
“What?” Ross made as if to get on his broom again. “We have to-”
“We can't be any help right now,” Spencer interrupted. “We just have to wait. They're already out looking-if we go, as well, we'll probably just be going over ground they've already covered”
Ross looked as though he was about to protest, but eventually he gave a grudging nod, crossing his arms and pressing his lips together.
Over two thirds of the students were back and the orienteering was winding towards its end before they had any news. Professor Sprout came flying towards them, closely followed by Professor Sinistra.
Professor Sprout landed inelegantly, swinging her leg over her broomstick quickly and hurrying over to Professor Flitwick. “We found him, Filius,” she said, “but he's-” She stopped and seemed to notice the four of them huddling nearby, all of them listening intently. She started to frown, her gaze running over them each in turn.
“Please, Professor,” Ross said, just as Professor Flitwick said, “They're his friends. I think they need to hear this, as well.”
Professor Sprout still seemed to hesitate, but then she nodded.
“Mr Urie is in a clearing not far from Professor Hagrid's cottage,” she said. “He's fine.” She paused for a moment, and seemed to be searching for words.
“There are complications,” she said.
rendon tried to move his shoulders again. He could move his right arm freely, and as far as he could tell everything seemed all right. His head was free, and he could feel his right shoulder to the point where his spine met his neck.
After that, however, it got-strange. It wasn't that he couldn't feel his left arm as such, more like...
“Brendon!”
Brendon looked up and grinned. Ryan, Jonathan, Luna and Spencer were all running towards him, with Professors Sprout and Flitwick in tow.
“Are you all right?” Ryan asked, staring up at him.
“I'm fine,” Brendon said, because he felt fine. The horror of the moment in the lake had been short-lived, and he'd found himself in this rather nice clearing, with the last rays of the sun shining down between the leaves and warming his skin.
“But you're-” Ryan paused, hesitating. “The tree and you, you're-” he tried and stopped again.
“I know, weird, right?” Brendon said. He patted his robes where the colour changed from black to brown and the cloth hardened, the folds of the robes shifting seamlessly into folds of the tree's bark.
“Mr Urie,” Professor Flitwick said, “I wonder if I could just, just ask you a few questions. To begin with, can you feel your right arm?”
“Yes, Professor,” Brendon said, waggling his fingers cheerfully.
“And your left arm?”
“Um,” Brendon said, because this was the part he was a little uncertain of. “I can feel my leaves.”
They all stared at him.
“My goodness,” Professor Flitwick said eventually, and there was something a little like awe in his voice. “An actual Splice. We studied the magic behind them in a Beauxbatons seminar once, but I must say I never expected to-”
“Filius,” Professor Sprout murmured.
“What? Oh, yes.” Professor Flitwick peered at Brendon. “No discomfort? No squeezing sensation?”
“Just fine, Professor,” Brendon said. “What's a Splice?”
“I believe you are familiar with the concept of Splinching?” Professor Flitwick said. Brendon winced. Matt had delighted in stories of his friends' failed Apparition exams with the glee of one who passed his on the first attempt, and several of them involved spectacular instances of Splinching. The others made similar expressions of discomfort-except for Jonathan, who looked uncomprehending, and Luna, who just looked interested. Professor Flitwick seemed to notice Jonathan's confusion, because he went on, “Splinching is when someone Apparates inefficiently, essentially splitting themselves into two pieces-usually the result of a lack in focus. One needs skilled operatives to undo a Splinching...”
Professor Sprout cleared her throat.
“A Splice represents a much rarer form of failed Apparition,” Professor Flitwick continued. “It happens when a Apparator, focused enough but with a faulty appreciation of their exact target, fuses with whatever object occupies the space they are Apparating to. Like I said, this is extremely uncommon.” He glanced quickly at Luna, who was frowning at him, and added, “Although in this case it is redundant to talk about it in terms of Apparition at all, since whatever Mr Urie managed is, of course, not a true Apparition.”
“Filius,” Professor Sprout said, “what can we do?”
Professor Flitwick shook his head thoughtfully, still staring at Brendon. Brendon waved at him.
“I'll need to contact someone from the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad,” Professor Flitwick said. “I would not dare undoing this on my own. Splices are largely uncatalogued, and we need someone with expertise.”
He and Professor Sprout looked at each other.
“Mr Diggory and Aurora are taking care of the last of the orienteering,” she said. “You go, I'll stay here.”
The last rays of sun disappeared over the horizon, and the world's golden colour started fading into grey.
“And you should probably hurry,” she added.
he novelty of the situation lasted for the first half hour or so. Brendon invited them up into his branches, something accepted enthusiastically by Luna, who immediately began studying the seam between Brendon's skin and the tree's bark, and more hesitantly by Ryan. He noticed, however, that both Spencer and Jon declined the invitation, and when he regarded Brendon more closely, he saw that Brendon was very carefully not looking at Spencer at all.
He sighed inwardly. He'd hoped this crisis would be enough for them to overcome their disagreement. Apparently being accidentally fused with a tree still wasn't serious enough to warrant that, however.
When the clock passed ten, Professor Sprout tried again to lift the idea of the rest of them going inside while she stayed with Brendon, but they all refused as politely as they could. The idea of leaving Brendon alone in the woods without hardly any company, just waiting for some blank-faced government wizards and witches to cut him out of the tree, did not appeal to any of them-even if the woods were growing colder by the minute.
The half hour since Professor Flitwick left them turned into a whole hour and then an hour and a quarter. Luna had been distracted from her inspection of Brendon's Splice and was now sitting on the ground next to Jon and Spencer and levitating pebbles, trying to form a constellation in the air which Ryan thought could be either Draco or Hydra-it was hard to tell with the way Jon kept plucking pebbles from the constellation when Luna wasn't looking. She was getting annoyed, Ryan could tell, but still amused enough by the added challenge that she hadn't jinxed him yet.
“So,” he said quietly, shifting his position on the branch he was perching on and turning to Brendon-or at least, the part of Brendon that still looked like Brendon. “Are you still mad at Spencer?”
Brendon didn't say anything, but he turned his face as far away as he could.
“I don't think he meant any harm,” Ryan said. Brendon snorted.
“No, he just got someone sacked. There's nothing wrong about that at all.”
“Professor Lupin is a werewolf,” Ryan said. “I don't think it was right of Spencer to do what he did, either, but I think he was just worried.”
“Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have let Professor Lupin teach here if it wasn't safe,” Brendon said stubbornly, echoing what he'd said many times already since the fight.
“It isn't always possible to be rational about things like this,” Ryan said. He patted the branch he was sitting on hesitantly. It still felt strange, thinking of the tree as Brendon. “I still think you should talk to him.”
“He won't admit he's wrong at all,” Brendon said. “He acts like he's only got to explain it to me and I'll understand, like I'm some kid and he's my parent explaining why I've done something bad. He won't listen.”
Ryan glanced at him. Brendon was looking angry in a way Ryan had very seldom seen him, jaw set and brow furrowed. The placating sentence he'd been trying out in his head froze in his throat, and he sighed and turned away, looking down towards the others instead.
Jon and Luna were now laughing together, throwing pebbles at each other, and Ryan saw that Spencer had got up and was standing close to Professor Sprout.
“What's taking so long?” he heard Spencer ask. “I thought the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad had a response time of six and a half minutes.”
“This is not a classic Splinching scenario,” Professor Sprout said. “I believe Mr Urie's Splice won't have shown up in their tracing system. So there's red tape to consider-since it's not an urgent situation exactly, they'll have to go through the bureaucracy of an official request for assistance.”
Ryan saw Spencer nod grudgingly and rolled his eyes. Probably only Spencer could have understood that.
He turned his gaze away and looked up through the leaves-through Brendon's leaves, he thought, smiling to himself-at the sky above. He could make out Delphinus and part of Cygnus in the patches of clear sky between the milky-white clouds. And then the clouds parted, and the moon shone out, white and brilliant like a giant Sickle.
“That's pretty,” he said. Brendon twisted his head, then made an annoyed sound.
“You'll have to describe it,” he said. “Apparently I can't-”
There was a scream from somewhere in the grounds, cut off suddenly, then a bang and then another. Ryan froze, straining to hear where the noises had come from. He could see Jon, Luna and Spencer all staring in the direction of the castle. Professor Sprout took a few steps forward, her wand in her hand.
“It came from over by the Whomping Willow,” Ryan said, pointing out the direction, and was about to continue when he was brought up short.
A howl had gone up, ululating on a rising note and finishing with a growling whine.
“Sweet Agrippa,” Professor Sprout whispered.
“What was that?” Spencer asked, his voice rising. “Who was that?”
“He should have taken his Potion,” Professor Sprout said, “but in that case he-”
Spencer leapt to his feet, backing towards Brendon's tree. “It is Professor Lupin,” he said, not even bothering to phrase it as a question. “It's the full moon tonight!”
Professor Sprout seemed to shake herself out of her own reverie. “How do you know about-” she began, but trailed off when she, too, heard the noise. There was a crashing coming from in front of them, as of a large animal trampling its way through the forest.
“Get behind me,” she managed, and then the wolf was there in front of them.
It had been in some kind of altercation-there were cuts on its muzzle and blood matting its fur on one flank. Its jaws dripped dark red in the moonlight. Spencer sucked in breath sharply, pressing his back against the trunk of the tree. Ryan fumbled for his wand, sudden panic making him clumsy.
“I need you to stay behind me and not make any sudden movements,” Professor Sprout said through gritted teeth. She was standing stock still, gripping her wand tightly. “It's possible that it will-”
The wolf leapt.
The ground erupted as a tree root-thick as Ryan's leg-rose and, trailing dirt as it whipped through the air, hit the wolf in the mouth. The animal howled as it was bowled over in the air, landing with a dull thump and considerable lack of elegance several yards away.
“Brendon?” Ryan said quietly. Brendon was breathing hard, staring at the wolf.
“I didn't think about it,” he said. “I just wanted to-”
“Everyone, get into the tree right now,” Professor Sprout said, her wand hand outstretched in front of her, her eyes not leaving the wolf, which was trying to get to its feet again. “Now, Mr Walker, Miss Lovegood. Hurry!”
Ryan reached down quickly, giving Spencer a hand up. On the other side of the tree, Jon was helping Luna hoist herself onto a branch.
There was a flash of light, and the wolf leapt back and rolled, whining, then advanced. Another flash of light had it retreating for a moment, but then it shook itself and opened its mouth in a threatening grimace, baring teeth already wet with blood.
“Why doesn't it give up?” Ryan whispered, as the wolf leapt forward again only to be knocked back for the second time by the unearthed tree root, still waving back and forth vaguely in front of Professor Sprout, creating a flimsy barrier between her and the animal. “It's hurt!”
“Its not a normal wolf,” Spencer said tightly. “It's a werewolf. It has to attack humans-it's built in-”
There was a bang, and the wolf screamed, rolling backwards and pawing at its muzzle. Professor Sprout looked around wildly, then raised her wand again.
“Accio!” she shouted, and Ryan saw her broomstick, several yards away, rise from the ground and fly towards her.
The wolf uncoiled and leapt in one, fluid moment. It bore the broomstick to the ground, and they all heard the sharp crack as the handle snapped.
“Oh, no,” Ryan heard Luna say softly, on the other side of Brendon's trunk. What he could see of Professor Sprout's face had gone very pale. The wolf snapped at the broomstick's bristles, whining with annoyance.
“It must smell human,” Spencer said. As Ryan looked at him, he took a new and firm grip on the branch he was using to hold himself upright, and took his wand out of his pocket.
“Stupefy!” he shouted.
The red light of the Stunner hit the wolf squarely in its flank, and it was lifted off its feet and thrown several yards backwards. It immediately started to scrabble to its feet again, albeit sluggishly, and Spencer looked at his wand as if it had malfunctioned.
“Stupefy doesn't work well on werewolves,” Ryan said distantly. His mind felt like a complete blank. He was trying to think of a spell or hex to cast, but the only one he could bring to mind however hard he tried was the Disarming Charm, something that definitely wouldn't work on the werewolf. They'd all learnt several protective spells last year-although Spencer was the only one who had properly managed the Stupefying Charm-but he didn't seem to remember any of them.
“Slows it down, though,” Spencer said grimly, and cast another Stunner at the wolf, this one making it roll over several times before crashing into the nearest tree.
There was a creaking noise, and several more of Brendon's tree roots ripped out of the ground.
“Professor!” Brendon shouted. “Professor, you have to climb up as well!”
Professor Sprout hesitated. The wolf was starting to get to its feet again. She seemed to make up her mind, and thrust her wand into the bun of her hair suddenly, then stretched both hands out it front of her. The ground exploded, showering the wolf with dirt and pebbles. It yelped, but crouched down low to avoid the worst of the blast.
That wasn't the main point of it, though. Pine trees were shooting out of the ground all around them, unfolding branch after branch like prickly brushes. Vines of poison ivy and gill-over-the-ground snaked through the air, latching onto Brendon's roots and binding them tight together with the trees. In a matter of seconds, they were surrounded by a thick barrier of vegetation. The wolf, leaping at it, was forced to retreat with its mouth full of pine needles and blue sparks dancing around its nose.
“Of course,” Ryan said quietly, recalling Professor Flitwick's lectures on the effects of combining physical protection with magical, rather than relying on a simple Shield Charm. “That's amazing.”
“It won't hold,” Brendon said.
“What?” Ryan turned towards him, frowning, and then saw what Brendon meant. Although still growing, the pine trees were gradually going brown, needles pattering down on the ground like rain. The gill-over-the-ground, which had burst into violent bloom as it grew, was shedding its flowers.
“It isn't stable,” Brendon said. “Something forced up that quickly can't stay. Professor!”
Professor Sprout didn't even turn her head. Ryan could see that her hands, still stretched out in front of her, were beginning to shake. “Do not get out of that tree, whatever you do,” she called. “With a little luck, it shouldn't be able to reach you. Do not leave the tree.”
The wolf was pacing back and forth outside the barrier, now and again lunging at a weak spot but always hurled back. Ryan looked around, desperate to find some way to help Professor Sprout. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked to his right to see Brendon's free hand clenching and unclenching slowly.
“What are-” he began, and then Brendon moved, stretching his arm out in front of him. Ryan followed the line it was pointing, and saw the forlorn pieces of Professor Sprout's broomstick shudder into motion and then shoot forward. One after the other, they whistled close over the wolf's head, making it howl and roll, then disappeared into the forest.
The wolf rose, bared its teeth in a fierce growl, and without even a glance at the rest of them, bounded after the broom.
The silence after it had disappeared almost seemed to echo.
“Merlin and all his magic,” Professor Sprout said, sagging to her knees.
“I didn't think it would work,” Brendon mumbled. “I thought it would keep attacking us. But I had to try something.”
There was the sound of people moving quickly through the forest, and Professor Flitwick hurried into the clearing, flanked by two witches and a wizard in Ministry robes. He stared in shock at the hedge of browning and disintegrating pine trees, and then up at Brendon and the others, all standing in various poses of profound relief in his branches.
“Pomona?” he squeaked.
“I'm here,” Professor Sprout called, waving a hand and making a couple of the branches hiding her from view bend apart. She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. “And may I suggest that whatever it is you're going to do, you do it very fast.”
reakfast the day after was subdued. Half an hour's work or so had freed Brendon from the tree, but he had been whisked away to the Hospital Wing for extensive tests and the rest of them had been bundled off to bed. Spencer hadn't seen Brendon again until this morning, when they'd met at the breakfast table. He'd been unsure of how to act-they hadn't managed to talk at all the night before, and he wasn't certain their fight was over yet. But when he'd stood by the breakfast table, wondering how to act, Brendon had simply eased aside on the bench, leaving a space for him. They had eaten in silence, and even though it was a tense one, it was still quite companionable.
Some sort of truce, perhaps, Spencer thought.
When breakfast was almost over, Professor Snape stopped by their table.
“Fifth-years,” he said, “your Defence Against the Dark Arts class is cancelled today.”
“Is Professor Lupin sick again, Professor?” Gendel asked loudly, making his class mates laugh. “If I didn't know better, Professor, I'd say someone was taking any excuse not to teach us.”
“Now, Mr Gendel,” Professor Snape said, and Spencer realised with a sinking feeling what was about to happen when he saw the small smile growing on his face, “you really must try to be more understanding. It was the full moon last night, after all, and I understand the transformation takes a lot out of you.”
All conversation along the table stopped. Pansy Parkinson stood for the first scream.
“He's a werewolf?”
As if she had broken a dam, her shout was the signal for everyone to start talking at once.
“I can't believe he-”
“He always seemed so nice and-”
“I'm writing to my parents-”
“I let him touch me!”
The screams and shouts were spreading to the other tables now, with the Hufflepuffs leaning over to ask the Ravenclaws what all the fuss was about and the Gryffindors starting to stand up on the other side of the Great Hall, throwing puzzled looks in their direction. Spencer kept watching Professor Snape, whose smile had blossomed into a full smirk of satisfaction. Then he felt movement beside him, and he turned to see Brendon rising abruptly from the table and hurry out of the Great Hall.
Spencer hesitated, then stood up as well. “I'm telling my father about this,” he muttered for the benefit of anyone who might be paying attention to him and followed Brendon.
He caught up with Brendon just outside the castle's main doors. Brendon was striding angrily in the direction of the green houses, his arms stiff and his walk jerky.
“How could Professor Snape do that?” he snapped, as Spencer ran up to him. “In front of the whole school? Professor Lupin will never be able to find another job now.”
Spencer tried to shrug and jog along beside Brendon at the same time.
“It's just really mean,” Brendon continued. “I don't understand why he would do that.”
Spencer kept a careful silence at that. He wasn't sure if it had escaped Brendon or not that Professor Snape loathed Professor Lupin, but he felt that in either case it wouldn't help to mention this now.
Brendon stopped suddenly. He sighed noisily, then flung himself down against the castle wall, glaring towards the green houses and, beyond them, the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
“It isn't fair,” he said. “Professor Lupin is really nice.”
Spencer nodded silently, then slid down slowly to lean against the castle wall, too. He wanted to reach out and touch Brendon's shoulder, but thought by the way that Brendon was hunched into himself that it might be a bad idea right now. “I am sorry about Professor Lupin,” he said. “I know you liked him. I mean, I did too. And I didn't want it to go like this. I didn't want it shouted out that he's a werewolf.”
Brendon didn't say anything, just kept watching his feet.
“You could have said told you so,” he said eventually.
Spencer shrugged, not looking at him. “You were right,” he said. “I overheard Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick talking while the Ministry people were getting you out of the tree. Professor Lupin was supposed to take some potion that would keep him safe. So he wouldn't actually be dangerous to us.”
Brendon shook his head. “He was, though,” he said quietly. “So you were right, too.”
“Still,” Spencer said, “I get it.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I wrote to my father. And-it wasn't about whether it was right or not for a werewolf to be teaching us, or about the letter of the law or anything like that. It was about me being scared.”
Brendon didn't say anything for a while. “Is it that easy, then?” he asked eventually. “For you. If you're scared of someone, you just write to your father?”
Spencer frowned, confused. “Of course I do. He's my father.”
“No, I mean-” Brendon shrugged irritably. “I mean, you can just make them disappear?”
“It isn't like that,” Spencer said immediately, then hesitated. He didn't know how to make Brendon understand that it would never work like that, as though Spencer only had to snap his fingers and his father would make sure the world fell into place around him. He was the eldest son of the Smith family, not a spoiled child asking for favours.
It was hard to explain, too, that his father would never have someone sacked. For that matter, it would be unnecessary. Spencer's father's work in the Ministry and the Wizengamot was all about knowing when to push and when to just lay a finger gently on an already tipping scale. Making a fuss and forcing someone out was crude and pointless, when a few well-placed arguments would do the same job more cleanly.
“I just wanted him to know about it,” he said, which wasn't entirely true but about as close as he thought he could get without entangling himself in explanations. Even if he knew his father's pull, he knew better than to count on his father using it for him. “I never asked him to fix anything. I just wanted him to know. And-I mean-of course he would do what he thought was best for me, but I never asked him for anything like that.”
He glanced at Brendon, but Brendon was if anything looking even unhappier. There was another long pause.
“I really hurt you with that Shield Charm last year,” Brendon said suddenly.
Spencer blinked and was about to ask what that had to do with anything, then caught up and realised Brendon's full meaning. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. He had no idea of what to say.
“I could never just make someone disappear,” he said at last. “And I wouldn't, either, even if I could.” He paused, then said more deliberately, “I'm not scared of you.”
There was so much more he wanted to say, but he didn't know how to say any of it. So instead he just sat, hoping some of it would come through anyway, and when Brendon shook the tension out of his shoulders and gave him a cautious smile, he smiled back.
ovegood gave her Pouncing Primulas arrangement a critical once-over, then turned to Spencer.
“Have you made up, then?” she asked.
Spencer blinked at her. “Who?”
“You and Brendon,” she said, “of course.” She glanced at her arrangement again and caught a Primula that was trying to lever itself out of the pot just in time, grasping the offending roots and pushing them firmly back into the soil. “Did you work things out?”
Spencer looked up from his flowers and towards the front of the class room, where Brendon and Jon were currently in line to present their own arrangements for Professor Sprout.
“I think so,” he said. “Maybe. I'm not sure. It isn't as simple as I thought it was.”
“I thought it might be something like that,” Lovegood said. She stood back and turned her pot a few times, inspecting it from every angle. “I think it's good for Brendon to know that you are Spencer, not just Spencer Smith,” she said.
Spencer frowned, confused. “But I am Spencer Smith,” he said.
Lovegood laughed. “You are very silly sometimes, Spencer Smith,” she said. He rolled his eyes.
“And you are very strange sometimes, Lovegood,” he said, then blushed. He hadn't exactly meant to say that out loud.
Lovegood only smiled at him, however.
“You ought to call me Luna,” she said. “I don't know why you don't.”
Spencer didn't have time to come up with an answer to that, because at that moment Jon and Brendon arrived back.
“Hey,” Jon said, “we've been talking. So last year we had a Basilisk in the school, and this year there was a werewolf. What do you think we'll get next year? I'm going to go with dragons.”
“Oh, I hope a Snorkack,” Lovegood said.
“A banshee,” Brendon said, grinning. “It could be hiding in one of the seventh floor class rooms and we'd only hear it scream now and again.” He turned to Spencer. “What do you think? What kind of monster are we going to have at the school next year?”
Spencer shrugged. “I don't have to guess,” he said. “I already know.” And then, when they were all watching him in surprise, he sighed and continued, “My sisters are starting at Hogwarts this autumn.”
he sun was extremely hot, and Brendon fanned his face with his hand. He and Ryan were sitting by the lake, enjoying a respite from lessons. Two days from now, the Hogwarts Express would be coming to take them back home, and everyone was making as much use as they could from the final days with their school mates.
Ryan had been trying to plait a few strands of grass together, but now he gave up and tossed them away.
“Did you know that Sirius Black was caught?” he said.
Brendon blinked, shook his head. “What?”
“Carmichael told me. He was caught that same night as you-you know.” Ryan looked embarrassed for a moment, then grinned. “But then they lost him.”
Brendon stared at him. “You're kidding.”
“Don't know if it's true, of course. Carmichael says all sorts of things.”
Brendon thought about this. “So they're still going to have the protection on Hogwarts next year? I mean, he's still going after Hogwarts, right? Even if he was caught once?”
“I guess.” Ryan shrugged. “They're going to remove the Dementors from the school, though.”
Brendon breathed in and out slowly. “Really?” he said, trying to keep his voice even.
Ryan nodded. “I heard Professor Vector and Professor Flitwick talking about it,” he said. “Apparently they-the Dementors-they attacked someone.”
“I'm glad,” Brendon said, with feeling. “That they're leaving, I mean.” It wasn't quite as bad, being forced to see those memories when he knew they were going to appear, but he was relieved he'd never have them dragged out of him again.
Ryan fidgeted, then sighed. “I think I heard my dad,” he said quietly. “Fighting with my mum. That's what I heard when the Dementors came close, someone fighting with my mum. I think he was Muggle.”
Brendon looked at him. Ryan was staring into the distance.
“I think my mum didn't tell him she was magic,” Ryan went on. “And I think he found out when I started showing my magic. He left after that.”
“That wasn't your fault,” Brendon said, aware of how pathetically inadequate that sounded.
“I know that,” Ryan said. “But I wonder why she didn't tell him.”
“I don't know,” Brendon said. “Maybe you should ask her.”
Ryan shrugged dismissively. “It isn't very important,” he said. He looked back at Brendon. “How's your arm now?”
It was a flimsy excuse for changing the subject, but Brendon accepted it. After all, he didn't like talking about what the Dementors made him see, either. “Fine,” he said, waving his left arm. “Not like a branch at all.”
Ryan grinned at him. “So that's good.”
“Yeah.”
They sat in silence, baking in the quiet warmth. Nothing had much energy today, it seemed-not even the insects were buzzing very loudly.
Ryan brushed a hand across his forehead, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Wow, it's so hot,” he said.
Brendon smiled.
A light breeze sprang up, tousling their hair and cooling their faces. Ryan blinked, looking at Brendon suspiciously.
“Did you do that?”
Brendon laughed and leaned back on his hands, letting the wind wash over him.
“Maybe,” he said.
THE END