A Little Knowledge

Martin awoke with a start during the middle of the night. It was near the end of November, and a sudden draft and a strange sound reminiscent of the flapping of leathery wings had jolted him from sleep. He glanced toward the window to find it open. At first nothing appeared to be wrong, except that the window was not closed as it should have been on such a very cold night. Then Martin saw it: a dark, forbidding silhouette in front of the window, black against the starry night sky. He shivered beneath his covers and blinked hard, desperately hoping that he was imagining things, that there wasn’t really anything there. He could hear the other boys stirring as well, awakened just as he had been by the cold air and the noise, which were all too real.

“What bleeding idiot opened the window?” asked Middleton in a sleepy, but rather irritated voice.

There was a low chuckle from the shadowy figure that sent Martin groping for his wand. There could be no doubt about it now; it was anything but imagined! The dark shape moved forward a bit, slowly and silently. Martin’s heart hammered in his chest as he watched it. He thought he could see red eyes shining in the darkness as it looked from side to side, from Prentice to Middleton, and then at the rest of them, observing them and sizing them up, until its eyes rested on Martin.

“My, my what an interesting group of children,” said a low, amused voice with a slight accent.

Martin slipped out of bed and raised his wand. He wanted a good look at whatever had invaded the sanctuary of Ravenclaw Tower.

“Lumos!” he spoke in a timorous voice, lighting the room with a soft glow from the tip of his wand.

All of the boys gasped and scrambled from their beds as they saw a pale man with red lips and a long black cloak that hung past his knees, blending in with his dark robes as he stood in front of the window. Even the least studious of them realized that this was a vampire. And it was not Andrea Zabini.

This was a somewhat older man. That is to say, a man who had been bitten and changed when he was perhaps in his sixties or seventies, although age hardly mattered to the undead. He was rather tall and broad at the shoulders. As a mortal, he had probably been quite good-looking, but there was something inherently cruel about his angular face.

Most of the boys managed to grab their wands as they skittered back toward Martin, who had also begun to move slowly and carefully away from the vampire.

“Six? What a nice number,” he said, drawing his own wand with a slight flourish. “My hunger is very strong, but I will only be taking one of you this night,” said the vampire conversationally. He bared his teeth for them, showing them his deadly fangs, but his eyes never left Martin, who was in the forefront of the group of first years.

“You would find us unwilling,” said Martin with a slight squeak in his voice. He was terrified of vampires, especially this one. Instinct told him that this was the same vampire that had attacked him earlier in the term.

The vampire laughed and took a graceful step forward.

“That accounts for half the fun,” he told Martin. “And I always try to have a bit of fun with my intended prey.”

Martin was not as well-versed as Sissy in offensive nor defensive spells, and at that moment he was frightened and having a very difficult time thinking properly. He swallowed hard and wracked his brain as the vampire tapped his wand against his palm, gliding forward another pace. The boys were nearly pinned against the far wall with the vampire between them and the door that led to the common room.

“What would Sissy do?” he asked himself in a panic.

According to his textbook, vampires and other undead creatures hated fire.

“Thank Merlin for simple spells,” he thought before yelling out a spell at the top of his lungs: “Incendio!”

The vampire reeled in surprise as his robes caught fire. He tried to extinguish them by frantically patting his robes, but that was having little effect.

“Incendio!” spoke Julian Woodward from over Martin’s shoulder, taking his cue from Martin’s actions.

The vampire shrieked as more flames spouted from his clothing. Then he raised his wand and began hastily casting extinguishing spells on himself.

The other boys, heartened by Martin and Julian’s performance, began calling out spells that they knew as most of them had never used Incendio in their lives. It was commonly a spell for lighting a fire in the hearth and several of the boys came from homes with house elves and were not versed in nor even aware of domestic spells. Martin had seen Sissy use it to light a fire in the hearth late one night. His mum had also used it at home when she had not wished to trouble the elves for something so simple that she could easily do for herself.

The vampire hissed at them, Martin especially, and said, “I will return for you! Sleep lightly, you little fool!” Then he changed into a bat and flew out the window and into the night.

Martin was trembling all over when the vampire disappeared. His hand would not unclenched from his wand, which remained at ready. Had he noticed, he would have seen a similar response from all of the boys, except Prentice, who was hiding behind Middleton and gibbering very quietly about how he didn’t want to die.

“A prefect ... we need a prefect,” stammered Martin mostly to himself.

“Right, right,” agreed Woodward, nodding his head. His teeth were chattering, which made him sound rather strange.

“I’m not going out there!” said Halliday in a panicky voice.

“I think I’m going to be sick!” moaned Middleton, chuckling his middle with his free hand. He had lost most of his color.

Martin steeled himself and turned to face them.

“Two of us ought to go at least,” he decided, looking from boy to boy until his eyes fell on Julian.

“I’ll go with you,” said Woodward, though his teeth continued to chatter.

“Maybe if we shouted ...” said Wainwright in a squeaky voice.

“We’ve been shouting,” Martin reminded him.

He nodded toward the door and Woodward tried to look resolute. He looked as though he had swallowed a goldfish. A very cold goldfish.

“Let’s go,” said Woodward.

The common room was dimly lit, and though they were not aware of the time, it was nearly two o’clock in the morning on a Friday. Each shadow seemed to reach out, ready to pounce upon them as they walked down the stairs from their dormitory. Martin could hear his heart pounding thunderously in his ears as they halted.

“Who?” asked Woodward.

Martin knew more about the prefects than any other boy in his year, thanks to the girls and their habit of eavesdropping. Which one would be most willing to help them and take them seriously? Ambrose? Certainly not! Moss and Denham were in girls’ dormitories. Bode? He was so much older and more than a little intimidating, not to mention dreary. That left only Michael Hayhurst that he knew anything about. He had seen the vampire too. He would understand.

“Hayhurst,” answered Martin, walking toward the stairs to the sixth year boys’ dormitory.

He walked up the stairs, leaving Woodward at the bottom to keep watch, and rapped loudly on the door. Then he waited, rehearsing what he was going to say to the older and most likely irate student who would answer the door. He didn’t have long to do so. Luckily the student who appeared was Hayhurst himself.

“What in the blue blazes?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Vampire ...” stammered Martin as all of the thoughts rushed out of his head.

Hayhurst’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?” he asked Martin.

“It came in through the window ...” said Martin, nodding vigorously. “Please, we’re afraid it’s going to come back.”

“I’ll rouse the prefects. Get your mates to come down to the common room. Someone had better wake Flitwick,” he said, snapping into action.

“All right,” said Martin.

“Hurry!” said Hayhurst before running to get his wand and throw on a dressing gown.

Martin nodded and dashed down the stairs to where Woodward was waiting anxiously. His teeth had stopped chattering, but he still looked afraid.

“Well?” asked Woodward.

“We’re to bring the others down to the common room. Hayhurst is going to get the rest of the prefects out of bed,” said Martin quickly, dashing back to their dormitory.

The other boys were still waiting nervously between the window and the door. They all looked as though they were considering making a break for it as the curtains flapped eerily in the breeze. Prentice had stopped gibbering, but Middleton still looked a touch peaky.

“Out,” said Martin, gesturing toward the door with his wand. “Now,” he added as they didn’t budge.

“Is it safe?” asked Halliday.

“Safer than in here,” Woodward replied, doing what he could to help.

That sent them scrambling easily enough.

Hayhurst and Bode were yelling for the female prefects when Martin, Woodward, and the others entered the common room. Ambrose was no where in sight. Martin surmised that he had either refused to heed Hayhurst or had gone for their head of house. Dormitory doors were opening up all around as students were roused from slumber by the shouts of the prefects.

Martin turned instinctively toward the stairs to the second year dormitory. He could see Corinna and Sissy peering out of the door. His eyes met those of Corinna, and he mouthed the word ‘vampire’. If he had not been cold, shaking, and still a bit scared, he might have found the way her sleepy blue eyes widened quite funny. He watched her whisper something to Sissy, and they both ducked back into the room, closing the door behind them.

“We should wake everyone up,” said Hayhurst to Bode and Ernestina Blythe, the seventh year prefects.

“Who saw it?” asked Bode skeptically.

“Dumbledore,” said Hayhurst, pointing Martin, who was obviously not invited into their conversation.

“I agree,” said Bode, turning to his counterpart, a parsimonious brunette, who appeared to be rather angry.

“And if this turns out to be a prank?” she asked shrilly. Bode winced in a covert manner.

“They look terrified,” observed Moss, the other prefect for the sixth year, who was standing just behind Blythe.

Blythe made an indistinct sound and crossed her arms.

“Everyone’s probably awake now anyhow,” said Hayhurst, glancing toward the stairs to the dormitories. They were lined with anxious students.

“Everyone down here!” barked Broderick Bode, conceding Hayhurst’s obviously valid point.

“Martin, did you really see it again?” asked a soft voice in his ear.

He understandably startled at this before turning to find Corinna and the others there. She was in a dressing gown over her pajamas and looked rather pale. The other girls were dressed in a similar fashion. Olivia was nervously chewing her lower lip. Sophia was fidgeting. Only Sissy looked relatively calm and unbothered, but if any had noticed, she was holding her wand in her sleeve.

“Yes,” he replied solemnly.

“Did it hurt anyone?” asked Sophia, reaching out and giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. He was still trembling just a bit, and she couldn’t help but notice. If the other boys of his year had not been about, she might have hugged him. He seemed to need some form of encouragement.

“No, we woke up and fended it off,” said Martin, glancing at his nearby year mates who were watching as Bode and Moss gathered everyone together in the common room.

“With what spells?” asked Sissy with interest.

“Incendio and some hexes,” Martin replied.

“Good thinking,” she nodded. There was an admiring look in her eyes that Martin didn’t miss. It made him feel much better. “I hope you singed it but good,” she added with unusual fervor.

“I had some help,” said Martin, nodding toward Woodward, who had collapsed in a comfortable chair. “I got a good look at it too,” he said with a slight smile.

“Really?” asked Olivia.

She had not actually seen the vampire since their first night at Hogwarts that term. Sophia had not either, though their friends had recounted their experiences with it in some detail.

“All of us did. I reckon it thought we were easy pickings, showing itself like that,” said Martin. He felt a twinge of pride in their accomplishments. Six first years, five if one doesn’t count cowering Prentice, had defended themselves from a hungry vampire.

“You taught it a lesson,” said Sissy.

The other girls would have congratulated Martin too, but just then the portrait hole opened to admit Ignatius Ambrose, who was wearing what appeared to be lavender pajamas, and a rather flustered Professor Flitwick. The smaller man was wearing a dressing gown and fuzzy blue slippers with the house crest on them.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked in a loud, but squeaky voice.

“The Aerie was infiltrated by a vampire, sir,” answered Bode, who was in charge, more or less.

“Has anyone been hurt?” he asked anxiously, striding toward the older prefect.

“No, sir, not as we can tell. It got into the first years’ dormitory,” he explained, nodding toward the cluster of younger students. “I’m still not certain what exactly happened myself,” said Bode with a dour sort of expression.

Flitwick whirled around and walked to where the first year boys were gathered. Martin gave the girls an apologetic shrug and moved to join them.

“Who saw the vampire?” asked their head of house. They all raised their hands to indicate that they had. “I see ...” said Flitwick, looking at them one by one. His gaze lingered on Martin. “Mister Dumbledore,” he said to get Martin’s attention. The young wizard had been looking at the floor, but his head snapped up when Flitwick said his name.

“Yes, sir?”

“Did you recognize the vampire?” the professor questioned.

“No, sir, not really,” Martin replied.

“It wasn’t Zabini, professor,” interjected Middleton hastily. Martin remembered that he had a step-brother or something who knew the Slytherin prefect. It was rather decent of Middleton to stick up for the student-vampire.

“Thank you,” nodded Flitwick.

“What’s to be done?” asked Woodward, hunching forward in his chair. All eyes were on the little man in the fuzzy slippers.

“I will alert the headmaster, and if he deems it necessary, we will all remain in the common room tonight,” answered Professor Flitwick calmly. Then he turned to the prefects, who were conversing quietly, and said, “Bode, you will come with me to the headmaster’s office. The rest of you will remain here with wands drawn.”

Then he left with Broderick at his heels.

All of Ravenclaw house, less one prefect, were standing around the common room, which meant that as soon as the portrait hole closed again, the room was filled with the noise of a large number of young witches and wizards all talking at once. This made Sissy winced in pain and irritation at the noise as she grabbed Martin and Corinna and began dragging them toward a secluded corner, hoping that Sophia and Olivia would have the good sense to follow them.

The group was hard pressed to find enough seats as the common room was very crowded. In the end they chose to sit on the stone floor, which was neither particularly warm nor comfortable. But at least the corner of the room was reasonably private and as quiet as could be expected.

“We’re going to be here the rest of the night, and then we’re going to classes in the morning,” said Sissy flatly, leaning back again the wall. It was just as cold and hard as the floor.

“Technically, I think it’s already morning,” said Sophia.

Sissy scowled at her and pulled her dressing gown closer around her shoulders.

“Then we’ll be here until it’s daylight,” corrected Sissy.

“Better than going back to the dormitory,” said Martin quietly, drawing his knees up and shuddering.

“It must have been awful,” said Olivia, giving him a comforting prod in the ribs.

Martin winced, internally, and said, “It was better than the last time, at least from my end of it. I hate that bloody thing. I never want it to come near me again.”

“I’m surprised I didn’t know about this,” said Corinna, perhaps in a slightly guilty tone.

“You’re not omniscient,” said Martin with a wave of his hand.

“Right,” Sophia agreed. “The important thing is that you are safe, and everyone else too.” she added.

Martin blushed a little as the other three nodded in agreement. He felt warmer and maybe even a bit more secure knowing that they cared about him like that. Corinna tousled his already messy hair and smiled warmly at him.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

Nearly half an hour had passed when Flitwick returned with Professor Knowles, who had a new cane that was specially warded against harm and mischief, as Astrophel Black had discovered two weeks earlier. Black had recovered from the resulting boils after only three days, but Slytherin house was still suffering from the loss of points. Sissy smiled a secretive, satisfied smile every time she thought about that. Ravenclaw was no longer in last place, and Black was no longer suffering from undeserved popularity, even within his own house.

“All of the other students have been evacuated to their common rooms for the remainder of the night,” Flitwick informed them as all conversations stopped. “Professor Knowles and I will be guarding our common room while all of you attempt to get some sleep. Classes before noon have been canceled for tomorrow,” he added.

“And the vampire, sir?” asked an older student.

“It appears to have left the castle,” said Flitwick. “Rest assured that you are safe here as Professor Knowles and I are quite capable of driving it away.”

A substantial number of students exchanged glances at that, but as a bunch of first years had succeeded in doing so, they felt rather certain that Flitwick was able to do so as well. Many of them did not place much stock in Knowles’ abilities.

“Quite capable,” repeated Knowles with an inscrutable expression.

It was the same serious one he wore in class. Sissy knew it well and noticed his knuckles whitening around the his cane.

A few minutes later the floor of the common room was covered with Ravenclaw-blue sleeping bags and tidy white pillows that Flitwick had conjured. The spacious, and still a bit chilly, room had been divided into girls’ and boys’ halves, much to the displeasure of five students in particular. Of course, Sissy merely shoved Martin rather forcefully, even for a girl as tall as she was, into a quiet recess Professor Flitwick had not noticed on the witches-only side of the room while Corinna and Olivia made off with an extra sleeping bag for him. Martin thought it best not to complain.

“So much trouble, so much trouble ...” Sophia murmured to herself as they arranged the sleeping bags.

Martin soon found himself tucked rather comfortably in the middle of the group between Sissy and Olivia, who, in his opinion, looked rather odd with her hair down. He found the situation to be quite nice with them all scrunched together like that. It was very cozy and warm, but more than, he was beginning to feel safe again with the girls gathered around him.

“This is a bit like camping,” remarked Corinna with a yawn.

“Camping? You mean out of doors?” asked Sissy, wrinkling her nose.

“Well, in a tent,” said Corinna. “I went with my mum and her school friends when I was little,” she added.

“Muggles,” laughed Olivia, not unkindly.

“I would like to sleep,” said Sophia as the common room lights dimmed further.

The last thing Sissy noticed before the lights dimmed almost completely was Professor Knowles sitting in a comfortable chair across the room. He was smiling a bit cryptically and facing their direction.

“Good night,” said Sissy to her friends.

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