Hogwarts: The Legacy

(c)2005 by Josh Cohen. May not be reprinted, except for personal use. The Potterverse was created by JK Rowling, and remains her property. I\'m just borrowing it for a little while.

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TWENTY-THREE: RUMORS

Warning: contains drug use.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” said Professor Snape as he stood at the dais in front of the Head Table. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I will get right to the point: I expect all of you to uphold the values and traditions of this school, and I would ask that none of you are called into my office on disciplinary matters. Of course, I know that to be impossible, but I remain hopeful nonetheless.”

Snape looked down at the assembled students, from the confident seventh years ready to attack their NEWTs to the first years who were quite obviously afraid of him. From his seat at the Ravenclaw table, Jason paid attention to the professor with half an ear; the rest of him was focused on the conversation he’d had on the train with Jamie Dupree.

He tuned back in to the very end of the speech, which was only forty-five seconds after he tuned out. “And finally,” Snape was saying, “I have heard whispers and rumors forming around certain students. I do not wish to hear these rumors borne out any further than they already have. If you feel that a student is being maligned, you are strongly encouraged to speak with your Head of House, and if he or she is unable to satisfy your concerns, you should make an appointment with me to discuss these issues.”

Professor Snape waved his hand as he turned to go back to his seat at the Head Table. By the time he’d sat down, more than three-quarters of the school were already tucking in.

Caroline tapped Jason on the shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“Are you all right?”

“Hmm?”

Caroline looked at Jason’s face, then figured out where he was looking. She saw Jamie Dupree staring back at him, her eyes red-rimmed, a hastily- and sloppily-applied glamour not doing its job – which made sense, since glamour required the spell’s recipient to believe it was working. Jamie obviously didn’t believe that.

“Jason, you cannot worry about her all the time.”

“She’s right,” Alison said, busily cutting a slice of roast chicken. “We’ll do what we can, but if she’s got problems, we need to let her deal with them.”

“She asked me for help,” Jason said with a sigh. He reached for the shepherd’s pie and scooped out a serving. Caroline, unasked, ladled a spoonful of broccoli onto his plate. “Thanks. I just wish there was something I could do.”

“For whom?” Andrew Colwyn leaned down and clasped Jason’s shoulder. “For the team, I hope.”

“Hey, Andrew.” He reached up and the captain shook his hand firmly. “I’m just thinking about a friend. She’s having some problems.”

“Couldn’t be worse than the problems Gryffindor’ll have this season. Have you heard about Dupree?”

Jason’s face shut down. Alison and Dina shared a sidelong glance. Caroline’s face was schooled to avoid showing emotions. “No, I haven’t. And I don’t want to, if that’s all right with you.”

Andrew laughed. “Come on, Goldman, it’s great news for us!”

“Tell me at the meeting, then.” Andrew had owled the entire team before the end of summer; there would be a meeting tomorrow, after the first day of classes and the first day’s evening meal, where they would begin nominating replacements fro the recently-graduated Lisa DeMarco.

“Whatever you say,” Andrew said, standing up straight. “But I’m sure you’ll hear it before then.”

Jason watched Andrew walk down the length of the Ravenclaw table and leave the Great Hall. Sure enough, not more than thirty seconds later, Amber Locksley pushed away her plate and left the Slytherin Table and the Great Hall.

After heaving another sigh, Jason returned to his meal, eating it without gusto. He didn’t take part in any of the conversations going on around him, and the girls noticed. So did Michael MacDougal and Colin Carrington, who were seated on his other side.

They mentioned that in the dormitory while the six Ravenclaw fourth years were putting away their clothes and possessions in bureaus and wardrobes.

“What do you mean?”

Colin shrugged and flopped down onto his bed. “You just seem less together, that’s all. Less like you have any idea what’s going on around you.”

“Is something going on?”

Colin shook his head. “I mean, I’ve heard some things about one of the Gryffindors, but all I know is that she’s in seventh year.”

“What have you heard?”

Colin told him.

Jason slowly, and with exaggerated deliberation in his movements, turned and left the dormitory.

“What’s up with him?”

Julian was seated in the window alcove, one pane of glass charmed out, a small marijuana pipe in one hand and a plastic lighter in the other. He drew a deep breath from the pipe and held it, then blew it out the window. “I have no idea. Maybe he could use some of this.” He passed the pipe and the lighter to Edward, who fumbled with it before Julian finally pulled it out of his hands and arranged it properly. “Breathe in through your mouth, and hold it as long as you can.” He flicked the lighter and lit the fragrant herbs in the bowl; Edward inhaled and held it.

And held it.

And held it.

“For the love of Merlin, Ed, you don’t have to show off.”

Edward, who had been a champion youth swimmer before coming to Hogwarts, exhaled slowly. “What did you put in that?”

Julian handed the pipe and the lighter to Michael, who had far more experience and was able to get his own lungful of smoke without assistance. “Just marijuana. And a little dried murtlap.”

“Does it work?” Michael said in that odd, hollow way that meant he was holding his own breath.

“Seems to.”

Colin waved off the pipe; Julian took another hit and then set it down on the stonework ledge. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t,” Colin reasoned. “I mean, it numbs pain when you put it on a cut. Why wouldn’t it numb your chest if you breathed its fumes?”

Julian shrugged. “Dunno. What’s this rumor about the Gryffindor seventh year?”

Colin lowered his voice. “I heard one of them got into this sex party last year, and slept with two guys at the same time.”

“Really?” Michael was sitting on the floor, his head back against the side of his mattress, drawing a dragon in a large sketch pad. “I heard she was kissing everyone – girls, guys, even a statue.”

“Close,” Christopher said as he entered the dormitory room, “but that’s not the whole story.”

“What is it then, hotshot?” Julian asked, handing the pipe and the lighter to Christopher.

The tall blond boy smiled as he took a deep hit, blinking his blue eyes in surprise. He let it out and asked, “murtlap?”

“How’d you know?”

“You’re not the only one who’s tried it. It makes you thirsty, instead of hungry, and the high doesn’t last as long.”

Julian nodded. “Got any recommendations?”

“Yeah. Don’t sleep with Jamie Dupree.”

The other four boys looked at Christopher, their eyes wide – and not just from the marijuana – and their faces agog as he gave them as much of the story as he knew.

“Got a moment, Professor?” Jason asked.

“Certainly.” Professor Stein rolled her wheelchair back behind her desk and waited for the last of the Muggle Studies students to depart. She flicked her wand to close the classroom door, then tilted back, balancing on the small wheels affixed behind the main wheels. “What’s on your mind?”

Jason pulled a chair up from the front row of tables and turned it, straddling it and leaning his chest against the rungs of the chair’s back. “Can I ask you as my aunt, not as my professor?”

She leaned forward, dropping onto the chair’s four main wheels. “Sure, Jason. What is it?”

He took a slow breath, let it out. “Look, I know we don’t normally act as family here, but I don’t know where else to turn with this.”

“I think I would know better how to help you if I knew what was on your mind.”

Professor Stein – Jason’s Aunt Natalie – had worked for the Magical Bureau of Investigation in America. She knew how to drag things out of people. But she didn’t need those skills; all she needed to do was wait for Jason to arrange the words in his head.

“It’s about Jamie Dupree.”

The professor’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you were seeing the Malfoy girl.”

Jason blushed. “That’s not what I meant. She’s three years older than me. And I like Caroline just fine.”

“Then what is it?”

Jason told her, his words coming slowly and haltingly. Professor Stein could see it easily in his eyes that he was concerned about the Gryffindor seeker, that he didn’t know how to help her.

“Look,” she said when Jason finished the story, “I think you’re doing the best you can. I think she needs a friend more than anything else right now, and I think you’ll make a good friend to her.”

“Thanks.”

Professor Stein checked her watch. “You’re going to be late for your next class. Let me do you a pass.” She waved her wand and a square of parchment on her desk turned pink. A few strokes of her quill and the late slip was done. “Just be there for her,” the professor said as she passed him the slip. “And don’t tell her if you hear too many rumors. She’s probably fragile enough as it is.”

Jason nodded and stood. “Thanks, Natalie,” he said. Unlike his father, he had no trouble not saying “aunt”. “I appreciate it.”

“Sure thing. Am I your professor again now?”

“I suppose that would be best.”

“Good. Then get to your next class before your next professor takes points, regardless of the slip.”

“It’s Lupin,” Jason said as he returned the chair to its desk and shouldered his bag. “He’s kind of soft about that sort of thing.”

“I know,” she said. “On with you.”

Jason left the classroom. Natalie Stein steepled her fingers and rested her chin in the nook between her index and thumb.

The back door to the classroom – the one that led to her office – opened.

“You coming?” That was the voice of Anna Vector, the Arithmancy professor and the Head of Gryffindor House. She and Natalie had the second period off on Monday mornings, and as the two women were friends anyway, they had made arrangements to have morning tea.

“I think you’d better come down here, Anna,” said Natalie. “We need to talk.”

“I have an announcement to make before we begin this meeting,” Andrew said. The rest of the team was seated in the chairs closest to Professor Flitwick’s desk; the Ravenclaw Head of House had offered his classroom to the team for tonight. “It looks as though Gryffindor will have a new captain this season.”

“What happened to Dupree?” Wesley asked. His fingers were linked loosely with Marianne Flint’s, and his feet were up on the desk, his chair tipped back a bit. “I thought she was their captain.”

“So did I.” Andrew hitched a hip onto Flitwick’s desk. “It looks like she’s stepped down from the captaincy and from the team. Gryffindor’s going to need a new seeker along with their new beater, whoever that ends up being.”

“Why?” Fabian’s voice had grown deeper, if that was possible.

“I heard from one of the Slytherins,” and they all knew this meant Amber, even though no one had the nerve to bring it up, “that she got dans une certaine condition at the Quidditch graduation party over the summer after shagging Antonovich and Taggart, and also getting it on with Jordanna Kollan.”

“I didn’t think she was into girls,” Francesca said speculatively.

“Neither did I,” Andrew replied, then looked at Jason, whose face was again like stone. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, Goldman. Someone hex your puppy?”

He lifted his chin and met Andrew’s eyes. “Just trying to find out what language that was supposed to be.”

Andrew laughed. “Doesn’t matter. I heard McCullough say it once last year, and it sounded like something worth stealing. Come on, Goldman, aren’t you happy to hear that Gryffindor’s going to need to train a new seeker as well?”

“Oh, yes.” He didn’t sound it. “Overjoyed.”

“Come off it,” Wesley snapped. “Your job just got easier, didn’t it?”

“I think you mean your job. Isn’t Dupree the only one who didn’t grab the snitch out from under your nose last season?”

Wesley colored and looked about to stand up, but Marianne rested her slender hand on his shoulder.

Andrew held up his hands, palms out. “Goldman, Wesley, just calm yourselves. We’ve got other things to discuss.”

The seeker sent Jason a look that clearly told him the discussion wasn’t over, but they had to listen to their captain at this point as he laid out training, practice, and tryout schedules, then passed out the new playbooks. “We very nearly won the Cup last year,” he said in closing. “This year, Slytherin will have three new players, and their biggest scorer, Aurelia Flint, is no longer at Hogwarts. Wesley and I would very much like to win the cup in our final year here, and we’re counting on all of you to play your best.”

“We always play our best,” Francesca said, her voice distant.

“I know. This year, though, we’ll have to be even better.” He gathered up his things. “That’s it. Good night.”

The team filed out of the classroom and headed up toward the dormitories. On the way, Jason felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, and only quick reflexes kept Wesley from breaking Jason’s nose with his fist; Jason half-caught the blow on his arm, and two of the seeker’s knuckles skimmed across his cheek. Before he could recover, Jason stepped into Wesley and pressed his forearm to the slender young man’s throat, bending him back against the staircase railing.

Wesley tilted his head to look down, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Flitwick’s classroom was on the fourth level, and each level of Hogwarts was twice as high as in a muggle building. It was a long way down.

“I thought we were supposed to be teammates,” Jason growled.

“We... we are!”

Jason saw Andrew and Fabian heading in his direction and leaned down, bearing his weight on his arm. “Hit me again, and you’ll be sorry. Just catch the snitch and stay away from me.”

The captain and the keeper made it to Jason and he leaned back, releasing Wesley, who stood up and lunged toward Jason; Fabian caught him and held him easily.

“What the hell was that?” Andrew snapped in a sharp whisper. “What are the two of you playing at? Save it for the pitch!”

Jason stayed silent, faking contriteness; Wesley’s face was flushed and he strained against Fabian’s grip. “Let it go,” the keeper said. “Or we’ll be training a new seeker too.”

“I can take his ass!”

“Can you?” Jason leaned back against the wall, arms folded. “Then how come I beat your seeker speed and you didn’t knock me out.” He tapped the rapidly-forming bruise on his cheekbone. “This is nothing.”

Wesley opened his mouth to snarl something, but Andrew’s hand dropped onto his shoulder and squeezed. He looked up at the captain, who was looking down the stairs. “Good evening, Professor Granger,” he said as if he wasn’t digging his fingers into his seeker’s trapezius muscle.

“Is something wrong?” The Potions Mistress made her way up the stairs.

“No, nothing. Wesley just lost his footing. We were making sure he didn’t fall over the railing.”

She drew up level with them on the wide staircase. “Are you all right, Mr Sarginson?”

“Fine, Professor. Thank you.” He pulled out of Fabian’s grip and readjusted his robes.

The professor eyed them all; Jason turned his head just enough to hide the bruise on his cheek. “Very well,” she said. “Good night, gentlemen.”

“Good night, Professor,” they said, and moved to let her pass.

The moment she was out of the way, Andrew dragged Wesley over to the wall where Jason was standing. “That’s the end of this discussion,” he said quietly, and with no small amount of finality. “We are a team, and we are part of a House together. Resolve your differences on your own time, and not where we can lose house points. Or either of you to a detention.”

“I’m not worried,” Wesley said airily. “My girlfriend is a prefect, remember?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jason stood up and stretched his arms over his head. “I don’t have a quarrel with Wesley so long as he does his job on the pitch. If you’ll excuse me.”

Jason left the three older boys on the stairs and went on up to the Ravenclaw tower.

This was not turning out to be his best year.

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Notes: I\'m sure you know what\'s coming. But that\'s what I specialize in -- giving you enough plot coupons to know what\'s coming, and then, like a person tied to the tracks, you see the headlamp of the oncoming train but you\'re powerless to stop it.