A Little Knowledge

“Perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon,” said Sissy as she sat down at the table that Sophia, Olivia, and she were sharing near the rear of the library. She had just fetched a book on dueling from among the shelves.

“If only Martin and Corinna would hurry up and join us. What’s keeping them?” asked Olivia impatiently as she glanced up from her History of Magic assignment.

“If Martin hasn’t seen his uncle in a long time, they’ll certainly have lots to talk about,” said Sophia, who was perusing a hefty volume on antidotes, but neither of her friends could figure out why unless it was just for the fun of it.

“I suppose,” shrugged Sissy.

“You don’t like him,” stated Olivia.

“I neither like nor dislike him,” she said indifferently, “but I am of the opinion that he’s going to prove to be troublesome.”

This was mostly the truth. Sissy respected that he was an Auror who had come to protect them at the behest of the headmaster, but something about the way he had treated Professor Knowles had not set well with her. They had been rivals, if she understood properly, but if that were true, then he had most likely been a Slytherin. And not all of them were like her mother. Not all of them were good people. Not all of them could be trusted. Astrophel Black and his ilk had taught her that much. If not for Moody’s relationship with Martin, she might have been concerned.

“You won’t be saying that when he takes care of the vampire,” said Olivia pointedly.

“If,” said Sissy with a slightly sneer. “If he takes care of it.”

“He’s a fully trained Auror. The next time it comes to the castle, I can well imagine him apprehending it,” said Sophia, “or killing it.” She added the last bit more quietly.

“We shall see,” said Sissy, holding up her dueling book for a moment, “but I don’t want to take any chances.”

Sophia and Olivia both shuddered and returned their attention to their assignments.

The girls left the library approximately an hour later to return to the Ravenclaw common room where they hoped to find Corinna and possibly Martin. A slightly rowdy group of Gryffindors, including Arthur Weasley and Molly Earnshaw, had invaded the library and Madam Pince had yet to make a move to shut them up or toss them out. The three girls found it rather irritating, but then they decided that it was time to move on.

They were halfway between the library and the Aerie when they heard a voice behind them.

“So where’s your fat, half-breed friend, Howard?” asked Astrophel Black in a slow, poisonous drawl.

Sissy whirled around and snapped, “Don’t call her that. You’re naught but a boot-licker’s son.” How her wand had found its way into her hand even she did not know. It had become a reflex.

“Temper, temper,” said Black with a hard sneer.

She could see the anger flash in his eyes even if he gave no other sign. Her words had affected him. She was sure of it.

“Did you want something? Or are you just cluttering up the hallways?” asked Sissy.

Sophia and Olivia had stepped up behind her. She could practically hear Olivia seething what with that temper of hers.

“Oh, I just wanted you to know that I am aware that you’re the one who told that blind bat who cursed his cane, and that you should expect full recompense for that,” said Astrophel conversationally.

“Big words from such a little wizard,” scoffed Sissy, “but thanks for letting me know.”

He narrowed his eyes and his wand hand drifted toward one of his pockets. Sissy made no move to stop or hex him. She wanted him to have his wand out. She longed for a fair fight, for a chance to put him in his place fair and square.

Then she glanced past Black for a second and saw two figures coming down the corridor: Martin and his uncle. She scowled, knowing that if they were to have a wizard’s duel in the hallway at that moment, it would be both their necks on the chopping block. She was trying to decide if it would be worth it.

“I suppose we shall see about that,” he said, whipping his wand from his pocket.

As often happened in such situations, what followed went as no one had anticipated, not Black and certainly not the girls.

Just as Black lifted his arm and Sissy brought her wand up to block the spell, Martin realized what was going on and began barreling down the hall with his very surprised uncle practically on his heels. But instead remaining idly by, Olivia and Sophia had hastily drawn their wands too, casting the first spells that came to mind. Martin, however, was on top of Astrophel in an instant, throwing off his aim as he cast some obscure hex, or possibly even a curse. Almost needless to say, few spells found their intended target.

Sophia had cast a simple, but embarrassing and rather distracting spell, Tarantallegra, at Astrophel, but thanks to Martin tackling him, it shot straight past both boys ... and directly at Alastor Moody. She would have been mortified if she had seen the results of her spell, but something else was on her mind. When Sissy had deflected Black’s spell, and rather neatly too, it had not dissipated. The spell had hit Sophia instead, and she found that all of the sudden she could not breathe properly.

Olivia, normally a rather perceptive witch, would certainly have noticed her friend’s distress if not for Martin and Astrophel scuffling on the floor like Muggles while Alastor danced a jig and tried to pull them apart. She could not help but gape, though much to her good fortune the almost harmless hex she had directed at Black had missed everyone in the corridor and struck a nearby suit of armor, rattling it quite thoroughly.

“Enough!” shouted Moody, dragging Martin away from Black, who had lost his wand in the tussle and gained a bloody nose. Alastor took his own wand from his sleeve and quickly removed the dancing hex.

Martin was breathing heavily and scowling at Black, who kept touching his nose and looking at the blood as though he had never seen any before. Martin had taken a few weak blows to his chest and a good one to the stomach, but he had certainly given better than he had got.

“Rotten little beast!” spat Black when he found his voice.

“You just keep quiet,” snarled Alastor, giving Martin a good shake to keep him from saying anything back. “Now, I want to know what this was all about,” he said, turning to the girls.

Sissy had an enraged and insolent look on her face as she looked down at Black.

“He attempted to attack us,” she replied in a deadly cold voice. Part of her was angry that Martin had interrupted, but mostly she was angry that she had not even had the chance to hex or curse Black.

“What is the meaning of this?” yelled someone from down the corridor.

“Bad to worse,” muttered Alastor as he released Martin and turned toward Professor Krohn, who was jogging down the passage with a book tucked under his arm. He quickly stuffed it into a pocket as he ran.

“Professor! They attacked me again,” said Astrophel in a phony innocent voice, holding up his bloodstained hand for his head of house to see.

Krohn was no fool and had kept an eye on Black since the incident with his colleague’s cane and the boils, but blood was blood.

“Moody, had you hand in this?” he asked in an even voice. There was, however, a rather prominent vein in his forehead that was beginning to show.

“Hardly,” said Alastor, “but I did see your student draw his wand against three younger students.” He did not add that Sissy Howard had seemed to have had her wand in hand first.

Krohn was going to argue the point, but instead he frowned, shoved Alastor aside, and walked to where Sophia was standing, oblivious to the argument, clutching her throat and not making a sound. She was beginning to turn a rather worrisome shade of gray that almost approached blue.

“What did you do to her?” hissed Krohn to his student, who remained sitting on the floor.

“Nothing,” he said sulkily. Krohn narrowed his heavily lidded eyes. “Er, maybe I put a Constrictus Curse on her,” Astrophel grudgingly admitted. Krohn had a certain power over his own students.

“You what?” bellowed Moody, reaching down and yanking Black to his feet with astonishing strength for a man of his size.

Professor Krohn decided to leave Black to Moody while he calmly scooped asphyxiating Miss Colville up in his arms and began dashing back the way he had come with long and hurried steps.

She grabbed a handful of his robes and moved her lips. He sneered at her and tried not to wince as she pinched him hard.

“You always come out worst in these little incidents, don’t you? First your wrist, now this. Someday it’s going to get you killed,” he lectured, looking up and down a corridor. “Help?” he asked, recognizing the word she mouthed with her almost colorless lips. “I’m looking,” said Krohn. “I can’t take the curse off myself. You’d probably blow up and splatter all over the hallway. Doesn’t anyone realize why I almost never use simple charms, counter-curses, and all of that other bloody wand-waving nonsense?” he asked, speaking rather quickly.

Sophia was too much in a panic herself to recognize nearly the identical state in her professor.

“And don’t you dare pass out,” he continued, running toward the hall where the defense corridor was located. “Cyrus!” Krohn bellowed very loudly. “I swear, if this one-upmanship doesn’t stop, young Mister Black will Avada Kedavra Miss Howard by the end of the school year, and don’t think he wouldn’t, if he knew how,” said Krohn earnestly, knowing quite well what his student was capable of. “But knowing your luck, he’d hit you instead,” he said before taking a deep breath and bellowing for Knowles again.

Though Sophia was beginning to see spots, her thinking cleared just enough for the notion, “I’m going to die,” to enter her mind, and that certainly didn’t help matters.

A door opened down the corridor and Cyrus Knowles leaned out.

“Reynard? What the devil are you on about? I was studying, you know,” said Knowles with a touch of irritation in his voice.

“I just need you to do a quick spell for me,” said Reynard as he ran down the corridor. Sophia was beginning to slip away.

“Oh?” asked Knowles with only the tiniest bit of curiosity.

“Miss Colville has been struck by a Constrictus Curse,” he began to say.

Knowles appeared surprised and said, “That’s a rather nasty curse. Is she with you? Because if not, she will probably be quite dead by the time we get to her.”

“I have her here,” said Krohn impatiently.

“Bring her inside then,” he said, moving to let Krohn into the classroom.

“Do hurry,” said Krohn over his shoulder as he placed Sophia on the desk at the front of the room.

“I’ll bet one of yours did this,” said the Gryffindor defense professor nonchalantly as he drew his wand. “Now, where is she?” he asked.

Krohn seized him by the arm and thrust him toward the desk, guiding his wand hand until it was over Sophia.

“There! There!” he hissed.

“Resolvo Incantatum!” spoke Knowles, feeling mildly annoyed by his colleague’s conduct. “Well?” he asked.

Krohn rounded the desk and shook Sophia by the shoulders. Sweat dripped down his face and into his eyes. She didn’t move nor make a sound. In fact she still didn’t seem to be breathing. If she were dead at the hands of Black ... he wasn’t sure what he would do.

“You did it wrong!” he accused Knowles.

“How so?”

“She’s still not breathing, you imbecile! Do it again!” he demanded loudly.

“Are you quite sure she isn’t dead, Reynard?”

Krohn paled and fumbled for her wrist. His hands were shaking.

“Stupid, silly, idiot girl!” he said through his teeth as he scrambled to find her pulse.

“That’ll help,” said Knowles, who was beginning to seem mildly unsettled. “Are you sure my wand was pointing directly at her?” he asked.

“Of course!” snapped Krohn, dropping her wrist, apparently satisfied.

“Bloody hell then. Try reviving her the Muggle way. I heard it worked one or twice in France,” he suggested, referencing some obscure wartime incidents of which Krohn apparently had some knowledge.

Krohn stared at him for a split second before doing as he recommended, forcing Sophia’s mouth open and breathing for her. Where his colleague had learned this, Knowles could not say for certain as Krohn was very much a pureblood. But then the potions’ master was always full of surprises.

“Breathe, damn you!” he hissed between breaths.

After a few moments Sophia gave a quiet cough.

“Turn her toward me so she doesn’t choke,” advised Knowles, reaching to help the professor as he did so.

“It hurts,” mumbled Sophia as she began to come around. Her chest and throat ached terribly, and she felt as though she still couldn’t breathe properly. When she opened her eyes she could see spots dancing before them again.

“Maybe it will help you to learn not to get involved in brawls,” snapped Krohn rather harshly.

He was momentarily glad that Knowles couldn’t see the relief on his face that could not be wiped away. He tore the strand of leather from his hair and let it fall in his face like a blond curtain. He stood there for a moment longer, collecting himself, before storming from the room and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Miss Colville, I think you should go to the hospital wing,” said Knowles, patting her shoulder perfunctorily.

Krohn left the classroom in as dignified a manner as he could manage and promptly collapsed, sliding down a wall, some eight paces down the hallway. He had not lost a student in many years and never one with so much promise as Miss Colville. He was grateful that the loss had been averted and conscious of the fact that it had been a very near thing. His legs were like jelly, and his hands were still shaking as he sat there.

He mopped his sweat-streaked face with his sleeve and listened to the approaching sound of footsteps coming up the corridor at a run. He suspected that it was Colville’s friends and Moody, but didn’t bother looking up.

“Where she?” called Moody.

“Classroom,” he replied, giving a vague wave of his hand.

He listened to the students enter, but another set of footsteps, even and heavy against the stone, approached him.

“I could probably have said the counter spell,” Moody told him, offering him a hand up.

Krohn threw back his hair and said, “As if I’d trust the life of a student to the likes of you.” His eyes flashed angrily as he spoke.

“Be that as it may,” said Alastor, continuing to offer his hand.

Krohn reluctantly accepted it and stood, scowling at the Auror with all his might and knowing that he would not leave well enough alone.

“What have you done with Black?” he questioned stiffly.

“He’s manacled in the corridor. I thought clapping him irons might be for the best ... until his head of house could deal with him,” said Moody neutrally.

“Fair enough,” agreed Krohn.

“What will you do to him?”

“He deserves expulsion, although I am reasonably certain that he did not intend to permanently harm Miss Colville, but this sort of thing has been going on between Black and those girls and young Dumbledore all term. I cannot imagine that he was not somehow provoked,” reasoned Krohn.

“That was an awfully powerful little curse just to have handy. Are you sure he didn’t learn it for this occasion?” asked Moody.

“You are implying premeditation. You ought to ask Howard about that. She cast Magnus Dedecoro on Black not so long ago,” said Krohn icily.

“You don’t say?” commented Moody, rubbing his chin.

“I do.”

“Then she’s far more creative than he is,” shrugged Alastor.

“Her creativity was nearly the end of them both,” said Krohn very grimly.

Meanwhile in the classroom, Olivia and Martin were helping Sophia down from the desk. She looked dazed and was rubbing her throat, but she could manage to stand with a bit of help from her friends, who had been very frightened indeed when Krohn had taken off down the hall with Sophia and no explanation. They were lucky to have had Moody there to keep them calm before all four of them had heedlessly followed after the potions’ master.

Professor Knowles and Sissy were giving the others some room as they made certain that Sophia was all right. She felt much relieved. Unlike Martin and Olivia, she understood what sort of curse Astrophel Black had used, and how potentially deadly it was.

“I hope they take his wand,” she murmured to herself, watching Sophia wince in pain as she tried to answer questions from her friends.

“They won’t,” said Knowles simply.

“Why not?” she questioned.

“For much the same reasons they didn’t take yours. Of course, I doubt anyone will want to keep him from being punished by Pringle. I hope that gives you some satisfaction,” said Knowles evenly.

“A bit,” she decided, “but not nearly enough.”

“Professor Krohn will probably devise his own punishment too,” said the defense professor. Sissy managed a grim smile at that. “Do me a favor,” said Knowles.

“Of course, sir,” she said quickly.

“Get her out of my classroom and to the hospital wing, Miss Howard,” he instructed.

Alastor was waiting for them in the corridor when they left the classroom. He studied Sophia for a moment and nodded in the direction of the nearest set of stairs that would take them, eventually, to the hospital wing. Martin, who was still helping Olivia support their injured friend, nodded in return. His head was spinning too much to formulate an answer. Everything had happened so fast!

“We nearly lost her. Sophia nearly died,” he thought, trying to make sense of the words in his brain. He blinked a bit owlishly and tightened his grip around Sophia’s waist.

Sophia looked at him gratefully. Her normally olive skin remained the color of cold ashes, but there was the faint spark of life in her eyes again. She was beginning to recover at least in part, although she certainly would have stumbled without her two companions beside her.

“Don’t worry. It isn’t very far now,” said Olivia, tugging at her braided hair affectionately as they climbed a staircase.

Sissy and Alastor were trailing somberly behind them.

“Why didn’t you try to take him, lass?” asked Alastor quietly.

“Because I don’t want to be expelled. I don’t want detention with Pringle again either,” she told him coolly.

“I suppose I can understand that,” nodded Moody thoughtfully.

“Of course, if I had realized that this would be result of his actions ... I would have cursed him first,” she said in a low, dangerous voice.

“Know some good ones, do you?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, inclining her chin slightly. “I am at the top of my class in defense,” she added, giving him a sideways glance. He looked properly impressed.

“You know that with knowledge comes power, and with power there comes responsibility,” he said.

“Naturally. That has not escaped my attention,” she replied.

“Good,” he murmured as they followed the others into the hospital wing.

Sissy, not to mention the others, frowned in surprise when they entered the hospital wing to find Corinna already there waiting on them. She was as white as a sheet and standing with Professor Mallaghan. The expression on his face was one of calm curiosity.

“Sophia! Are you all right?” asked Corinna, dashing over to them. They were making for the nearest bed. “That scoundrel didn’t hurt you, did he?” she questioned anxiously.

Sophia couldn’t talk because it hurt too much, but she shook her head and tried to smile as Martin and Olivia helped her onto the bed.

“You knew?” asked Martin in surprise.

“Yes, but I didn’t know where the fight was going to happen. All the castle’s corridors look the same!” she explained, wringing her hands in frustration. “I was with Professor Mallaghan at the time, and he suggested that we come here and wait and see,” she added, reaching and patting Sophia’s hand as she lay down. “We’ve only been here five minutes or so,” she said as an afterthought.

“She’ll be fine. I’ll fetch the mediwitch,” said Alastor, giving Corinna an odd look as he walked away.

“The Inner Eye can make some people very nervous,” commented Mallaghan with a slight chuckle. “I would count Mister Moody among them,” he added once the Auror had disappeared from sight.

“He was one of your students, professor?” asked Sissy, raising an eyebrow.

“Indeed,” nodded Mallaghan, “and a very bad one. He took the subject for only two terms, decided it was hurting his marks, and quit. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Isn’t anyone going to tell me what happened?” asked Corinna.

“I thought you already knew,” said Sissy.

“Not everything!” Corinna protested in exasperation. The talent hardly provided her with a Muggle moving picture show of the events. Just snippets of the occurrence.

“Black hit her with the Constrictus Curse ... that was meant for me,” said Sissy with an uncomfortable wince. “She couldn’t breathe ...” she added in explanation.

“And we didn’t even notice,” muttered Olivia.

Martin nudged her and shook his head, trying to tell her that they were not the ones at fault.

The story was interrupted by the arrival of Madam Pomfrey.

“Stop crowding her!” she ordered, forcing Martin and Olivia away from the bed. They obediently moved to the foot of the bed where Mallaghan was standing. “I want all of you out of here!” said Poppy, removing her wand from her pocket.

“But ...” Olivia began to protest.

“Can’t one of us stay?” asked Martin.

“Only one of you, just like the last time,” said Pomfrey with a fierce and serious glare.

Martin, Sissy, Olivia, and Corinna all exchanged looks, trying to decide who would stay. It was not an easy decision to make since they all wanted to remain with Sophia.

“Poppy, dear, I hope you don’t think that applies to Mister Moody or to me. I remember when you were when you were an eleven-year-old with pig-tails and a rather charming lisp,” said Mallaghan.

Poppy blushed a deep crimson as she examined her patient.

“I believe I recall that too ... you were such a darling little girl. How on earth did you turn out like this?” asked Moody.

“Out!” she ordered.

“But my back is starting to twinge again,” said Mallaghan, putting a hand to his back. “I’ll need some of that liniment of yours and someone to help me back to my tower,” he continued a bit melodramatically. He looked at the girls for a moment before adding, “I’d like Miss Bellew and the girl with the Evil Eye to be my escorts.”

Sissy looked at him sharply and pursed her lips in mild indignation.

“And I’ve been the victim of a dangerous hex. There might be lingering effects,” said Alastor, who had caught on quickly. He had new respect for Mallaghan’s so-called talents, counting the ability of ... imaginative fabrication among them. “Martin will certainly need to stay with me,” he said with twitching lips.

Olivia grinned and said, “Then I have no choice, but to be the one who stays with Sophia.”

Sophia was grinning, the pain momentarily forgotten, as she watched the humorous scene unfold.

“I give up,” sighed Madam Pomfrey. “Just stay out of my way, all of you.”

Mallaghan summoned a chair and sat down heavily. He watched Poppy work for a moment before gesturing for Corinna to join him.

“I am impressed,” he said to her.

“Don’t be. I wasn’t any use to her, was I, professor?” she questioned quietly.

Joseph noticed her eyes drifting toward Moody, who had an arm around Martin’s shoulders. He just shrugged.

“Tell me what you know about him,” said Mallaghan in a low voice.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said bluntly.

“That is only naturally your right, my dear,” he conceded with a slow nod, “especially if you don’t believe you can change anything.”

Corinna sighed softly and said, “I don’t think anyone could change this.”

“We shall see,” said Mallaghan placidly.

Sophia was required to stay in the hospital wing overnight, and the mediwitch threatened to keep her out of classes if she did not rest quietly. To this end she was given a mild Sleeping Potion just before her friends and professors, which eventually included her very worried and understandably upset head of house, were finally sent away. She was relieved to know that none of her friends would be punished nor would Ravenclaw lose any house points. This was mostly due to Alastor Moody, although it was Professor Krohn who had reported the incident to Professor Flitwick. Sophia slept more easily knowing these things.

---