The Upside of Being Down

Chapter Six: The Happy Fairy

It was Monday morning and I was in the middle of my favourite lesson, Arithmancy. Professor Ackerman was off on one of his habitual tangents (no math-nerd pun intended--he just had a bizarre talent to be talking about one thing and end up on an entirely different topic, without any of us having any idea how he'd managed to get there) and I was just trying to finish the homework he'd already assigned so that I'd have time to take a nap after supper.

Sirius had visited my room again the night before, as promised, and it had lasted well over three hours. My question of the night--the agreed upon single query into his personal, mysterious life--had been whether there was any member of his family whose slow and painful death by way of honey and a thousand fire-ants he wouldn't be pleased as punch to witness. He'd come up with two names--a surprising number considering the sort of relationship I had a vague notion he shared with his immediate family--which were a cousin, Andromeda Tonks, and an Uncle Alphard.

I quite wanted to meet these people.

Anyway, as I mentioned, his visit had been a long one, and I'd yet to recover. I was well on my way to achieving that squat hag appearance so common in Freaks-Who-Function-on-Four-Hours'-Sleep.

Or am I being too harsh?

At the beginning of class, I had noticed Lily Evans' absence from her usual desk directly across from mine, one row ahead. This was especially conspicuous to me not just because my visual memory had become so accustomed to seeing her eye-catching red hair in my corner of vision, but also due to the fact that I hadn't spotted her, much less had the opportunity to actually talk to her since our run-in at the Three Broomsticks, though I'd been meaning to, as I wanted to make sure I hadn't offended her.

Somehow, I got the feeling I had, and I couldn't see any rational reason for her to hate both James and me. Besides, I had to live with her, and nobody likes a snarky Head Girl.

Ackerman's monotonous drone ceased rather abruptly just as I was on the verge of solving question sixteen--and feeling quite smug about it, too--and I looked up in annoyance to see what had cause the disturbance.

I spotted it in the form of one of the school's owls, which was perched just outside the classroom window, tapping its beak impatiently against the glass pane. It wasn't raining out, but it was a rather windy, gusty day, and the large, tawny bird had a distinctly ruffled look about it.

Ackerman fumbled with the window latch, his round, clean-shaven face fixed in an expression of flustered irritation. He had a long, indigo ink-smudge on the side of his chin, I noticed, with certain admiration.

At last, he got the window opened and the owl swooped in immediately, soaring across the classroom.

Much to my surprise, it landed right on top of my homework, hooted once in indignation, then stuck its leg out petulantly. A rolled up bit of official-looking parchment was attached to it.

I sat in puzzled shock for a moment--it wasn't like I never got letters, but certainly never in the middle of class--then caught the owl's impatient yellow glare and hastily untied the parchment. It took off again, as soon as I'd succeeded in freeing it of its burden, and Ackerman slammed the window after it, scowling perturbedly and muttering in evident distraction. His small, crinkled blue eyes were positively glowing with what I was sure was another brilliant outburst of arithmancitical theory.

Did I mention I was half in love with the man?

Sadly, I was too preoccupied by the feel of my classmates' curious eyes fixed on me to dwell for long on my admiration of the man's intellect, and I could feel my cheeks growing a bit hot as I stared down at the rolled parchment in mingled dread and confusion. But my own considerable curiosity won out and I unfurled the note in my lap, looking down to read the slanted, loopy dark-green cursive.

"Dear Miss Spencer,

"Your presence is requested at a short meeting to be held immediately in the Headmaster's office. I imagine you are quite familiar with its location. The password is 'Sugar-quills". Your professor will excuse you.

"--Albus Dumbledore."

I did not like the sound of this at all. What was I being blamed for now? It had only been our previous class (Defence Against the Dark Arts) since I'd last seen James and the rest. I swear, I let them out of my sight for five minutes...

"Erm... I've got to go to Professor Dumbledore's office," I said, in answer to Ackerman's questioning gaze.

I heard a few girls in the front corner of the room snicker in response to this announcement, and I shot them a quelling glare as I quickly gathered my things and left the room--rather reluctantly, as I hated to miss a lesson of the one thing I was any good at.

But I didn't dawdle--the note had said "immediately" and my numerous experiences thus far with the school's Headmaster didn't allow me to see any advantage in doing otherwise.

***

I had just turned a corner into the hallway that boasted the entrance to Dumbledore's office when I noticed a girl--a sixth year, I thought--heading down the same hall, in the opposite direction as me.

I recognized her vaguely, though I couldn't recall her name. She was a Gryffindor, I knew, a year below mine. I'd seen her in the common room several times, though I'd noticed she often sat in the sidelines, off on her own--whether by choice or circumstance, I didn't know, but I now thought it a bit odd that she didn't seem to have many, if any, friends. She looked like a nice enough girl and, though probably cripplingly shy, was pleasant enough anytime someone talked to her.

She looked nothing short of terrified at the moment, walking quickly with her big, brown eyes as wide as saucers and focused steadily on the stone floor. Her long, loosely waving dark hair was tied back into a haphazard knot at the nape of her neck, and a thick lock of it had come loose and was tucked behind one ear, adding to her harried appearance. Her uniform was neat as a pin, however, her robes impeccable, and as I walked towards her I wondered idly if she wasn't the irritating sort who kept a separate drawer for only her socks, and who ironed and starched her knickers.

I didn't ask.

She spotted me heading down the hall towards her, and she gave a very credible attempt at a wobbly smile when we reached each other.

"Hello," she said in a soft, shaky, timid sort of voice that gave me a sudden, irrational urge to ply her with cupcakes and various other sweets, in exchange for her not bursting into tears altogether, which she seemed on the verge of doing.

"Erm... hi. Are you all right?" I inquired, despite myself.

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out and--to my horror--her bottom lip began to tremble.

I seriously considered dashing off to the kitchens to get her those cupcakes, and perhaps a pumpkin pasty or two. Thanks to James, I knew exactly where the house-elves kept them, too. My mum had always given me some kind of comfort food to make me feel better when I was young and it looked as though I'd taken her questionable maternal instincts to heart.

Before I could ask what the matter was, the girl took a deep, shaky breath and squeaked out, sounding positively mortified, "I've been called to the Headmaster's office."

I was somewhat relieved. And here I'd been thinking she'd suffered some horrific personal tragedy. Or had shot somebody, perhaps.

Anyway, it at least explained the girl's current emotional state--I knew her to be something of a swot, or at least the sort of person who played by the book, and I imagined something so minor and common (for me, anyway) as a trip to the Head's office must be devastating to her.

"What'd you do?" I asked jokingly, with a playful grin. "Get caught snogging in the cloakroom? Cheat on your Herbology exam?"

These things were everyday nuisances for me--especially if one considered the sort of company I kept. She, however, visibly blanched and when her eyes filled with tears of alarm, I was quick to amend my statement.

"I've been to see Dumbledore loads of times, and it's not so bad," I hastily assured her. "It's not as dreadful as it sounds, trust me. Though, half the time I've been, I'd not done anything wrong, having been unjustly accused." I clenched a fist, staring off at nothing for a moment as I recalled all the aforementioned times with a certain amount of righteous outrage.

Something in my statement must have reassured her, because she brightened considerably. "So you think there might have been a mistake?" she asked hopefully.

"I'm sure it's possible. What did they call you down for?"

Her chin quivered again. "The note didn't say. I was in Potions when I got it, and all it said was that I was to come to Professor Dumbledore's office immediately."

"Odd," I murmured. "I got a note, too, that said practically the same thing." Then I shook my head and said, with assurance, "Well, rest-assured that if we're both being accused of something we didn't do, I won't let us go down without a fight."

She smiled again, more genuinely this time, and said, "You've always had such confidence, Tia. I've seen you, with your friends... it must be difficult, having all those boys around all the time."

I could only smile. If she only knew. "Oh, I manage all right," I said wryly. Then I went on apologetically, "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"Oh!" She turned prettily pink and said, "It's Aubrey. Aubrey van Houlton."

"Van Houlton. I like that. It's very... distinguished."

She blushed even deeper and gave a sort of half-shrug.

"Right," I said briskly. "Shall we go up, then?"

***

Once upstairs, standing with Aubrey outside the Headmaster's door, I was feeling somewhat less uneasy about this so-called meeting of Dumbledore's. It appeared that if a girl I'd barely met was involved, then I could hardly be in any sort of trouble, unjust or otherwise. And anyway, I was purposely acting like it was nothing, as I didn't want her to start tearing up again.

"Would you like to do the honours?" I offered, gesturing to the door-knocker.

To my surprise, she shook her head violently, causing the loose lock of hair to slip out from behind her ear. "No," she said adamantly.

My brows shot up. "All right. I'll do it." I knocked firmly, then waited for permission to enter.

It came almost immediately. "Do come in, ladies."

I pushed open the door and went in, Aubrey close behind me, and smiled blandly at Dumbledore's brief and shallow bow of acknowledgement.

"Good morning," he greeted, gesturing for us to take a seat in two of the three chairs in front of his desk.

I crossed the quietly tinkering room, glancing idly at the multitude of silver contraptions scattered about on various spindly-legged tables. I waggled my fingers flirtatiously at the portrait of Phineas Nigellus in passing, but he merely raised his narrow, black-bearded chin haughtily--I wasn't terribly deterred, however, as I knew he really adored me, deep-down.

Fathoms deep, obviously.

Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix and an old acquaintance of mine, squawked then yawned lazily at me in way of greeting.

"Hello, Miss Spencer, Miss van Houlton. How are you both?"

"Fine, thanks," I responded politely.

I glanced over at Aubrey when she remained silent. She was gaping at Dumbledore in petrified awe, large eyes wide again, her fingers curled around the arms of her chair so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Her lips were pressed firmly shut, and I thought if she had been able to speak, what would have come out would've been something along the lines of "Eeep!"

That, or "Holy fucking hell."

I faced Dumbledore again, settling my book-bag in my lap more comfortably, and said, "So. Read any good books lately?"

"Yes, indeed, Miss Spencer," Dumbledore replied, smiling genially. "There was a snappy little novel--very dialogue driven--about a family of chipmunks living in the cellar of a bakery. I quite enjoyed the numerous useful parallels to acorns."

"Hm. Dialogue is interesting, so long as the chipmunks have something worth saying. Although I'm afraid I'd be a bit biased towards such a book. I don't have a very great affection for fluffy-tailed, big-eyed woodland creatures." I shuddered. "Creep the hell out of me."

"I quite understand. I had the pleasure of viewing the Muggle film 'Bambi' a year or so past... I'm afraid I've never been quite the same since."

I nodded solemnly. "Now that is an excellent example of crap dialogue."

I was attempting to relax Aubrey by showing her Dumbledore was nothing more, really, than a barmy old gaffer (brilliant, but barmy), and was carrying on this admittedly nonsensical conversation to try and lull her into some sense of, if not calmness, at least confusion, which I knew to be a far more comfortable emotion than sheer terror.

It seemed to be working marginally.

Dumbledore and I were just getting started on Flower the Skunk's possible mental retardation when the door to his office opened.

Turning in my seat, I saw none other than Lily Evans walk briskly in. She eyed us with brief curiosity, then folded her hands and inquired primly, "You asked to see me, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore nodded, smiling genially, and gestured to the empty chair on my other side. "Yes. Please sit down, Miss Evans, and we can begin."

The presence of the Head Girl, of all people, only seemed to serve to petrify Aubrey even further, and I saw her hands actually begin to shake. Really, this girl needed a keeper. It was no wonder she didn't appear to have any friends--she'd be scared off by her own shadow, never mind another human being's presence.

I shot Lily a look for effectively ruining my progress at relaxing the poor girl, and was met by an expression of shocked bemusement. But I turned back to Dumbledore and asked, "Begin what, exactly?"

"Well," he said slowly, steepling his fingers. "There is a matter that needs to be discussed. Several matters, to be truthful. I won't keep you long, as lunch-hour begins shortly, but this is nevertheless rather important--even more so, I'm afraid, than what I am certain promises to be an excellent shepherd's pie."

"Professor?" Lily said, raising her brows expectantly.

"It concerns your current academic standings at this school. All three of you," he began, his sparkling blue eyes abruptly serious.

I squirmed slightly in my seat. I didn't think I was failing any of my classes--not technically, anyway--but I was almost painfully aware that there was definitely considerable room for improvement in certain subjects areas.

He paused, as if to allow for comment, but we were all silent. Lily and Aubrey looked merely confused, as if they hadn't any idea how their report cards could possibly be an issue.

That must have been nice.

Dumbledore went on. "You all have your strengths and weaknesses, the same as any normal human being. It would be unnatural to be perfect and I can't tell you how happy it makes me that none of you, or any of my students, are that. Unfortunately, certain weaknesses must be rectified or at least helped in order to advance in life. I would like to give the three of you the opportunity to use your strengths as a means to help each other's weaknesses."

That sounded rather quaint. Nice, in a way; almost idealistic. But I still had no idea what in hell he was harping on about, so I spoke up.

"Which weaknesses are you speaking of, exactly, sir?"

Lily nodded in agreement, while Aubrey stared fixedly at a point just over Dumbledore's shoulder. She didn't look quite so scared. In fact, she looked merely thoughtful. It was a good look on her.

"Sir?" I repeated, ever more apprehensively. "What's going on?"

Dumbledore beamed at us.

Oh God.

***

Well, it was official. I could never look any of my friends in the eye again. I would have to lead a double-life, keeping my most shameful secrets completely hidden from those that I love.

James would never give me a moment of peace, asking me to "put in a good word." Sirius would never give me a moment of peace, taking the piss out of me. Remus would want to know how I was doing, of all things.

And Peter... well, I wasn't entirely sure what Peter would do, but for the sake of getting my point across in a dramatic and hard-hitting fashion, I shall make something up.

Peter would feel neglected with that much less time he'd get to spend in my scintillating company.

Dumbledore was making me get a tutor. This wasn't, however, the worst of it. Oh, no--that bit came in the form of Lily bloody Evans.

It seemed our estimable Headmaster thought himself something of a genius. And in a fit of questionable ingenuity had decided that, as members of the same house, we should be working together as a unit to "better ourselves." Furthermore, we would be doing it completely against our will and for two hours, three evenings a week.

I lay, now, flat on my stomach in my bed, my head buried under my pillow, furious tears soaking my sheets as I cursed the name Albus Dumbledore.

I wasn't the only one who was unbelievably hacked off because of it, though, which was some small consolation. Lily herself wasn't too pleased about the situation, because--ha!--I was being made to tutor her in return. Aubrey as well, both of them in Arithmancy--double ha.

Sadly, my current Charms grade was much worse than I'd thought. And as it was necessary for my graduation into Curse Breaker training, I had to pass it, something I was not--apparently--doing at present. This was where Lily came in.

It wasn't even just my pride that was stinging so badly from this blow dealt to it.

Okay, that's untrue, it was pride.

But still, I'd tried being reasonable, and Dumbledore was having none of it. I'd tried bargaining, pleading, even the silent treatment (immature, but usually quite effective with the male species.) He'd done nothing more than fold his hands and ask politely which nights I would prefer to schedule our tutoring sessions.

Then after we left Dumbledore's office, I was a bit upset (oh all right, I was pouting my little arse off) and Lily practically pitched a fit at me, demanding to know what my problem was, did I not think she was good enough to tutor me, and so on. And then she called me a rude, stuck-up cow and stomped off.

The nerve! I nearly ran after her to show her just what my problem was, and possibly rearrange her face for her in the process, but I was too shocked to do much more than sputter idiotically. When Aubrey put a hand on my arm and asked me if I was all right, I snapped at her, (quite cleverly, too, obviously) "No!" before storming off myself.

Aubrey looked slightly traumatised and when I saw her again in the common room that night, she didn't look at me. I was too livid at Lily and Dumbledore and life in general to care. Much.

Lily had left the dorm an hour ago, making a great show about gathering her things and flouncing off to stay the night in her head dormitory. She could rot in there, for all I cared. Even James withheld on his usual nightly proclamation of never-ending love when he saw how rankled we both were.

The lads knew something had upset me of course--it wasn't as if I was trying to hide it. But in traditional bloke fashion, they got all fidgety and weird and started joking about to ease the tension. As a result, I was no longer speaking to Sirius either, who'd thought it would be oh-so-hilarious to charm my hair and uniform a sunny yellow, sprout sparkly wings on my back and dub me "The Happy Fairy."

This attempt at clever irony had earned him getting his fingers slammed in my Ancient Runes textbook (which was not small) and me calling him a "horrible, insensitive berk."

I sobbed into my mattress, gripping my pillow over my head even tighter and squeezing my eyes shut against the hot tears that had been falling for the past hour. I half-wished I'd not shouted at him, because I suddenly found myself wanting nothing more than to talk to him; about the tutoring, about Lily's tantrum... just to talk. The likeliness of his visiting tonight wasn't very... er... likely.

I considered going to him. I really needed to just unload, even if I'd pay for it from endless teasing later. But I had some pride, and so I stayed in my own bed, my pillow muffling my sobs, thinking up nefarious and tempting ways that a certain mad old codger and bitchy red-head could meet their untimely demises (well, I didn't suppose that Dumbledore's would be "untimely," per se...)

***