Dumbledore's Nephew

Of Flying and Faye-Speakers

Chapter 3

"What?!?"

"I said, I'm resigning from my position as the Gryffindor team Seeker. After what happened to Cedric, I know I don't deserve to be on the team." Harry turned--with a look of mourning and determination on his face--towards Angelina, the new team captain. "I offer you my resignation," and he sat down, staring intently at the seventh year girl.

Their were immediate shouts of indignation from students, and not just Gryffindor students either. Angelina was about to give up and accept Harry's resignation--with Fred and George screaming at her from both sides--when a most astonishing thing happened.

All of a sudden, a large group of Hufflepuffs--of all ages, religions, and backgrounds--came up to the Gryffindor table by where Angelina and Harry were having their stare-down, and Hannah Abbot--who seemed to be some sort of leader of the group--stepped forward.

"Harry, we knew Cedric better than anyone else at this school, and we know he wouldn't want you to resign. He would want you to go on," their were nods from the other Hufflepuffs. "He would want you to keep going. So would you do it Harry?" she asked, pleading in her voice, and tears dripping down her cheeks. "Would you do it for Cedric?" At this point, quite a few Hufflepuffs and other students started to cry, and Harry was obviously quite touched by this.

He gave Hannah a smile and stood, turning to Angelina, who was trying to fight off Fred and George, and the twins immediately fell to ease, staring intently at the boy with raven black hair, and bright green eyes. "Angelina," Harry said, drawing out an uncomfortable pause after he said the girl's name, "I withdraw my resignation." When he said that, the sparkle returned to his eyes, and the smile that donned his face was as bright as the sun.

Cheers could be heard from all over the hall as the entire Quidditch team stepped out into the hall--followed by most of the students from the large room--and posted the Quidditch try-out sheet, then headed out to the Quidditch Pitch, to discuss how their new recruiting system would work.

"Well," Jack said, turning to Qing-jao and Amelia--both of which had stayed sitting with him, "that was interesting." He noticed that tears were streaming down Amelia's face, and he handed her a box of tissue that appeared out of nowhere.

"Cedric was always so nice," Amelia sniffled. "He visited a couple times when he and Cho were on holiday."

"Yes," Qing-jao said, with quite a bit more composure. "He was always very kind." She patted Amelia on the back. "Come on, it's time for our first flying lesson."

***

"Now, stick your hand over the broom and say up," Madame Hooch said to the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.

Only several immediately obeyed, including the triplets' and Jack's. But their's were some of the very few that did. Poor James O'Connor, seemed to be having a terrible time, as his broom kept smacking him repeatedly on the face and buttocks.

Jemma Arkanian--the girl with cropped brown hair, brown eyes, and freckles--was leaning on her broom and yawning, as if she were bored half to death. She nudged Jesse, who was standing next to her, and whispered something in the girl's ear, while she pointed at Jack, then Qing-jao. Jesse laughed, shaking her head at whatever Jemma said, and she almost fell over, as she was using her spindly broom for support. Jemma rolled her eyes at Jessie, then caught Jack's eyes.

All of a sudden, Jack could hear a girl's voice in his head.

Hi, Jack. Name's Jemma. Jemma Arkanian.

Jack thought back. I know your name. I saw you at sorting.

Ah, yes, the sorting. Damn hat didn't know what it was doing. Took it two minutes before it realized I'd bewitched it. Then, I told it to put me in Ravenclaw.

You told the sorting hat what to do? Isn't that a bit arrogant?

The girl gave him an exasperated look. I wasn't about to become a Slytherin or Hufflepuff, and I hate being tongue-tied. It's so embarrassing. I might lose my temper.

Why would you be tongue-tied?

Why do you think? Jemma shot him a look that clearly said, "I want you," but that might have been her voice in his head, too. He shook himself as he turned his back to Jemma and put his attention back on Qing-jao.

"Hey Qing," Jack whispered in her ear, "What do you think of that Jemma girl?" He pointed at Arkanian.

"She seems nice enough. Strange hair, though. The only people I've ever heard of wearing their hair like that are the faye-speakers, but they're really rare," she replied, matter-of-factly, but still whispering.

"What do you mean, 'faye-speaker'? And what do you mean her hair?" Jack whispered, very confused.

"Faye-speaker, Jack. They can call on fairies and pixies and stuff like that. Not to mention most of them can read minds." Jack gulped. "And what I mean about the hair is, notice how her hair's really short, almost up to her ears?" Jack nodded. "Didn't you notice the strip in front that reaches just past her chin, right by the left side of her jaw? Not to mention it's about two shades darker than the rest of her hair. Did I mention her eyes?" Qing-jao asked. The boy next to her shook his head. "Well, if you simply glance at her eyes they look brown, right? Brown's normal enough, isn't it? Well, if you look closely, the area right around the pupil changes color. Most of the time it's violet, though. Or silver. At least that's what I've noticed. Wouldn't it be amazing to have a faye-speak at school, Jack? But I bet this Jemma person is just trying to attract attention. She probably just bewitched her eyes, and had a stylist do her hair like that."

"Yeah," Jack said uneasily, "Just trying to attract attention." He looked over at Jemma who thought at him, while Madame Hooch finished correcting people's grips.

What's she saying, Jack? That I'm just an imposter? I can't hear you guys, but I can listen to your thoughts. That's always a bonus of being a faye-speaker. But being a faye-speaker has it's advantages anyway. The last guy that tried to stay away from me was attacked by some wild, Cornish-pixies in the dead of night, just lying in his bedroom. He went mad, you know. He's still in St. Mungo's. Jemma grinned evilly, and Jack wondered how the hat could've possibly put her in Ravenclaw when she was so obviously suited for Slytherin. You know, Jack. If I were you, I'd be careful what I think about from now on. It better be me, and it better be good things about me. Or rather, naughty things about me.

"Alright, on the count of three, kick off from the ground, then go forward, and come straight back down. Understood? On the whistle. One, two, three!" Madame Hooch blew her whistle, and twenty brooms shot up into the air.

"Oh, my gosh!" came a shout from Samantha Kallins, of Gryffindor. "I can't get it to go back down!" Jack thought he heard the girl swear as everyone started to go back down but her. Jack bit his lip, but then made up his mind, and shot up towards the girl.

"Climb on!" he shouted, as the wind had picked up and was whistling furiously. Sam gave him a horrified look, but as her broom climbed higher, she knew it was the only way to save herself. Jack maneuvered his broom right next to hers, and she climbed on right in front of him, as Sam's broom flew off so high that they couldn't see it anymore.

As they swooped down towards the ground, Sam turned around and looked at Jack. She glanced down then pulled her head back up, her face turning green. "Thanks, Jack. I won't forget this." And she never did.

Samantha Kallins, being muggle-born, had never ridden a broom, and when her old broom had sensed this, it had decided to take her for the ride of her life. Or rather, the ride of her death. What would've been her first and last ride, wasn't. Thanks to Jack, of course.

Samantha and Jack both blushed as they stepped off the broom and the class came rushing towards them. "Madame," Sam cried, "the broom went out of control! If Jack hadn't saved me, I'd probably be dead."

[A/N: Does that line sound familiar to anyone?]

Madame Hooch rushed towards them and pulled Sam's arm out from the folds of fabric where she was trying to hide it. "Samantha Kallins, why are you trying to hide this? You've got a broken arm! These terrible old brooms. This isn't the first time something like this has happened. Fred Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Jane Cartney, all decent fliers, but put them on these damn brooms and look at the mess you've got." She turned to Jack, still gripping the upper half of Sam's arm. "Mr. Dumbledore, you were supposed to come straight back down. Luckily, you didn't. Would you please escort Miss Kallins back to school and to the infirmary, so Poppy can fix her up?"

"Of course, Linda, I mean, Madame Hooch," Jack said, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to call his teachers by their first names when other students were present. "Come on Sam, let's go get that arm fixed, 'eh?" Sam nodded, and they headed back to school.

They walked in silence until they were inside then Sam turned towards Jack suddenly. "How do you know all the teachers first names!" she cried, confused.

"I'm not really supposed to tell--"

"Oh, can it, Dumbledore. Just tell me, before things get ugly." Sam had an exasperated look on her face, and it was starting to get a greenish tinge, and she winced from the pain in her arm.

"I've spent the last four years here, okay? I know all the teachers and Hogwarts like the back of my hand, now we really need to get you to the infirmary."

"I'll accept that, since I only want to wade so deep in your bull, Dumbledore." Sam got a dreamy look on her face. "Yes, that would be ever so nice, Jack. But you'd better explain more la--" and she crumpled to the floor.

"Crap," he murmured, picking up the girl, and carrying her in his arms the rest of the way to the infirmary.

He kicked open the door and called, "Poppy, we've got a problem here!" and plopped Samantha down on the bed nearest to the door.

Madame Pomfrey came running in from her separate office, and seeing Sam cried, "Oh, goodness, that doesn't look good. And don't call me Poppy, Jack. What if there was another student in here?"

"Sorry," he said, "but when there's an emergency, I revert to the things I know best. When Sam first broke her arm, I accidentally called Madame Hooch, Linda." He put his hands over his face, and sat down next to Sam's limp body.

"Well, it's just a hairline fracture, I won't even have to use Skele-Gro," Poppy said, after she inspected the girl. "But she'll need the rest of the day to rest, and I won't let her leave 'til tomorrow morning."

"That's good, Poppy. Oh, by the way, Hermione asked me to pick something up from you," he pulled a note out of his pocket and handed it to the nurse.

"Ah, interesting," she said, folding it, and putting it back in her pocket. "I'll be right back." Poppy vanished into the store-room and came out with a bottle of seem pale violet potion. "Put this in your bag, I already summoned it, of course, so you wouldn't be late for your next class. Make sure it goes directly to the hands of Mr. Potter, alright, Jack?" She handed him the bottle and he put it in the bag that had just flown through the door.

"Thanks, Poppy. But I've got dinner next, and I'm not too hungry. I'd like to be here when she wakes up, if that's alright."

"It's fine, Jack," she said warmly. "But when you say my name, be a bit quieter, would you?" The woman pulled out her wand, and pushed up Sam's sleeve. She put the tip of her wand to the girl's forearm, and murmured something, and Sam groaned in her unconscious state. "Ennervate," Poppy said loudly, and Sam woke up, sitting up quickly.

"Jack, I swear if you don't tell me, I'll--where are we?" Sam cried, looking around the large white room.

"The infirmary, dear," Poppy said in a kind voice, "you had a hairline fracture, but it's all fixed now."

"Oh good," Sam said smiling, "so now I can punch out Dumbledore!" she cried leaping off the bed at Jack.

"Petrificus totalus!" he cried, and she froze stiff, in which state he caught her. There was a furious expression on her face and her eyes stared intently at him, since they were the only part of her that could move. If eyes could do damage, Jack would've probably been dead.

"Now, now, dear. I don't' know what's wrong, but Mr. Dumbledore, here, is very concerned with your well being. In fact, he insisted he be here when you woke up, so you wouldn't be so frightened," Poppy said, to the girl whose eyes now focused on the nurse. "I'm going to unfreeze you, but if you try to hurt the young gentleman, I'll have to restrain you." Poppy muttered something and Sam sprung back to life.

"You really wanted to be here, just so I wouldn't get scared when I woke up?" she asked Jack, sounding confused.

"Well, obviously! Just because I can't tell you why I've been living here the past four years, doesn't mean I wasn't worried about you! I'm under strict orders! You aren't even supposed to know I've been living here four years. Actually, nobody is, but now, half our house knows," Jack said.

"Oh." Sam blinked several times. "Can we go to lunch now, Aunt Poppy?"

"Aunt Poppy?" Jack cried.

"You're not the only one with relatives working at Hogwarts. There's the Sinistra girl, her mom teaches astronomy, you, me, Professor Sprout's got a son in seventh year, Filch actually has a grand-nephew in second year--I pity the poor boy, as Filch hates all the students here, and..." she seemed to be straining her mind trying to think of anyone else, "if my memory still serves me, I do believe that Professor McGonagall's got a niece in fourth year."

Poppy nodded. "Just because we work here doesn't mean we don't have lives, Jack. Most of us have family of some sort whom are going to or already have graduated from Hogwarts."

"I never knew," said Jack, rather awestruck. "Um, Poppy, can I talk to you in private for a moment?"

"Of course, Jack, just step into my office." She led him to the door of her office and she called back, "Don't try leaving Sam, you'll get a nasty jolt when you touch the knob. You're not to leave 'til tomorrow morning." Sam pouted at this, but stayed where she was.

Opening the door to her office, Poppy closed it, and put a sound-proof/break-in-proof charm on the door. "What can I do for you, Jack?"

"Well. You see it's...does the school keep background files on students and their families?" Jack asked in a rush.

"Well, of course, but no student's ever laid eyes on them," Poppy replied. "Why do you ask, dear?"

"Well there's this girl in Ravenclaw, Jemma Arkanian, and she has all the characteristics of a faye-speaker. During flying lessons, she was talking in my head and reading my mind. I don't really think a student should be able to read people's minds. Think how much easier tests would be!"

"Well, now, that would be a problem, wouldn't it." She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "You really should go to your uncle with this, hon'. I can't do a thing about it until I get permission. Just say that Poppy wants to know if she can use 'Daerno' on a faye-speak by the name of Jemma Arkanian, alright? I think he's in his office now, so if you're not hungry, this would be a good time to ask, alright? I've got to find some pain-killing potion for Sam, her arm'll be smarting soon, if it isn't already."

Poppy undid the charm, and they found Sam lying on the bed, clutching her arm and moaning.

"I'll see you later, Poppy. Hope you feel better, Sam," Jack said, shocking them both by planting a kiss on Sam's forehead. "Gotta go see Uncle. Bye!" and he rushed out.

Sam had stopped tossing and turning when Jack clicked the door shut. She rubbed her forehead softly with the back of her hand, and then turned to her aunt. "You know," she said, "there's something strange about that boy."

"Of course there is, darling. He's nice. He's sweet. He's thoughtful. He's a gentleman. He's brotherly. Such is the curse of the Dumbledore men," Poppy replied.

"Well," Sam replied, "I'd rather call it a blessing than a curse. Wouldn't you, auntie?"

"I certainly would, dear," Poppy replied, smiling, and tousling the girls long, blonde curls. "I certainly would."

***

"Hey, Jack!" Qing-jao cried, followed by most of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws from flying class. "How's Sam? Is she gonna be okay?"

Jack saw that several of the girls were crying and nodded reassuringly. "She's fine, everybody. She's fine. It was just a hairline fracture, Madame Pomfrey mended it really fast. I bet you could go visit her, but she's probably sleeping after that peaceful draught Madame Pomfrey's giving her." Most of the girls except for Jemma and Qing-jao rushed off to the infirmary, accompanied by several boys who were infatuated with Sam.

"That was some pretty good flying," Qing-jao said, scooting towards Jack and away from Jemma. "You ever flown before?"

"Naw, Uncle always thought I'd be seen."

"Oh." Qing-jao glanced at Jemma and whispered, "Why's she following us?"

"She's probably got dinner next, too." He looked over at Jemma, who was grinning maliciously. "Got dinner next, Jemma?"

Jemma shook her head and thought at Jack. You do realize the broom didn't just go ballistic. I hexed it. I always get rid of the competition when I want something. That little blonde hussy was major competition. And next come your little Chinese friends. Her especially. She looked at Qing-jao, then smiled sweetly. "No, I've got Transfiguration. We're turning feathered needles into matches. See you later, Jack. Qing." The girl strode off and when she was out of sight, Qing-jao gave a little shiver.

"God, that girl gives me the creeps. That look she gives everybody sometimes. It's like she's reading our minds!" Qing-jao laughed and said, "But I wish she wouldn't call me Qing. She says it wrong. She makes it sound like 'king'. Not 'king' you dolt, 'Ching'!" Qing-jao's face was burning red, and she looked angry.

"Don't let her get to ye, Qing," he said, careful to pronounce her name perfectly. "She's just trying to psyche you out. But be careful, she seems a bit dangerous."

"Calling her a bit dangerous is like saying the Titanic was a bit of a disaster, don't you think?"

Jack laughed. "True. I swear, all you'd have to do to that girl is add a Quick-Quote quill, some jeweled glasses and some tacky robes and you'd have Rita Skeeter!" Jack smiled as Qing-jao giggled.

The voice in his head spoke. Be careful, Jackie. I'm always listening.

"You always know what to say to make people feel good, don't you, Jack?" she asked, putting a friendly arm around her shoulder.

"Such is the curse of the Dumbledore men," he smiled, returning the friendly gesture. And that's the way they walked, all the way to the Great Hall.

***

A scream pierced the night, and Jack sat bolt upright, and the other boys woke up, too.

"What was that!" Harvey and Kelley cried.

"I don't know," James said.

Ted continued to snore.

"It was Harry. You guys stay here. I'll go check on him," Jack said, standing up, and tiptoeing out of the room.

One kid from every dorm--it seemed--was coming to investigate. When they saw Jack go to dorm number five, they followed. Jack cracked open the door. Harry was covered in cold sweat, and his bed was surrounded by his roommates, Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Ron.

"Are you okay?" Jack heard Neville ask.

"I'm fine. It was just a dream. It was...just a dream," Harry replied.

Jack came in all the way, soon followed by the other four delegates.

"Everything alright there, Harry?" asked the Head Boy from the seventh year dorm, which Jack recognized as Pete Sanders.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You can all go back to bed. Except Jack, I need to talk to him." The students followed their orders, and Neville and Dean stepped aside so Jack could stand next to the bed.

"Jack, did Madame Pomfrey give you the potion?"

"Yeah," he replied, pulling it out of the pocket of his pajamas. "I didn't see you at dinner, and I didn't want to come in here. You know, invasion of privacy and all that crap. Anyway, there's a note that says to put a drip on your tongue, and you'll sleep without any dreams until the time that you specify when you put the drop on your tongue. Don't swallow 'til you've said the time. This should help you sleep, Harry. Poppy's the best at this stuff," Jack said, uncorking the bottle.

Harry opened his mouth, and Jack let one drop fall on the boy's tongue. Harry said, "Six thirty," and then swallowed. "Thanks Jack," he said sleepily, then he fell back on his pillow, and snored softly.

"Wow," Seamus said, "powerful stuff."

"Yeah," Jack replied, corking the bottle. "Next step up is the Draught of Living Death." He set the bottle on Harry's dresser. "Don't mess with this stuff guys. It's powerful stuff, and you don't want it to touch your skin."

Ron looked confused. "Why?"

Jack turned to the red-headed boy. "Because," he paused for effect, "if you do, you'll have a purple rash the size of Ohio." And with that, the boy was gone.

"Um..." Dean said, "where's Ohio?"

"Go to sleep, Dean," Ron said, climbing into bed.

***

A/N: Thanks for reading this, guys, I really appreciate it. In the next chapter, we'll find out more what Jemma's planning for Qing-jao, what happens to Samantha, how Ted can sleep through piercing screams, what Harry's dream was about (duh), and how liquid soap was invented. Okay, maybe not the last one, but the rest of 'em, definitely.

I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed so far, your input really helps me.

I'd like to thank my beta-reader Kimmy, who can somehow put up with my ranting and raving, and make my story better than it already is.

And I'd like to thank the FAmods, who make FA the best ff site on the whole web! We love you mods!