The One Who You Fear

Chapter 4: Detention, Dreams, and Disputes

Jack decided a rest by the common room's fireplace would do him good. Hermione was already there, and as he came in she looked up and closed her book. "Hey Jack. Why'd you set off Umbridge like that?"

"It is not my fault. I do not have a book. If she had listened to Dumbledore--"

"She's not going to listen to Dumbledore. She's one of those who believes that his judgment is going south in his old age."

"That is not an honorable judgment of her elders."

"Well, Umbridge doesn't strike many people as being particularly honorable. Here, you can borrow my book. I finished a long time ago, and she knows it. I usually spend my time working on Arithmancy homework and thinking about . . . other things."

"Thank you Hair, uh that is Herme--no . . . "

Hermione smiled. "You're trying. I appreciate that. Now you're beginning to sound like Viktor."

"Who is Viktor?"

"Viktor Krum. He's a friend of mine I met last year. He's Bulgarian. He called me Herm-own-ninny. You look like him a little bit."

Jack smiled. He rose to go to the dorm room, but Hermione stopped him again. "Wait a minute, Jack. Come here." Jack turned around. "No, come closer. I have to tell you something secret." He walked up to her chair, and she pulled him down and whispered in his ear. "If you don't like Defense Against the Dark Arts, a few of us have . . . an alternative. We're teaching ourselves things we should be learning in there. I can't say much more, but I think you would like to join us."

Jack paused and shook his head. "No thank you."

"Are you sure? I think you could be an asset to what we're learning."

"I know enough about defense."

"Well, all right, but if you ever change your mind . . . Goodnight."

*****************

Jack had another new class the next day. Jack found the classroom a little bit more easily. Once again, he sat in the back. A few minutes later, a young, pudgy boy sat by him.

"I don't believe I've seen you here before. My name's Ernie McMillan, Hufflepuff prefect."

Jack shook his hand. "I am Jack.

"Hey. There's an old chap in my village named Jack. He's a nice bloke. Too bad he's a Muggle."

"Too bad?"

Ernie looked like he was going to answer, but then he flashed a dissatisfied look over Jack's shoulder. "Hannah, what are you looking at?"

Jack turned to see a girl with blond pigtails at his other side. She looked away and blushed. "Sorry," she said with a giggle. "I just saw you in the Great Hall this morning, and . . ."

Ernie just shook his head.

"Good morning class!" a voice announced. The teacher, Professor Adams, had entered the room carrying a long, brown package. Professor Adams took the roll. This time when Jack heard "Samson," he replied. Then the teacher opened the package.

"I have here something very special on loan from the Magical Artifacts Museum in London. All of you will have a turn to touch it, but be careful." The professor revealed the content of the package. "This is the magic sword Excaliber."

"Oooooooh," all the students marveled at once. Jack was excited. He had heard much of this sword. The students each took a turn holding the sword. Jack examined it carefully. It was a beautiful weapon, but he preferred his own sword.

After the students settled down, Professor Adams held up the sword. "Now, I will show you something that Muggles don't know." The teacher waved a wand, and the sword transformed into a stick. The wizards gasped. "That's right. Excaliber is really a transfigured wand. Nimue and Merlin made it together. Supposedly, though, it did not have a strong core. Some say the core was a mermaid's hair, but the magic isn't very strong. It had to be constantly lubricated with liquid pearl. That's why Merlin told Arthur that the power of the sword was in its scabbard, which contained the lubricant."

Professor Adams proceeded to explain more about the Muggle interpretation of the Arthur myth and how it conflicted with the truth. The teacher allowed five minutes for questions, and Jack was the first to ask one.

"Why is Excaliber a wand?"

"Oh, that's a secret that even most wizards don't know. Nearly every enchanted sword or magic weapon is a wand at its base."

This inspired a lot of mumbling. "Is it responsible for the magic in the weapon?"

"Partly. The main purpose of the wand is to keep the charms upon the wand in tact. Usually the charms are for invincibility or everlasting protection. However, when a magic weapon encounters wand magic, it starts behaving like a wand. Often, it can drive a Muggle insane and drain his energy. That is part of the reason why we don't make enchanted weaponry for Muggles any longer."

Jack didn't like to hear that at all. He was about to comment when the bell rang. "Please make sure to read Chapter 12 for next time on Norse mythology," Professor Adams announced. "Hopefully I will bring Notung for you to see next time, or if we're even luckier than that I'll bring the Tarnhelm."

"Ernie, may I please borrow your book?" Jack asked.

"Oh no. I can't miss that chapter. I love Norse mythology," Ernie replied.

"I bet it's available in the library," Hannah suggested. "You're in Gryffindor. You can ask Hermione about it."

"I will. Thank you."

As time for detention was getting nearer, Jack tried to get Professor Umbridge off of his mind by visiting the library trying to find that book. It took him half an hour to find the library, and once he got there his search was even more fruitless. He found several books on Norse mythology, but there were too many to read in one hour. Besides, he really wanted that particular book. He wanted to read it from cover to cover to see if he could understand more of this isolation.

Jack came to Umbridge's office that evening. "Good evening," she greeted.

Jack answered by bowing to the ground before Umbridge. "Most honorable Sensei, I have dishonored you by my foolishness. I beg your forgive--"

"I am not the Queen of England, Mr. Samson. Stand up." She flicked her wand and forced him to stand. "Your groveling won't get you out of your punishment."

"Of course. I will take whatever punishment you feel is necessary, Sensei."

"Stop calling me that! I am Professor Umbridge!"

"I only wish to give you a title of honor. Do you not have respect for my culture?"

"I believe it is my culture, not yours, that matters, Mr. Samson."

Jack was speechless. That was the most horrible thing he had ever heard.

"Have a seat." Professor Umbridge directed to a small table with a scroll of black parchment set out for him. "I want you to do some lines for me."

"Lines?"

"Yes, you are to write 'I must obey Professor Umbridge.' You will use one of my quills. Here you are."

She handed him a black quill with a sharp point. Jack stared at it for a few moments. How did it work? Perhaps it was like the metal wand that clicked called a "pen." Jack pushed the top, but nothing clicked, and no ink came out. Maybe it was meant to be used as a brush. Jack searched his robe for an inkpot, but he didn't have one.

"Excuse me," he asked. "How does this quill work?"

"Just start writing, and you shall see," Umbridge replied.

"But how can it write without ink?"

Umbridge grinned maliciously. "You won't need ink, Mr. Samson."

Jack had no choice but to take her at her word. He carefully began writing the sentence she requested, but then he screamed. The words appeared on the parchment in what he thought was red ink, but somehow they were also carved onto the back of his hand. "What sor--uh, manner of punishment is this?" He finished writing the sentence somehow and handed Umbridge the paper.

"Oh no, Mr. Samson, you have just begun. Give it enough time to sink in."

Jack understood. He noticed that the sentence on his hand had disappeared. When he wrote the line again, it was cut back into his hand, and then somehow it healed again. He wrote the phrase about twenty more times, then he had an idea. He wrote down the page instead of across. It was much more painful, but it was worth it. He wrote a bit more sloppily than he knew he should. He was determined to write the next line before the cut had healed. Jack's eye twitched, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. He started to feel lightheaded as he realized that the red ink was actually his blood.

It must have been nearly midnight when she asked him to stop. "I must say, Mr. Samson, I applaud your ardor. You seem very convicted. Now, let me see your hand. Yes, much deeper than most get in the first night. Well do--wait a minute!"

She looked closer at his arm. The message went done the back of his hand to just past his wrist. It did not read "I must obey Professor Umbridge." In fact, it could not be read.

"What is this? You think my punishment is to give you a free tattoo?"

Jack replied quietly, "You evidently want me to have a reminder. It would be easier to remember the lesson in my own tongue."

Umbridge continued to run her finger down the message. She looked into his eyes and quivered her lip as if she was about to say something. Finally, she just said, "You may go."

Jack bowed to her and took his leave. His arm still stung, but it did not bother him. He did not write, "I must obey Professor Umbridge" at all. At the beginning and end of his sentence he painted his family crest, and in between he wrote in Japanese the one proverb he had forgot in his essay, the bit that seemed to be the most relevant at the time, "Show your enemy no pain."

He started heading for the Gryffindor common room when suddenly he heard a noise. Somebody was moving about. He nearly disregarded it. He had heard about the caretaker from other Gryffindors. Yet he was heading for the stairs, he saw it wasn't Filch or any of the teachers.

It was that tired boy Harry and Ron called Malfoy. The two large boys that usually were by his side were gone. Malfoy was completely alone. He was still in his pajamas and slippers. His hair was messy. He was walking in a strange stride. His knees were completely straight, and his steps were on a perfectly even beat. Malfoy's face was emotionless. His eyes were open, but he was clearly not awake. The eyes had a transfixed expression Jack recognized--the same, glazed-over, vacant expression of the teenagers hypnotized by Aku's music. There was no music here, though.

"Malfoy!" Jack whispered loudly, but the boy did not turn, did not even blink. Jack followed him to see where he was going and to try to break him out of the trance. Draco went up one staircase, and the second he got off it began to move. Jack had to "jump good" to get to the next staircase up. Draco flinched when he felt a large "thud" on the staircase, but then he moved on. As soon as he got off that staircase, it moved. Jack "jumped good" again, and followed him down a hall. Jack tried to be more careful from that point on. It was clear to him that he was being watched. He hid in the shadows as much as he could.

Unfortunately, Jack lost Draco on the seventh floor. He looked down a couple more corridors and staircases, but Draco was nowhere to be seen. Jack gave up and returned to the common room.

The portrait was snoozing. "Uh, dragon wings?" Jack said quietly.

The fat lady jerked awake. "I beg your pardon, what are you doing out of bed at this hour?"

"Detention." Jack showed her his arm.

"Oh, poor dear! Umbridge, isn't it? I have heard that essence of murtlap helps it heal."

"I do not want it to heal. Dragonfly--uh, dragon wings."

"Very well dear." She opened the portrait.

Jack went to his dorm room. He thought about what Draco was doing until he went to sleep. He had a strange dream. He was walking through a heavy fog. It was so thick he could not see his hand in front of his face. Everything was silent, but Jack knew there was someone here.

"Out of the mist, a stranger comes!" the sibyl announced from out of nowhere. Jack looked, but he could not see her.

Then, out of the mist, high up in the sky, Jack saw an enormous, black hand, outstretched and beckoning. "Aku!" Jack cried. He jumped. He "jumped good." He jumped harder and higher than he ever did in his entire life. He still could not reach the hand, nor could he see any other part of its body

Then, in the sky, Jack saw Harry flying on a lightning bolt carried by a northwestern wind directly toward the hand. "Harry, no!" Jack screamed to him. "Do not go to him! He killed your parents, and he will destroy you!"

Harry looked down at Jack in contempt. "Don't tell me what to do, Samson!" In defiance, he landed upon the palm.

The long, black fingers began to curl slowly, but then, in one sharp motion they closed around Harry in a fist. "Harry!" Jack screamed.

Harry began to cry out in pain and yelled, "Help! Help!"

Then Jack awoke and realized Harry was screaming in real life, "Help! Undertaker! Undertaker! Help!" Jack felt cold, but not an ordinary cold. It was a sensation that told him evil was near, and he feared it was attacking Harry.

Jack ripped his curtains open, drew his sword, and opened the curtains on Harry's bed. "Harry!"

Harry was tossing about with his hand pressed against his forehead. When he heard Jack's voice, he stopped tossing and blinked open his eyes. "Samson?"

Jack hid his sword behind the curtains once he saw no visible danger. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I just had a nightmare is all."

"As did I."

"It's nothing. I've been having a recurring nightmare at least once a week, but the good thing is it gets better. All the rest of the guys are used to it, see? They don't wake me up in the middle of the night."

"There is a strong evil presence here, Harry. Can you not feel it?"

Harry looked at Jack as though he had lost his mind. "Go back to sleep, Samson."

Jack sighed. As he shut the curtains on Harry's bed, he warned the boy, "Be careful."

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, and when he was certain that things were safe, Jack was able to go back to sleep. Harry, however, grumpily informed him at breakfast the next morning, "I could not go back to sleep last night."

"I apologize," Jack muttered. He couldn't bring himself to say it, but somehow he felt like Harry had to wake.

"Oh my goodness," Hermione cried when she saw Jack's arm. "What has she done to you? I'll get some bandages."

"No," Jack said. "I want to see it. I want to remember."

"You actually want to see it?" Harry asked. "You're rather thick if you let Umbridge's detention get to you that way."

"I used a bad situation to my advantage, Harry. I showed her my true strength."

"It won't do much good," Ron said shaking his head. "She often ignores such defiance."

"So what does it say?" Hermione said.

"That is between Professor Umbridge" (Jack looked as though it took a great deal of effort to say that) "and me."

Hermione grabbed his arm, pulled out her wand, and whispered something. A light appeared from her wand and changed the Japanese characters to English. She smiled and looked as though she was going to comment, but Jack put his finger to his lips. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

"Where'd you learn a translation spell?" Ron asked.

"International Curses and Countercurses. It has a whole chapter about difficult translation spells few wizards know."

Ron rolled his eyes. Then he spotted Malfoy snoozing at the Slytherin table again. He pointed it out to Harry, and they were once again in giggles.

"Wait," Jack said. "Before you judge, I have something to tell you. Last night, as I was coming back from detention, I saw Malfoy. He was roaming the halls."

"And your point is?" Harry scoffed.

"Draco's a prefect," Ron explained. "That's part of his job."

"He was under a trance!" Jack added.

"Oh. Well, that's different."

"So that's why!" Hermione said. "Wonder what's going on? Maybe the Imperious Curse."

"No, it can't be that," Harry answered. "Nobody can tell when someone's under that."

"Well, I saw when you were under it last year. You looked trance-like around the beginning. I reckon a poorly done Imperious Curse would cause a trance and sleep deprivation. But who's doing it?"

"Who cares?" Ron said.

"Ron, this could be serious! Who knows what the source is planning?"

"Should we try to talk to him?" Jack asked.

"We can try," Ron answered. "It probably won't do much good. If it is the Imperious Curse, he won't remember much."

The trio got up to leave, but Jack managed to catch Hermione. "Do you also know if you can find Magic in Mortal Literature in the library?"

"Don't you mean Magic in Muggle Literature? It's not in the library, but I tell you what. Last time I was at Diagon Alley I had a little extra money, and I bought that book. I finished reading it, so you can borrow it." She pulled it out of her bag. "What chapter are you discussing?"

"Chapter 12."

"Oh, the Norse myths! That chapter's brilliant. It has samples of the operas by the Muggle composer Wagner."

Hermione opened the book and touched something on the page. Immediately rousing music played on unseen trumpets. "Uh, that's 'The Ride of the Valkarie.'" Hermione chuckled uncomfortably, shut the book, and handed it to Jack. "Enjoy."

"Thank you," Jack said bowing to her.

***************

It was the weekend, and Jack decided to explore the other floors of the castle, just so he could get his bearings a little better. On the second floor, he heard someone sobbing. He was concerned, so he followed the sound, into a girl's lavatory.

"Hello? What is wrong?"

A stall door opened, and out floated a ghost. "Ooh!" she squealed.

Jack gasped and held his hands out in defense. "Be gone, spirit!"

The ghost hung her head. "Oh. You do not like me?"

"If you intend to drag me down and share your fate, no I am not fond of you."

"Oh. Well, I am not intending to do that." She floated closer to him. "My name is Myrtle. What about you?"

"I am Jack. Were you the one who was crying?"

Myrtle began to pout. "Yes. Peeves was mean to me."

"Who is Peeves?"

Myrtle described him, and Jack realized he had heard horror stories in the common room about that mischievous spirit. "I will take care of him for you."

"You will! Oh, that would be . . . but how could you?"

"Shh!" Jack said suddenly. He heard voices singing rather loudly and badly outside. He carefully walked out. It was that song about the weasel king again. At the other end of the hall, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were cornered by the tired boy, Malfoy, and his two, gigantic henchmen, who were singing that song at the top of their lungs. Ron looked furious, and the four of them were gripping their wands.

"Stop it!" Hermione shouted.

"Well, what are you going to do about it, Weasley?" the tired boy asked.

"I tell you what, Malfoy, I want to see what you do about it."

"You asked for it. Loco- (yawn) -motor Mortis!" His wand merely glowed and set off a few sparks. The Gryffindors laughed.

"Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead," Ron gasped.

"Give it up, Malfoy," Harry said. "As long as your tired like that, you're not going to be able to do magic. Isn't that right, Hermione?"

"Yes. Your brain is not clear enough to focus. You can sing 'Weasley is Our King' as much as you want, but you're never going to do the Leg Locker curse on any of us!"

"How exactly did you come up with those lyrics, Malfoy?" Ron asked. "Did they come to you in a dream?" The Gryffindors burst out in laughter.

"Go ahead," Malfoy sneered. "Laugh, all of you. You won't be laughing so hard this time next year when you're still in this stupid school, while I'm in the new Ministry of Magic earning 500 galleons an hour!"

"What's that, a new dream your father put in your head for following You-Know-Who?" Ron asked.

"My father. Ha! My father will be licking my boots. He's wrong. The Dark Lord is not the ultimate. There's a new order coming, and it will be here before you know it!"

The Gryffindors just shook their heads and walked on. Evidently, they had forgotten, but Jack did not. He advanced on the Slytherins. "Excuse me, Malfoy," he said quietly.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Malfoy smirked. "It's Thestral Boy!"

"I could not help overhearing. Could you please explain to me more of what you mean?"

"Why should I?"

"I need to know."

"Why? You want part?"

"Perhaps I do."

"Too bad. He will certainly not be interested in any Gryffindors. Besides, he's already chosen me, and nobody's getting in on it!"

Jack lowered his voice. "Listen to me. I saw you last night, in the corridors. What were you doing?"

"Look at this." Malfoy pointed to his badge. "Do you see this? It means I'm a Prefect. I'm allowed to walk the corridors at night."

"Are you normally under a trance?"

Malfoy looked very uncomfortable. Jack looked him in the eyes. "Tell me, Malfoy. Who did it? Is it Undertaker? Is it the Dark Lord?"

Malfoy only smiled. "I've heard about you. You are the Banished One, the Exiled One. Don't have a lot of sense left up there, eh?"

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"What's that under your robes? Pajamas? And Weasley called me a sleepyhead!" The two henchmen laughed.

"Lives are at stake, Malfoy! Answer my question!" They laughed harder.

"Look, I hope you don't fall asleep in your pajamas before me, Samson, or you might end up like your namesake--bald."

Enraged, Jack came at Malfoy, but the two large boys blocked him. Jack quickly threw them out of the way. He meant to press Malfoy back against the wall and order the boy to tell him the truth, but Malfoy, wild-eyed and afraid, yelled a spell at him. He didn't aim well, but it still knocked Jack off his feet. By the time he came to his senses, Malfoy and the two large boys were gone.

*************

Days and weeks went by swiftly. Umbridge seemed pleased that Jack started bringing Hermione's book to class ("Looks like you decided to join us, Mr. Samson. Good for you!"). Jack was enjoying most of his other classes. He decided he liked Care of Magical Creatures the most. For one thing, he was learning how to deal with a dangerous creature should he ever encounter it. For another thing, Hagrid still reminded him a lot of his Scottish friend. Muggle Studies remained enlightening, yet puzzling. Jack read Hermione's book, but mainly it had more additional features than it did answers. Ernie and Hannah proved to be good helpers. Divination was more interesting now that Jack had that unusual dream on his mind, but he didn't feel any closer to learning its meaning. As for Potions, well, Snape was still Snape.

Before long, it was mid-December, and decorations of all sorts filled the castle. "What exactly are these for again?" Jack asked one morning.

"Christmas, of course!" Ron answered.

"And what is that?"

Ron looked taken aback for a moment then relaxed. "It's a holiday," Hermione answered.

"I thought the One Who You Fear abolished all holidays."

"Well, we can all be glad he's not that drastic," Harry muttered.

"Anyhow, it's such a big holiday that the school's going to close in a few days," Hermione added. "My parents are going to take me skiing."

"What is that?" Jack asked.

"Um, Muggles put narrow strips of wood on their feet and slide down snow tops on mountains. It's loads of fun."

Ron laughed hard. "Sounds stupid to me. Well, I'm going to see my family too."

Harry rolled his eyes. "How is it you get to go home?"

"Oh, but you're coming too! Didn't I say? Mum wrote and told me to invite you weeks ago!"

Harry's face brightened. "Well, that's great! I'd love to come!"

Ron turned to Jack. "Hey, Jack, would you like to come too? I'm sure Mum would love to have you once I let her know about you." Harry's pleased expression disappeared all at once.

Jack did not know what to say. Dumbledore wanted him to protect the castle, but with it shut down would there be any point? "I will think about it."

He decided to take a walk outside to think about Ron's offer. He took the book from Muggle Studies to read as well, once he reached a decision. He found what he thought was an amphitheater. It was a quiet place, for about twenty minutes. Then people came into the theater.

"Alright, your hour starts now," a woman said, then blew her whistle. "Wait a minute. You there!"

Jack looked down to see a woman with short, gray hair yelling at him. "Yes, madam?"

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"It's alright, Madam Hooch," Ron said. "He's with us. He's ok."

"Alright, but stay out of the way!" Madam Hooch demanded.

"Hey!" a girl called out to him. "By any chance, are you here for tryouts?"

"No."

"Well, ok," she replied in a disappointed tone.

Jack knew he couldn't adequately concentrate with all the commotion going on, so he opened his book and started reading. Occasionally, he looked up to see what was going on, but he couldn't really tell.

The tryouts weren't doing too well. The team settled on Ginny Weasley as the new Seeker, but none of the Beaters were very talented. "We're never going to find a replacement for Fred and George!" Alicia Spinnet whined

As she was speaking, the Bludger that Jack Sloper had just knocked askew was heading right for Samurai Jack. It was coming up from behind. Quick as lightning, Jack jumped up, turned around, unsheathed his sword, and knocked the Bludger out of the way. He completely forgot that there was a book in his lap. It fell out, opened to chapter 12, and started play "The Ride of the Valkarie." Jack turned furiously around, looking for other attackers. When he didn't see any, he sheathed his sword and sat down. He slammed shut the book in the middle of a note, then opened it again to his spot.

Meanwhile, the whole Gryffindor Quidditch team was watching him in wonder.

"I think we just did," Angelina said.