Chapter 117: Either!
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"I thank you for your honesty, Mr. Lerner," the headmaster says. "Professor Snape had grudgingly admitted to walking out of his classroom earlier this year and encountering a most impressive Shield Charm."
I blush at the praise, but then I shift uncomfortably. "In that case I admit to Disarming Mr. Malfoy when he and eight of his fellow Slytherins accosted me when I was alone on my way to see Professor Babbling."
"They did what?" Professor McGonagall blurts.
"It was okay, in fact that confrontation was perhaps the most successful," I say. "I told him he is smarter than his father, which made him angry enough to draw his wand on me."
"After Disarming him, encouraging him to think about the life expectancy of a certain group of people, and returning his wand, I think I got through to him that blood purity matters very little outside the political arena. I have witnessed the new and more thoughtful Mr. Malfoy myself."
The Head of Gryffindor House lets out a breath. "You returned his wand just like that?" At my nod she shakes her head in disbelief.
"Still, that was very foolish of you, Disarming Mr. Malfoy in front of his friends. I am tempted to deduct House points despite the favorable outcome."
"It might have put her in a bind if a particular few of her Housemates had discovered us, but the elder Ms. Greengrass and I were already friends at that point," I say.
"I believe I had also earned respect from Mr. Zabini and Ms. Davis by then, which may be why we are all openly friendly with each other now. All three of them were present so I did not believe I was in danger."
Dumbledore leans back in his chair. "Remarkable," he says, stroking his beard. "While I must agree with Professor McGonagall and encourage you to do what you can to avoid confrontation, I cannot argue with the results."
"Albus..." Professor McGonagall says.
"I'm sorry, Professor, I admit I could have tried to run away. I will accept any punishment you deem necessary." I hope I sound earnest enough, though the tightening of Professor McGonagall's jaw isn't a good sign.
"Based on your previous behavior, I believe this warning will suffice," she says finally.
Dumbledore smiles at that. "Good luck in your upcoming term, Mr. Lerner."
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With the term picking up and the Second Task drawing near, it wasn't long before the entire school had forgotten about the scandalous Prophet article and fallen into a comfortable rhythm.
Or, more accurately, they had completely new developments in that scandal that ran counter to the claims in the article: in particular the unusual inter-House friendships that had taken hold amongst the middle and lower years.
Normally such rumors would not get to me, but for some reason I'm feeling troubled by it.
The inexplicable discomfort leads me to pore over the book on wandless magic that Daphne had gifted to me, which discusses some variations on wand spells that are more effective when cast wandlessly.
At breakfast one day after our morning constitutional, I show a number of specific passages on that subject to Hermione.
I recall Harry's point earlier about the unusual nature of my magic, and the two of us set up various experiments to test my limits and a theory of Hermione's that she won't tell me about until we tried it.
"You know that as the test subject, it is essential that you approach the experiments with no preconceived notions on how it should turn out," she points out reasonably.
"Either that or you just want revenge by keeping secrets from me," I say with a small smile.
Making the joke seems natural to me, but I have to force the smile. I'm not entirely certain I understand why...I just know that I've been feeling increasingly unhappy.
Turning my thoughts inward, I think it might have something to do with my original plans for Daphne are changing, just as they had for Hermione.
I certainly didn't come into this with the intention of getting close to anybody, but perhaps Hermione was right, I needed somebody in place of my family and my old friends. I shake that thought off as too dark.
Hermione snorts and shakes her head at me, returning to her journal.
"You guys...uh...don't need me, right?" Harry asks.
Hermione lifts her head up and frowns. "What?"
He ducks his head as if he's in trouble. "Well, er, we were going to play some pick-up Quidditch this afternoon and Ron wanted to—"
"That sounds good, we can always just give you the highlights," I say before Hermione can scold him. She shoots me a glare, which I return with a frown.
"You can invite Luna or Neville or Daphne or Astoria if you're afraid to be alone with me, Hermione."
She blushes at that. "Th-that's not what I—"
"Have fun, Harry, I'll see you later," I say, standing up and walking over to and out the portrait hole without looking back.
"William, wait!" Hermione calls from the stairs behind me.
I don't stop, instead taking long strides down the corridor. I think I'm annoyed with her, but I realize I'm also annoyed with myself.
"Wait," she says, just as she catches up at the stairs up to the seventh floor, "I didn't mean it like that."
"I know," I say, not looking back as I climb the stairs two at a time. My long legs make this rather easy.
She grunts and runs up after me. "Then what's bothering you?"
"Nothing."
"It doesn't seem like nothing," she growls and grabs my arm. "You never shut me out like this, William, what's wrong?"
Just before we reach another flight of stairs, she spins me around but I look away. "I don't know, okay?" That came out harsher than I intended, causing her to flinch. I rub my hand through my hand and let out a deep breath.
"I'm sorry, I'm just feeling...frustrated for some reason. I guess maybe I'm just anxious to figure out what I can do. Maybe it'll help me figure out what exactly I am."
Maybe that's a part of it, I guess, now that I've said it, but I still feel like I'm just grasping at straws for an explanation.
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