Snape's Detention Duel - Round Three - Mission and Subs Options

[zymurgy]

Round Three Mission:



Memo from the Desk of Severus Snape ~






Harry's time:

-> What caused the crash in the Entrance Hall?

-> Is Potter punished for taking the card?

-> What happened to Malfoy?


Marauders' time:

-> Was Sirius punished for mudslinging or any of the others for slinging hexes?

-> What was in the bottle filled with the queer orange substance that Bellatrix took and why did she take it?

-> Why doesn't Lupin want the other Marauders to visit?



Include the following items:

A bottle filled with strange and putrid smoke
Peeves or a suit of armour
a fake step or passageway


And at least three of the following words:

sartorial
mirabile dictu
epuration
timorous
dudgeon
depone
zenith
derring-do
ted
warren
inculpate




Extra Points for tying in previous items and ideas from the Story So Far, and twelve points for including a cow.




As before

Your submission must be a minimum of 1,000 words, but no more than 1,500 words.


Keep in mind that Mr. Filch has banned the use of chatspeak, foul language and adult themes.

"Ferret Points can and will be added - at the discretion of the Department of Mysteries - for humor and clever situations."




Round Three Opens at 11pm Eastern Time, Friday September 2nd
Round Two Submissions close at 10:55pm on Wednesday September 7th
Round Three Voting will open as submissions are posted in voting booths by Admins and close on Thursday September 8th at 11pm Eastern Time.

Voting for overall favourite sub opens on Wednesday night, too! It can be any of the subs in any Round. Pick your favourite! Let the author know you appreciate their talents.

Vote early! Vote often!

[McGonagall's Cat]

Our Story So Far ~


Chapter One

Visiting the Sick by evlpez


Harry arrived at Professor Snape's office at precisely eight o'clock. Rather than glum at the prospect of another detention with Snape, he was looking forward to reading more accounts, however vague, of his parents' time at Hogwarts. There was a pang of regret that the only things he was now learning about his father were through glances into the past at those events which cast him in the least favorable light. Beggars couldn't be choosers however. Having accepted the fact that no one is perfect, he was happy just to know the smallest things about his imperfect father and his friends. Most of the detention cards he'd read so far were not in the least as serious or disturbing to Harry as his trip into the pensieve the night he saw Snape's worst memory of the Marauders.

Snape opened the door and allowed Harry to pass inside to the desk, atop which sat the box of old file cards waiting to be copied. Harry smiled secretly at the sneer behind him. He wasn't going to pretend for Snape's sake that he felt abused and angry about having to do this. Harry suspected that the time spent here was not convenient for Snape. He probably had other things to do, like spying on Death Eaters or reporting to his boss, whomever that might really be. If he was put out more so by Harry's inability to be cowed by what should rightly be a horrible detention, all the better.

Harry sat down and began shuffling through, looking for a familiar name and looking forward to imagining how it came to be. He spotted a Potter and paused, smiling. He looked up at Snape and caught him watching. The professor gave him a brumal glare and bent to his papers, marking one with such force that he knocked his coffee mug off the desk, sending it skittering across the stone floor. Harry resisted the urge to laugh out loud.


"Thank goodness for Infrangible charms, huh Profe-?"

"Silence, Potter. I think you're old enough to be able to perform your task for one evening without the incessant, infantile babbling."

Harry smirked.


October, 1974

Potter, James
Pettigrew, Peter
Black, Sirius
Black, Regulus
Black, Bellatrix

He frowned. What were his dad and Sirius doing getting into trouble beside two future Death Eaters? Surely they… He read on.

Offense: Willful meddling with an Anodyne Solution, risking harm to students in the Hospital Wing, disruption of Hospital Wing, destruction of a priceless antique vase

Punishment: Service to staff in the Hospital Wing thrice weekly for three weeks, without magic.

As he read the anecdotal notes on the back of the card he imagined them played out in his mind.


"At least my friends are warm-blooded, Bella," Sirius retorted over his shoulder at his cousin. To James he muttered, "Just ignore her. She's only repeating what the rest of the family tells her. Poor stupid thing can't think for herself, you know."

James shrugged and smiled. "If Regulus didn’t look so much like you, I'd think you were adopted, Sirius."

Sirius nodded in agreement as Peter struggled to keep up with them.

"But guys, why is Remus in the Hospital Wing? I mean, is he sick? Is that why he didn't come to bed last night? Where did he go?"

James and Sirius exchanged a look. They had their suspicions about Remus' health problems, but weren't ready to share them just yet, even with Peter, until they'd confronted Remus. They wouldn't do it today of course. You can't kick your mate when he's down.

"Hey guys. What're you doing here?" Remus asked when they marched to his bedside behind the Nurse's back.

"Shh.. we're probably not supposed to be here. You all right, Remus?" James asked in a whisper.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Remus said, looking out the window.

"What happened to you last night?" Peter asked quietly.

Remus shrugged. "Must've ate something at dinner that didn't agree."

"Something that fought back on the way down?" Sirius asked, eyeing the not-quite-healed gash along Remus' jaw.

"Oh, that. I fell on the way here. Scraped my chin on the doorway," Remus replied calmly. "Might even still be blood on the jamb. Lucky I didn't send that big pot flying," he added, nodding his head towards the large floor vase beside the door.

"Madam, I saw my cousin come in here," came a familiar voice from behind the curtain. "He isn't bothering your patients is he? He can be such trouble some times."

The four boys froze. Sirius and James peered out discreetly to see the backs of Bellatrix and Regulus. He was hidden from the matron by the curtain, and they were standing next to a cart containing trays of various vials and decanters.

"No, Miss Black. I'm sure I haven't seen him. If you're not here for treatment I must ask that you both leave and go back to your common room. Don't touch those, please. They're for my patients."

"Oh, sorr-" Regulus was interrupted by the crash of the glass vial he'd dropped on the floor.

"See what you've done, Regulus? Go! I'm so sorry, Madam. Let me help."

As the Matron bent down to clean up the mess, Bellatrix opened a vial and added a pinch of something to it from her pocket. Regulus smirked at her and saw Sirius out of the corner of his eye. His face dropped a moment, and Sirius knew that he was considering whether to betray him to Bella. He didn't, but turned his back and walked towards the door and waited for her. Bella, satisfied that her help wasn't wanted, followed.

Sirius pulled his wand out and as Bellatrix neared the door, he flicked and muttered. The enormous vase swept itself into the air and hurled itself at Bellatrix, bowling her over and crashing on the stone into dust.

The Matron gasped, grabbing the curtain behind her in surprise and revealing James, Peter and Sirius.

"You aren't… d..d..did you to that?!" She demanded, her face going red. She rushed over to Bellatrix, who was crying out on the floor in pain.

"Poor dear. No.. nothing broken, you're okay. Just let me get you something," the matron cooed, summoning the same vial from the cart which Bellatrix had tainted.

"Drink this down, dear. It's only mild."

Bellatrix's eyes nearly popped out of her head and she shouted through her tears. "NO! I mean, I’m FINE Madam. Really!"

But the Matron had too keen an eye to give Sirius the satisfaction that he was waiting for. She peered at the vial and shook it, then narrowed her eyes at Bellatrix and Regulus. Then she turned to the boys and stood up.

"Out. All of you. NOW. You'll hear about this later."

Harry couldn't allow himself to imagine that Bellatrix would have been made to drink the solution. Despite how much he hated her, and how much Sirius hated her, he couldn't. Part of him hoped she had, but there was nothing on the detention card to suggest that she'd gotten anything but a minor injury from the incident. None of the staff knew for certain who had done what to cause the commotion, or taint the Anodyne Solution, so they'd agreed to give all five of them the same detention. Harry liked to think that James and Sirius had gone easy on Bellatrix and Regulus because Regulus had decided not to rat Sirius out when he saw them, but really, none of that was on the card, either. He finished copying the card and stuffed the original nonchalantly into his robes.

"Souvenir, Potter?" Snape sneered, standing up from his desk.




~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~




Chapter Two


The Oddball’s Eye by cherabela

Harry froze with his hand in his pocket as Snape’s eyes searched his.

“Might I remind you Potter that it is very easy for me to double your detention to twice a week. I must say the days have been growing warmer, and I’m sure you-”

His words of malice were stopped short just as a yell was heard from outside the office door.

Malfoy trudged into the room, holding his right arm so tightly that it was a wonder how any blood was coursing through it at all. He banged into Snape’s desk, sending a bottle of magical ink flying over a pile of essays. Harry’s look of shock couldn’t have matched the look of revulsion on Snape’s face as he said, “Potter! Out! Now!”

Without being told further, Harry scurried out of the office, his mind set that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater, no matter what Ron or Hermione said. Harry took out the detention card as he walked past a painting in which Uric the Oddball was at an empty table strewn with playing cards; he was twirling a green olive in his drink.

“What does it matter if you weren’t playing nice? I say. Don’t worry Mr. Tentacles, it’s all right,” he cooed, patting the jellyfish gently on the top part. “I know you didn’t cheat. Those plangent sharks think that appearance is all that matters. I mean- come here boy!”

Harry turned round wondering to whom he was shouting at. There was nobody else in sight.

“You’re the Potter boy aren’t you? Fame still doesn’t stop you from getting into trouble now. Just like your father I must say.”

“You knew my father?” Harry asked, wondering how on earth James could have been on speaking terms with this portrait inhabitant.

“Of course I did! And he landed himself in many detentions with his friends I tell you too. Such a good boy. He did offer to give Mr. Tentacles a proper home once, did you know that?”

“No,” Harry said quickly, feeling that Uric had worn that jellyfish for far too long on his head. “You wouldn’t, happen to know about a detention my father had with his friends one night would you? A detention with two other Slytherin students. They were in the Hospital Wing,” he said, as he looked hopefully up to the portrait. It was a long shot, but he was willing to try anything. The card, although a valuable source of information, wasn’t enough to quench his curiosity entirely.

“But of course. October, 1974. James, Peter, Sirius, Regulus and Bellatrix. Quite a merry bunch,” Uric said, as if it had only happened yesterday.

“It’s written on your card boy,” he said, as he spotted the clear look of astonishment on Harry’s face. Harry couldn’t help not think that perhaps, Uric the Oddball was not quite the bibulous fellow he was thought to be.

And as Uric started telling his story, having attracted Harry’s attention like a mountebank with his jellyfish’s tentacles, rather than medicines, Harry could see it all playing in front of his eyes again, as if Hermione still possessed a time turner and they had gone far back into time.


“Don’t you dare place your filthy feet on that spot!” raged Bellatrix as Sirius walked past the area she had just been scrubbing clean. She looked very different from her usual proud figure casting her hatred on all muggleborns. At that moment, all she seemed she had the power over was an army of scrub brushes.

“Calm down Bella or your head might explode. Do you wish to know what happened to Snivellus the last time he decided we were too good to live?” Sirius grinned. Peter sniggered behind his back as he polished the surface of a bedside table.

Bellatrix was about to throw a tirade of foul language in his face when Regulus suddenly gave a loud panicked shriek as the glass cabinet with medicine bottles and ointments he had been cleaning came crashing down upon him.

Thankfully, Moony was quick in his wandwork and shouted “Impedimenta!” The glass cabinet stopped in midair, mere inches from Regulus’s cowering figure.

“You’re too soft on the heart Remus!” stated James, clearly deeply annoyed that the cabinet hadn’t squashed Sirius’s brother flat.

“I’m trying to avoid getting you three into further detention,” said Remus, wincing as he slid back down onto his bed.

Bellatrix shot a quick look at the door to Madam Pomfrey’s office. She had cast the Muffliato spell, one she had seen Snape use numerous times. She just hoped that it would keep on working. As the minutes passed, the matron didn’t come out and it was a clear sign that the incident hadn’t been heard.

While Sirius was whispering something to Lupin, and James was busy setting the cabinet on its feet again and mending any broken things, she quickly took the opportunity of snatching a bottle filled with a queer orange substance and placing it carefully in her pocket.

But as she was about to continue her innocent scrubbing she found she couldn’t even move her toes.

“Right good spell Lupin here taught us isn’t it?” Sirius sneered as he planted himself in front of Bellatrix. “Nice work Peter.”

If she had had possession of her muscles at that moment she’d have liked to teach that Pettigrew boy that it was a terrible mistake to play tricks on Bellatrix Black. For that moment though, she had to remain quiet and let the time pass slowly as her body slowly regained movement.

“I do hope you remember how Madam Pomfrey had insisted that none of us are to touch any of her precious potion bottles. I think you have just crossed the line Bella. A couple of more weeks worth of detention would probably make you realise that you just shouldn’t touch other people’s medicine.”

“Sirius,” came a croaky whisper from one of the beds. He ran to Remus’s side as the latter continued, “Can you open the window for me please?”

As Sirius was about to do this, Bellatrix started resuming the control of her body again; at least she could move her mouth and she wanted to make that a point.
“You will definitely not open that window!” she raged, the words spewing out of her mouth redolent with pure loathing.

The sky outside was the colour of Snape’s greasy scalp, and rain was pelting down in a slow and dreamy manner, as if a little rain was the kind of thing the students would enjoy all day long.

“I will not have spent the past hours cleaning this damn place for you to mess it all up just to please your stupid friends,” continued Bellatrix whose body was shaking with fury now.

While Bellatrix was busy retorting about how she wouldn’t be spending another minute in the company of blood traitors, James summoned a pile of mud from outside and sent it swerving at her. It hit her directly in the face, and by the time she removed the brown mask James had planted, her face was redder than Peeves’s favourite pair of pants.

“Why you-”

“Ms. Black!” came Madam Pomfrey’s cry as she rushed out of her office just in time to see Bellatrix pointing her wand at James. “I do not wish to see further harm inflicted upon any other Hogwarts students, especially for some petty reasons. Move along you lot.”

With that she ushered them all out of the room. Before they were forced out by the insistent matron, James, Sirius and Peter ran to Remus’s side and promised that they would visit him again that evening.

To their surprise though, Lupin disagreed with their suggestion.

“I really appreciate your company, but I’m tired. I think I’ll get some sleep now. Madam Pomfrey has been insisting I do so for days now,” said Lupin, who was trying to sit up but couldn’t because of the pain.

“We’ll only be a minute!” Sirius protested.

“No,” Lupin said yet again. “I’m sure I’ll be much better tomorrow.”

Just then, Madam Pomfrey came along to usher them out threatening to call the Headmaster if they didn’t let her patients get the rest they required. As they made their way out they passed Regulus, who glanced nervously at his pocketwatch before starting a seemingly interesting whispered discussion with Bellatrix. They shot the three friends final furtive looks and left the hospital wing.


Uric the Oddball stopped, and drank the last remaining contents of his glass before sucking at the olive. Harry on the other hand wasn’t quite as relaxed.

“And then what happened?” he asked, his heart beating faster than was normal. “Did my dad and his friends go to the hospital wing that evening?”
He waited before speaking out loud the question that was gnawing at his insides.
“Did Bellatrix and Regulus go too?”

Before Uric could answer him, a loud crash came from the entrance hall.

[chad13]

Orange Fuzz

Although Harry wanted very much for Uric to continue, his own, “love of playing the hero,” was to great, and with no more than a quick wave to the portrait Harry began sprinting towards the entrance hall. A large crowd had already gathered as Harry skidded to a halt. “Why hello Harry.” Spinning around a bit to quickly Harry found himself face to face with Professor Dumbledore.

“Professor, what, what was that noise?” Harry asked quite out of breath. Dumbledore grinned and pointed over the crowd. “Courtesy of your father too, if I remember correctly.” Harry stared. “I do believe it was left here in retaliation for a detention he and his friends were forced to serve with a few Slytherins.” Harry quickly turned back towards the Professor.

“And ... and what happened after that detention? If you don’t mind my asking.” Dumbledore smiled.

“Oh I don’t mind at all Harry.”

And Dumbledore began his story, Harry imagining it all as he went:

James, Sirius, and Peter trudged back towards their dormitory slightly abashed at Moony’s requesting them to leave.

“Maybe he really is very sick.” Peter began.

“Yeah, sick enough to send us away? Not likely Wormtail.” Sirius replied dragging his feet along the carpet.

“Crying over your sick mate are you cousin?” Sirius, James, and Peter all turned right around to see Bellatrix and Regulus following them.

“At least we have a mate to cry over.” James called back.

Bellatrix did not respond but began to smirk, both hands placed in the pockets of her robes. James and Sirius exchanged glances. “Got two wands stashed in their Bella?” Sirius asked.

“Or perhaps it’s a certain potion you forgot to return during detention.” James and Sirius drew their wands simultaneously, Peter awkwardly following suit.

“Don’t try anything.” Bellatrix replied darkly, “I am not in the mood.” Regulus drew his own wand behind Bella.

“That’s to bad,” Sirius sighed, “It would have made this whole thing so much more enjoyable.” With a few shouts of spells and jets of light, and the drop of one bottle of putrid smoke; the corridor finally fell silent.

“James!” Sirius called coughing.

“All here!” he called back jokingly. As the smoke cleared the two boys found Peter, stunned, but concuss, his nose streaming blood. Staring at it dripping on to his robes the boy yelped. “Don’t be a baby Wormtail, you’re fine.”

“But you won’t be!”

“Shut up!” Sirius cried flicking his wand at Bellatrix before she could utter another word.

“You know, if you’re going to hex somebody, hex them. Don’t stand their talking about it!” James smirked at himself proudly while Bella screamed as she hovered upside down beside them.

Suddenly, James, with the eye only a seeker could posses, jumped for a small bottle of orange liquid that dropped from Bella’s now out turned pockets.

“Beautiful catch Prongs! Most impressive!” Sirius cried over Peter’s claps, as James summer salted out from under Bella.

“Regulus, Regulus!” Bella screeched. But Regulus was nowhere in site.

“Timorous coward,” Sirius muttered standing up.

“What is it James?” Peter asked, again wiping blood from his face. James stared down at the bottle he’d caught.

“Dye,” he said perplexed.

“Dye? What’d you want Orange Dye for?” Sirius asked staring up at his cousins now blood filled face.

“Let me down!” she cried without answering.

“No, I think we’ll just return it while you take some time to think over your actions. Don’t go anywhere now, you’ve been very bad, and we’re going to have to talk about this.” Sirius laughed deeply as James and Peter followed him back down the hall towards the hospital wing; Bella working herself into quite a dudgeon and yelling at them until they turned down a hidden passageway to muffle her voice.

“Moony my friend, you’ll just never be rid of us!” Sirius cried pushing the hospital wing doors open. But a quick look around proved that Moony was no longer there. “And you said he was really sick,” Sirius said looking at Wormtail. “He’s probably back up in the dormitory waiting for us by now.”

“What! Why, I thought I told you boys to leave!” The three Marauders turned around, a bit shocked to see the Matron coming in behind them instead of from your office.

“Where’s Remus?” Peter asked, again wiping his nose.

“Oh dear boy, do come here.” The Matron exclaimed looking at Peter’s nose.

“Did he go back to the dormitory?” James asked as she patched Peter up.

“No he did not, now is their anything other than the whereabouts of your friend I can help you with?”

“Well , we just wanted to return this bottle of stolen orange dye we confiscated from one, Bellatrix Black.” The Matron eyed the bottle and the boys, apparently wondering exactly what means they had used to obtain the substance.

“Well I appreciate your concern and your returning this, but you boys must get back to your dormitory’s immediately, it is much to late for you to be wandering the halls.” Although quite unsatisfied with the Matron’s lack of information concerning Lupin the boys headed back down the hall towards Bellatrix. Grinning, they found her still stuck upside down.

“You let me down this instant!” She cried.

“Not yet,” Sirius replied picking her wand up off the floor. “First tell us what you wanted that dye for.”

“You best do it quickly before all your blood rushes to your head and it explodes.” James laughed.

“Never!”

“Always so stubborn Bella, well perhaps your accomplice will tell us.” With a flick of his wand the portrait of the cow behind Sirius fell to the ground revealing his brother cowering behind it.

“Regulus,” James began, “So nice of you to drop by. Perhaps you’d like to tell us what the orange dye was for, and depone against your criminally inclined cousin.” Regulus eyed the four wands, (Sirius was also holding Bella’s), now aimed at his face.

“Come on,” Sirius urged, “We’re brothers.” Regulus’ expression did not change, his eyes kept darting from wand to wand.

“Drink it.”

“What was that?” Sirius asked.

“He was supposed to drink it.”

“Shut up!” Bella yelled. James however edged closer to Regulus’ face.

“We could prove it if he drank it, he’d be orange all the time.”

“Who’d drink it? Were you trying to poison Moony?” Sirius turned back to his cousin and jammed his wand at her throat. “Tell me!”

“We weren’t going to poison him, oh no, much worse.”

James who’d taken a hold of Regulus’ robes turned around. “Worse? What’d you mean worse?!”

“Sirius!” Peter came running up to him. “We have to go!” Peter held out a very old looking page of parchment.

“Matron’s coming.” he said over his shoulder to James. “Petrificus Totalus!” he yelled quickly over his shoulder. And leaving Bella in mid air and Regulus on the ground the trio sped off.


“I don’t understand Professor.” Harry began, “Orange dye? What were they going to do to Lupin?”

“Harry, you must understand, that was the night your father and Sirius discovered the nature of Professor Lupin’s condition. It also happens that a few Slytherin students, although not Bellatrix directly, were very interested in why Remus was sick so often, and had a number of guesses as to what his condition might have been.” Harry continued to stare at Dumbledore quite confused. “Harry if Lupin drank that dye he would have turned a slight shade of orange, but not only as a boy, but as a werewolf as well. If anyone saw an orange wolf, well, news would travel quickly; and I can assure you along with Remus, your father and Sirius, would have been quite upset had the entire school gotten wind of the situation, and the proof.”

“But sir, what does the story have to do with that?” Harry pointed at the fuzzy orange suit of armor with a Slytherin emblem on its chest floating around the entrance hall.

“Harry, that is the retaliation your father and his friends left Slytherin house. Just as the Slytherins tried to attack their friend with orange dye, they left this suit of armor to attack Slytherin house.”

Harry watched as the suit continued to throw balloons full of a fowl orange liquid at any remaining students with silver and green on their robes.

“Harmless, but a nuisance none the less. I best get rid of it soon though I suppose, Mr. Malfoy has already had quite an allergic reaction to the substance, I would hate for it to happen to anyone else,” Dumbledore smiled. “It shows up every once in awhile, no matter where I send it, it always seems to find it’s way back.”

Harry doubted Dumbledore ever sent the suit that far away, but he did not say so.

[timeturner]

Madam Pomfrey's Secret

More crashing noises issued from the entrance hall and Harry thought he heard someone scream.

“My goodness, Mr. Tentacles! Did you hear that?” Uric the Oddball cried, spinning in his portrait in an attempt to look outside his frame. “The last time I heard that much noise, it was back in 1980. A first year student accidentally conjured a cow out of thin air and dropped it right in the entrance hall. Oh, it was most unfortunate timing. Argus Filch was making his rounds at the time, see, and the great mooing beast landed straight on him. Nearly flattened him like a pancake. To this day, I’m certain that student didn’t mean to depone a farm animal upon Filch, but ol’ Argus was furious about it anyway. Yelled so loud, I think he scared the milk right out of that cow. Turned into an awful mess, it did. Cats everywhere…”

Uric continued to ramble on and began discussing an experiment he had once tried that involved a steaming cow patty and an angry mountain cat, but Harry wasn’t listening. The scream that they had just heard sounded an awful lot like Ginny.

Running as fast as he could, Harry sprinted down the corridor. Feet skidding on the stone, he rounded the last corner before the entrance hall and stopped short in the doorway.

Crabbe was hanging from one of the elaborate chandeliers that adorned the ceiling. He was easily twenty feet in the air and was periodically emitting a very high-pitched effeminate scream. Snape and Draco stood below him and seemed to be doing their best to get him down. Their efforts, however, seemed in vain. Crabbe was clutching the chandelier with all his might and seemed to have no desire to return to the ground anytime soon.

Meanwhile, a battered suit of armor was chasing Goyle through the entrance hall. Goyle, who was clearly terrified and appeared to be running as if his very life depended upon it, seemed to have lost his britches somewhere. This was of course, most unfortunate for the gorilla-like boy who had bullied students since his arrival, but on the other hand it was most entertaining for Goyle’s former victims, many of whom stood watching safely on the sidelines. The suit of armor was cackling wildly as it ran and was being cheered on loudly by Ginny, who stood alone at the foot of the stairs watching with glee.

Harry turned back to the suit of armor and wondered who had bewitched it to behave in such a way. Ginny was very clever, but this definitely wasn’t her usual in-your-face style.

Harry edged over to the bottom of the stairs and whispered to her, “Is this your doing?”

“Not exactly,” Ginny laughed. “We’ve mostly got Peeves to thank for this good bit of fun.”

Bewildered, Harry took a closer look at the suit of armor and realized that Peeves was controlling it from the inside. Having been a victim of Peeves enough times to know how it feels, Harry almost felt bad for Crabbe and Goyle. Knowing the two Slytherins like he did though, Harry figured they probably deserved whatever Peeves could dish out.

“Did they do something, or were they just on the wrong place at the wrong time,” Harry asked.

Ginny’s face darkened and her eyes narrowed. “They did something alright…or tried to anyway. I was walking down the stairs and they thought it would be funny to get back at me for what I did at dinner.” Seeing Harry’s questioning look, Ginny explained “I made a fool of Draco earlier in the Great Hall. He was showing off for Parkinson and lobbed a spoonful of mashed potatoes into my hair. So, I reciprocated by chucking a turkey at him. I threw it kind of hard though and it bowled him right out of his seat. Then everyone laughed at him and…well, you get the picture.”

“I saw him clutching his arm earlier when he came to fetch Snape. You must have gotten him pretty good,” Harry said, unable to keep the admiration from creeping into his voice.

“Nah, Malfoy’s got Crabbe to thank for that injury. When Peeves started attacking, Crabbe whipped out his wand and tried to use a severing charm to get Peeves out of the armor. He missed and got Malfoy’s arm instead. Cut it clean off. Malfoy ran out of here hanging on to it tight as he could. Then, he came back with Snape. Snape must have fixed the arm. Pity,” Ginny sighed.

Harry thought back to the moment Malfoy had bolted into Snape’s office clutching his arm. No wonder he had been holding it so tight.

“What did they try doing to you that put Peeves in high dudgeon?” Harry asked, though just the thought of someone hurting Ginny was making that ever-familiar chest monster feel in high dudgeon too.

“They tried drowning me in Fred and George’s swamp. They claim they were only trying to help me clean the mashed potatoes out of my hair, but considering Crabbe and Goyle don’t even give themselves baths, I find it odd that they were worried about my hygiene,” Ginny said dryly. “Anyway, I think Peeves thought they were going to do away with the swamp and he took offense. Ever since Umbridge, he’s had something of a fondness for Fred and George. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he actually looks up to them.”

Harry laughed appreciatively. Fred and George would be pleased that their legacy was lending some protection to their little sister. He would have to remember to send them an owl later.

Surveying the scene, he saw that Malfoy and Snape had managed to coax a very nervous Crabbe down from the chandelier. All three of them were now trying to hex Peeves into submission. Peeves, however, was apparently not feeling very submissive. He had broken into a wild dance and was screeching with glee every time a spell bounced off his armor. Harry saw Goyle in the corner, cowering and pantless, but looking none too worse for wear.

The other students had scrambled into any nook and cranny that they could find, attempting to protect themselves from all of the spells that were being deflected this way and that. Neville had bravely led several younger Gryffindors into a passageway that was concealed by a heavy tapestry.

“C’mon,” Harry said to Ginny, moving to grab her arm. “We better get out of here before we get hit.”

Too late. Harry felt himself being hit in his wand hand by a wayward spell. Ginny screamed and Harry, when he saw what happened, wanted to scream too. Just like Malfoy, he had been hit with a severing charm. It had cut his wand hand cleanly and neatly from his wrist and even though there was no blood, Harry found the sight of his limp appendage on the stairs almost too much to take.

“Finally,” Harry heard Snape hiss from nearby, “Potter receives a punishment that fits his crime. See what happens when you steal school property, Potter.”

Harry saw that Snape had finally subdued Peeves and was now staring at the severed hand, smiling coldly.

“I’d fix it for you, Potter, but I think you deserve to be punished. Frankly, it’s high time that you suffer the consequences of your actions.”

Before Harry or Snape could respond further, Ginny grabbed Harry’s good hand, and whitening slightly, his severed hand. With a slight tug, she led him away from Snape and towards the hospital wing.

“Someday,” she muttered angrily. “Someday, that git will get what he deserves.”

Before he knew it, they had made it to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey had mended his hand with a simple wave of her wand. She had made Ginny leave while she was working, claiming students shouldn’t see such things.

“What next, Potter?” she said to him as she checked her handiwork. “I just don’t know what to do with you. Even your father didn’t bang himself up this much.”

“You knew my Dad,” Harry said, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to him before.

“Of course,” Madam Pomfrey said. “He spent a considerable amount of time here you know. Not always hurt, mind you. He liked checking in on his friend, Remus. That would be Professor Lupin to you. Poor Remus was in here more often than anyone should be.”

“Do you remember the time he did detention here,” Harry asked?

“The time?” Madam Pomfrey chuckled. “You’ll have to be a little more specific, dear.”

Harry pulled the detention card from his pocket and read her the details.

“Ah, yes,” Madam Pomfrey said, smiling ruefully. “I specifically remember that time.”

“I know some of what happened,” Harry said. “The first day anyway. Bellatrix took after my dad with her wand and you chucked them all out of the room. My Dad and his friends were going to go back that night to see Lupin.”

“Oh, they came back,” Madam Pomfrey said. “What they didn’t know is that Bellatrix and Regulus got there first. Now, I’m not sure if you know this Harry, but Bellatrix wasn’t a very nice girl, and Regulus, well, he wasn’t much better. They had begun to suspect that Remus had a…condition, and they intended to catch him when his friends weren’t around, force him to tell the truth. They had been sneaking veritaserum in all of the medicine bottles. Not only what is it a cruel, foolish thing to do, it was dangerous. Veritaserum is a powerful potion. It shouldn’t be mixed with certain brews. Luckily, I keep a close eye on things here and knew that there was a wicked plan afoot. When Bellatrix and Regulus snuck in that night I was ready. They cast that ridiculous Muffliato spell…”

“You know about Muffliato?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“Of course I know about Muffliato!” Madam Pomfrey said, sounding slightly offended. “Things are never quiet around here and the buzzing sound about the ears is too irritating to ignore. You wouldn’t believe the students who cast it and then inculpate themselves.”

Feeling a little panicked, Harry wondered how many other people knew about Muffliato.

“Now as I was saying, I knew they were coming and I was ready. Remus and I had it all planned out. He was going to pretend to be asleep and I was going to hide in my office pretending to be under the mighty power of Muffliato,” Madam Pomfrey’s story had sped up, clearly she was enjoying the act of reliving her moment of triumph. “I stuck my wand through the crack in the door and performed a switching spell on the bottle of experimental wolfsbane potion that Bellatrix had taken from my office earlier. It was a complicated bit of magic I tell you, but it worked. When they forced Remus to drink what they thought was veritaserum, he calmly told them that he was not a werewolf.”

“Oh, were they disappointed,” Madam Pomfrey laughed. “Even more so when I told their Head of House what they had done. At my request, they were demoted to bathroom duty. I couldn’t have them in my hospital wing endangering my patients. Your father and his friends, on the other hand, were allowed to stay and finish out their detention. They caused their own brand of trouble, but it usually only involved innocent trouble like mud or vials of stinky, smoky dungbomb gas. Not one of my favorite Zonko inventions, by the way.”

“Tell you what, Potter, you keep my Muffliato secret, and in return I’ll tell you every story I know about your Dad and his mates. And I’m willing to bet, that I can provide a wee bit more information than a detention card.”

And then, much to Harry’s surprise, Madam Pomfrey winked at him.

[zymurgy]

The Curious Incident of the Cow in the Nighttime

Harry whirled around and stared, eyes boggling, at the scene before him. Peeves was whizzing through the halls, wearing his absolutely favorite pair of red pants, waving Professor Snape’s coffee mug. With a psittaceous cackle, the poltergeist dissipated, becoming invisible, but Harry could still see the coffee mug floating in the air high above their heads.

Harry was not a timorous boy, but he had no desire for more detention, and he knew that if Snape found him anywhere near the scene of the crime he would be blamed. He quickly flattened himself against Uric’s portrait, which was conveniently hung in a recess of the wall. “Don’t scratch the paint, boy,” said Uric.

“Sh!” whispered Harry, “He’s coming!”

At that moment, Snape came around the corner, a look of dudgeon upon his face, his wand drawn. “Peeves!” he shouted. “Show yourself!”

Harry watched in horror as the coffee mug over Snape’s head turned upside down. His wince proved premature – the cup was empty. But it continued to descend, inch by inch, as Snape moved on, oblivious to the danger overhead, getting closer and closer to Harry’s hiding place.

A sudden inspiration struck Harry. He knew that whatever happened he would be inculpated, and thought he so something to make the extra punishment worth it. He drew his wand, as silently as he was able, and aimed at the mug. “Engorgio!”

Peeves must have understood what he was trying to do, because the mug stopped in midair and let the Spell take effect. The mug stretched and grew until it was as large as a bucket.

Snape stopped dead, having noticed the telltale crackle of the Spell. His eyes darted about the room, and his wand hand twitched. Peeves wasted no time – he dropped the mug right over Snape’s head.

It fell with a plangent clunk, completely covering the Professor’s head. Snape was knocked off his feet, and crashed into the wall, his wand rolling away from him.

Harry forgot himself, his ‘saving people thing’ taking over. “Professor!” he yelled rushing forward. “Are you all right?”

“Potter!” shouted Snape, his voice echoing and strangely muffled within the mug. “Is this the zenith of Gryffindor derring-do?”

“It was Peeves!” said Harry. “I was just … er… passing by, and … ah…”

A polite cough interrupted him. He whirled about to see Dumbledore smiling benignly down at them. “Severus,” he said, “is that some new example of sartorial elegance on your head!”

“Give me my wand!” snarled Snape, his normally flagitious voice made risorial by the muffling effect of the mug. “And that boy detention! He may have permanently damaged my pulvinar!”

“His pulvinar what?” asked Harry, nonplussed. “What’s dusty?”

“It’s a bit of his brain,” said Uric the Odball, “and, pardon me, Headmaster, but my head has a far better example of sartorial elegance on it than his.”

“Of course, of course,” said Dumbledore amiably. “Severus, my boy, I knew you were a bit bibulous, but this is ridiculous!”

“Detention, Potter!” snarled Snape, trying in vain to wrench the mug from his head. “I’ll have you ted all the herbs in Greenhouse Six! I’ll have you cleaning out Hagrid’s rabbit warrens for the rest of the term!”

“It was Peeves, sir,” Harry explained to Albus, “he stole the Professor’s mug, and, well…”

“That’s subreption!” snapped Snape. “Potter did it, I adduce that Peeves isn’t powerful enough to override an Infrangible Charm in order to cast Engorgio!”

“I am at a loss, mirabile dictu,” said Dumbledore. “I shall have to animadvert a bit. In the meantime, Harry, why don’t you help the Professor on down to the hospital wing. Do get his wand for him too…”

Harry scrambled to obey, grabbing the professor’s wand from where it had rolled, and offering Snape a hand up. Snape knocked his arm away, and stood on his own.

“I am quite capable of going there myself!” he snapped. “Leave me be!”

“But, Severus,” said Dumbledore, trying hard not to smile, “however will you see where you’re going!”

“I can cast a Fractus just as well as she can,” snarled Snape. “I don’t need her to remove it, I need her to give me some Anodyne Solution.”

“I’d rather not have you loose your head altogether,” said Albus. “On your way, both of you. Don’t loiter in the halls, my boy, and come to my office afterwards.”

“ALBUS!” shouted Severus. “If you DARE –”

“Give me my wand,” snarled Snape, dangerously, advancing towards where he thought Harry stood.

“You’ll get it at the hospital wing,” said Harry, suddenly filled with a sense of invulnerability. It was hard to be afraid of a man with a mug stuck on his head, after all.

“You’ll pay for this,” snarled Severus. “Detentions too good for you! I’ll take you off Quidditch!”

Harry took hold of Professor Snape’s arm and began to lead him towards the Hospital wing, deliberately taking an overly long and twisted rout through the Castle, going up and down as many staircases as possible. He took particular pleasure in ‘forgetting’ to warn his Professor about the false step.

Soon Snape was severely disoriented, not to mention quite furious. He had, however, given up long ago on snarling at Potter, considering the many hoots and hollers of hysterical laughter he had heard. He was sure he had heard Minerva in the mix, and was simply furious with Potters bland explanation of, “I’m just taking him to the Hospital wing. He …er… had a run in with Peeves.”

He would not stand for being humiliated and decided that he would rather have rumors going ‘round that person might have been Snape with a mug on his head being led about by Potter, rather than shout and remove all doubt about it. Fuming inwardly, he had no choice but let himself be dragged about.

Finally, he knew they had reached their destination by the smell. The hospital wing was always redolent with the smells of Doris Dotty’s Disinfectant.

Harry was about to call for Madam Pomfrey when he stopped in astonishment.. Malfoy was laying on one of the beds, a mulish look on face, his right arm swelled to the size of a pumpkin.

“Now, now, dear,” the nurse was saying, “If you’d just come to me in the first place I could have reversed it before it got too bad, and squeezing it like didn’t help any.”

“It wasn’t my fault the Weasley idiot decided to splosh me with Swelling Solution,” Malfoy snapped, as Poppy prodded and poked.

“Excuse me,” said Harry, deciding he would have to get all the details from Ron, later, “but –”

“POPPY!” shouted Professor Snape. “If you do not render me assistance AT ONCE, might I remind you that I KNOW about your clandestine romance with that Knockturn Alley costermonger!”

Pomfrey started and whirled round. Upon seeing Professor Snape, drawn up to his full height and no doubt furious, but with an enormous coffee mug on his head, followed by Harry, who had a suspiciously innocent look on his face, she couldn’t help herself and burst into hysterical laughter.

“I am in need of assistance!” snarled Snape, “And I still know about that Costermonger!”

“He’s a mountebank,” she primly, recovering her composure. “Sit.”

Snape sat.

Madam Pomfrey brought out her wand and cast Engorgio on the mug. Once again, it stretched with a scritching noise until it was large enough to remove. Harry found himself wondering how it could have been large enough to go on, but to small to remove, when he was distracted by the sight of Professor Snape. His head was bleeding, and the area near one shoulder was swollen, black and blue.

“I’m afraid you’ve broken your collar bone, Professor Snape,” she said, gently pushing at the swelling. “I’m sorry I laughed. Let me get some Skeleknit and a Sleeping Draught. We’ll have it set and done in a few hours. Lay back and don’t move.”

Severus lay back on the pillows with a groan. “Get out, Potter,” he barked weekly. “I’ll expel you later.”

Harry was horrified. He hadn’t meant to injure his Professor at all. Suddenly, he understood his father and Sirius. They hadn’t been either callous or stupid. They had just gotten carried away in the heat of the moment, and something that had seemed like a good idea at the time escalated out of control and became far more serious than they would have liked.

Backing out of the room, he nearly knocked over the enormous vase. Righting it quickly, he noticed the hairline cracks indicative of a hasty and badly cast Reparo. Sparing one more glance at Snape, he scrambled out of the Hospital Wing.

Breaking into a run, he hurried to the Headmaster’s Office. He arrived as McGonnagal was stepping out, and dashed passed the gargoyle, just before the door slammed shut.

“Mr. Potter,” she snapped after him, “do look where you’re going!”

But Harry never heard her. He was running up the stairs and burst into Albus’ office.

The Headmaster looked at him over his spectacles, an odd, disappointed look on his face. “Back so soon?”

“I’m sorry!” Harry blurted out. “I didn’t mean it. Peeves had the mug over his head, and I … I didn’t think and I enlarged it, and he dropped it… and his collar bone is broken, it’s all my fault, and I…”

“And you thought it was funny to lead him all about the castle for your classmates to ridicule, not bothering to think he wanted the Hospital Wing for a reason,” said Dumbledore.

Harry hung his head.

“Whether you meant it or not you have seriously injured a Professor,” said Dumbledore. “And you deliberately exposed him to the ridicule of his students. I am disappointed in you. I had thought that perusing the exploits of your father and his friends, you would have realized how pointless and oftentimes dangerous such pranks are.”

“You knew that’s what he was making me do!” said Harry. “You –”

Dumbledore nodded. “The Professors assign detentions as they see fit. I saw no reason to stop him. I thought you would learn a lesson, but apparently you have not let go of the misology of youth.”

“I don’t understand,” said Harry miserably. “He acts so horribly to us and you don’t do anything. He – ”

“Didn’t deserve to be injured, Harry,” said Dumbledore firmly. “A bad temper is not a pleasant trait, but also not evil.”

“He’s a Death Eater!” shouted Harry. “Of course he’s evil!”

“He is no more Death Eater than I am,” said Dumbledore. “He has worked for our side longer than you have been alive.”

“But he’s evil,” protested Harry. “I’m sure he’s still working for –”

“Petitio principii,” said Dumbledore.

“Petiti what?” asked Harry.

Dumbledore didn’t explain, merely saying, “You would do well to remember that Professor Snape in particular has more reason to be bitter than the rest of us.”

“What reason?” asked Harry. “Who cares if he was teased in school! I was teased in school before I came here, and I’ll tell you it’s a lot better than being gawked at and whispered about all the time!”

Albus shook his head. “I’m not speaking of his school days,” he said. “I’m talking about his work. He risks his life to spy for me. Voldemort is a hard master; at any time there could be an epuration of his forces, and Professor Snape could die.”

Harry’s horror at the incident was fading and an irrational anger was replacing it. “Voldemort is just as likely to kill me!” he snapped. “And I’m not going about making everyone miserable.”

Dumbledore shook his head. “Not everybody, but you have taken your anger out on bystanders. It took a week to reverse the curses on Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy last year. And I hear your friend Weasley cursed Malfoy again this evening.”

Harry crossed his arms. “Not my fault,” he said. “I’m not the one that started it.”

“Leaving Malfoy aside for the moment, I believe you did something to deserve Detention,” said Dumbledore. “Injuring a Professor is a serious offence. I am taking sixty points.”

Knowing better than to protest, Harry merely nodded.

“And I believe that another week of Detention is in order, though under the circumstances, I believe setting you to work further with Professor Snape is not wise. Perhaps… with Professor McGonagall.”

Harry nodded, biting back an argument – he knew McGonagall would be furious at him, not only for his actions but for setting Gryffindor so far back.

“Now, Harry,” said Dumbledore, brightening as though nothing had happened, “I believe we need to chat a bit about your apparent ability as an Empath.”

“A what?” asked Harry.

“Empath,” said Dumbledore. “Snape did inform me after your first detention that while touching certain of the cards you seemed lost in thought – that you had somehow accessed the events mentioned, as though seeing a memory.”

“But –” protested Harry, “I was just imagining things, I didn’t.. it wasn’t…”

“If it were just your imagination, then how could your facts fit so well with Uric’s?” asked Dumbledore. “Tea?”

A silver service popped into existence on the desk, and Harry accepted a cup. He decided that the day had become odd enough that asking how Dumbledore had known what he and Uric had discussed was a bad idea. He had to try hard not to stare at Dumbledore’s injured hand, and instead wrapped his mind about the idea that he could sense past events, without also trying to process more information.

“An Empath is one who can access static emotion or memories embedded in ordinary objects. It is mostly activated by touch.” Dumbledore sipped his tea, and looked for all the world as though he were discussing nothing more volatile than the weather. “I believe you have recently developed the talent – as your mother did at about your age.”

“Access static emotion?” repeted Harry. “You mean, I can touch anything and sort of … relive what happened to it? But how does it –?”

“It’s Magic, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “Explaining how it works would take me an age, I’m afraid. Let us say that when particularly moved, thoughts become too much, and they disperse into items related to the source of their distress. It takes a great deal to be recognizable, even to an Empath. But several people were involved in that Detention – not only the students, but also the teachers, and Filch, who wrote the card at the time.”

“I was … reading … stale thought?” asked Harry.

“Not so elegantly phrased, but true,” said Dumbledore. “I shall ask you to be very careful about what you lay hands on. One cannot afford to be distracted in times like these.”

Harry nodded, slightly dazed.

“Now, I believe you have a few housemates to explain a great loss of points to,” said Dumbledore. “I shall also expect you to apologize to Professor Snape.”

Harry nodded and rose. “Yes, sir.”

He turned to go, but stopped abruptly when Dumbledore said, “Oh, and my boy, remind Poppy of my pridian request.”

“Yes, sir.”

Leaving the office, Harry’s thoughts were in a whirl.

Could he, perhaps, now somehow sense history just by touching things? What memories had he missed from before his talent had developed? Were there any imbued in his father’s cloak? In the Marauders Map? His stomach clenched as he thought of the shattered pieces of the mirror, lying in a box at the bottom of his trunk.

He made his way slowly towards his common room, but upon hearing Ron deponing loudly that he couldn’t have lost sixty points because McGonnagal had only taken twenty for Cursing Malfoy in the hallway.

Not wanting to explain and face the wrath of his housemates just yet, Harry made an abrupt about face and headed back to the Hospital Wing.

He inched inside, and waited for Pomphrey to be finished putting some sort of dressing on Snape’s shoulder before speaking. “Er… the Headmaster wanted me to ask you about his …er… request. Thing.”

Poppy looked over her shoulder at a bottle full of strange smoke. “It’s not finished yet. I’ll let him know, myself. Thank you, Potter.”

Harry inched further inside. “I, er…”

“If you want to apologize to the man,” she snapped, “you will have to do so when he is conscious.”

Harry nodded and ran, barely hearing her say, “Never heard of such a thing, in all my years at Hogwarts…”

When he had put enough distance between himself and the Hospital Wing, he ducked into an empty classroom. Reaching into his pocket he removed the card he had stolen. Now that he knew what was going on, he recognized the strange pull of the card for what it was – a myriad of information.

Letting himself be pulled into the memories, he found himself in the Hospital Wing once more.

It was twilight, and the full moon was streaming light into the room. While the brumal weather had not improved, the room was now sparkling clean, even more sterile than usual. The vase, with its visible cracks, was the one thing not perfectly done.
Remus was the only patient. He lay in his bed, fidgeting slightly with the covers, looking nervously out the window.

James and Sirius entered the Hospital Wing quietly. Remus looked askance at the door, and it took Harry a moment to realize that while he could see them in spite of the cloak, due to the nature of the memories, Remus could not.

“I know its you,” Remus rasped. “What is it?”

“Well,” said Sirius, dropping the cloak from his shoulders and bouncing to the foot of Remus’ bed, “for one thing, you haven’t yet told us who hexed you and with what.”

Remus shook his head. “Wasn’t a hex,” he protested. “I’m just sick. Let me sleep.”

“You look more awake than ever,” James pointed out unhelpfully, “and we have things to tell you!”

“Much has been happening since last we met,” said Sirius grandly.

“You mean since the last time you were clapperclawing your cousin, and since you and the rest had to clean this place top to bottom?” asked Remus.

James nodded. “We found out what Bellatrix was up to,” he said. “Trying to put itch powder into the Anodyne, you know. Knew it would cause sore throats if it were drunk, and that they wouldn’t be cured by any usual method. Nobody thinks of pouring anti-itch cream down a person’s throat.

“Whatever for?” asked Remus.

Sirius shrugged. “She said she wanted enough people with a mysterious illness for the school to be shut down for a week or two.”

James nodded. “She confessed when they caught her trying to fill a vial of Headache Healer with itching powder. Apparently, she didn’t want to be missed when she went for some political meeting or other, and she got Regulus to help her.”

Sirius grimaced. “Little rascal always liked her best.”

Remus coughed. “You have the most wonderful siblings, Sirius.”

“Speaking of wonderful,” said James, “you cancelled the Muffliato spell, didn’t you?”

Remus admitted it with a nod.

“You traitor!” said Sirius playfully. “Why can’t you do things like that when people will notice?”

“Remus Lupin, undercover rule enforcer,” teased James.

“Undercover is right,” said Remus. “Don’t know why they chose me. Thanks a lot for coming by and explaining and all, but I really have to get some sleep, and Madam Pomphry will be by any minute with my…”

“Medicine,” finished Pomphry, stalking into the room. “You boys get out. I’d take points, but you’ve lost enough for ten years in the last few days.”

Sullen, James and Sirius shuffled towards the door.

Madam Pomphrey pulled a vial from her pocket. Harry recognized it with a start – it was filled with the same smoky mass as Dumbledore's had been, only much more concentrated.

“Here you are, dear,” she said, uncorking it and letting the putrid fumes float about his head.

While Remus and Madam Pomfrey were occupied in the administration of the odd medicine, they never noticed James and Sirius open the door and shut it – but remain inside, under the cloak.

Harry watched in fascination as the two followed Pomphrey and a staggering Remus from the Hospital Wing. Right before the memory faded, he caught sight of the writing on the bottle: “Pain Dulling Fumes of Isgard.”

With a sigh, Harry pushed the card back in his pocket. “Dumbledore must have really injured himself,” he thought to himself. “Pain Dulling Fumes…”

Getting to his feet, he decided it was now late enough for him to count on his mates to be too tired to question him about their point loss, but not late enough for the teachers to be patrolling.

On his way back, he saw Peeves leading a cow towards Filch’s office. Peeves winked at him, beckoning him to join in the fun. Harry decided he neither wanted to know, nor be in trouble for whatever it was, shook his head, and made his way back to bed.

True, he now had extra detentions, and had probably ensured Professor Snape’s enmity forever, but he hadn’t been expelled, he still had access to the cards, and he had a new talent to explore.

A sudden feeling of esprit d'escalier hit him. “Darn it all,” he thought to himself, “I should have told Malfoy I was sorry Ron got the wrong arm…”