Year Two - Chapter Fourteen

Was it the darkness that made things scary, or was it the knowledge of what lurked in the dark that did it? Would a child born in darkness fear it, or would he come to embrace it? The unknown terrifies, the known scares, but that which we know how to fight cannot scare us at all. The month of November saw the cold descend like a frosty blanket over the windows and the courtyard, the Herbology classrooms held outside became dangerous traps of warm sweating, until the biting cold trapped us on the way back.

I sneezed.

My eyes fluttered to the ceiling of my room, and I sneezed a bit more.

Dragging my sorrowful body to the infirmary was out of the question, thus I remained exactly where I was, lamenting my sad state in the back of my mind. I sought no comfort from the cup of coffee by my side. I wasn't hungry, just miserable. My fill of pain and mucus was had, and if only I knew a recipe to prevent this terrifying thing known as common cold, then I would brew and drink the result, regardless of the ingredients used.

November, you damn month of ice and frost, why do you belittle me so? Do you not understand that I am a creature of the Mediterranean? Do you not comprehend that temperatures are meant to stay mild and lukewarm, and never to rise or drop sharply to unspoken degrees? My sea, where are you? My beautiful, salty sea, where are you?

"Mister Umbrus," I heard the angelic voice of Madam Pomfrey, "You look sick."

"Ungh grumf," I grumbled back, eyes half-closed.

"Bottoms' up," she said, and something glass-like ended up in my mouth before a pungent, spicy liquid burned down my tongue, my throat and my everything. When they say you have to sweat your sickness out, the wizards took it literally. First came the steam, then came the sweat, and finally as I lay in a puddle, I dimly realized the fever had utterly disappeared together with my sickness.

I stood up, and stared at Madam Pomfrey with a look akin to wonder. "You're an angel, Madam," I whispered.

"And you're a hassle, Mister Umbrus," Madam Pomfrey replied with a stern smirk, if such a thing was even possible. "Go freshen up and then head to class. I'll write you a permission slip to excuse your lateness."

With that being said, I now had to reach the Potions' classroom. Professor Snape would probably take points away from Ravenclaw for my lateness, regardless of me showing the permission slip or not. Thus, permission slip in hand, I began to walk my way down to the Potions' classroom. I furrowed my brows as I looked at the slip. The penmanship was remarkable, but so too was the signature. Perhaps if I could forge it, I could get some free time off History of Magic and its useless drivel.

My right foot touched something wet, and I froze. Glancing down from the slip, I realized it was a puddle of water.

My breathing hitched as I closed my eyes sharply. I was on the second floor. I was headed for the potions' classroom and I was on the second floor. I clutched the permission slip tightly and took a step, and then another. My right hand touched the wall as I kept on moving straightforwardly, squeezing the slip in my other hand as if it were a lifeline.

It was going to be all right. Moaning Myrtle might have made the bathroom explode again. It didn't really need to be the Basilisk having come out to play. For all that the school knew, I was a half-blood.

"Hey, where are you going with your eyes closed?" a female voice asked me, a squeaky, first-year female voice. My thoughts immediately ran to Ginny Weasley being possessed by Tom Riddle, and thus I gave the first year a smile in the direction of the noise.

"Stupid Weasley twins and their pranking," I said with a sigh. "Glued my eyes shut and left me in a cupboard."

The girl gasped ever so slightly, "I'm sorry to hear that," she said. "Those two never learn." A small hand grabbed hold of my left. "I'll bring you to the infirmary." The hand was small, and wet. I had a bad feeling. I had a really bad feeling.

My bad feeling intensified as I dimly came to the conclusion that there was something, every now and then, creaking in the pipes alongside the wall.

Was this how the lamb felt when he was brought to the butcher's table?

"Yeah," I said dryly, "To think they come from a pureblood family," I continued, and I felt the fingers of the girl's hand tense in my grip. "They're really a waste."

"Is that so?" the girl said. "I didn't peg a Ravenclaw for believing in Blood purity," she continued.

"I believe that some people are inherently better than others," I grumbled. "If that's from their pedigree, their blood or their inherent skill and abilities...then clearly, it must be because their ancestors were great wizards and witches too. Look at me, I'm an orphan, but my father came from a proud family of Purebloods and I'm worth ten times a Weasley-"

The hand tensed a bit more. Hook. Line. Sinker. Survival.

"Oh, I took the wrong turn," she said. The direction we went for changed, and soon I found myself brought to sit on an infirmary bed. "Now I need to run or I'll be late for my lessons," she continued, "Have a nice day."

"You too," I said, "And thanks."

For not having given me to the Basilisk to petrify.

She walked away, and I waited, patiently, until I felt reasonably safe into cracking an eye open. The Infirmary lacked Madam Pomfrey, probably gone somewhere else. Only I stood there, my hands trembling.

The door of the infirmary opened, and Madam Pomfrey came in once more, only to widen her eyes at my sight. "Mister Umbrus!" she exclaimed, her eyes looking over me, "You're deathly pale-maybe it wasn't just a common flu?" she continued, coming near to let her hand touch my forehead. "You're freezing."

"Aye," I hissed out. "As if I touched death itself," I trembled out.

"Well, not quite like that, but yes, now lay down lad. Stay down and breathe," she instructed me, and I obeyed.

Kill the Weasley. Save the School. No, I can't kill a little possessed girl.

Kill the Basilisk. Save the School. The kill-on-sight needs a counter.

Get the Phoenix to rip the Basilisk's eyes out and then save the school.

We are going to do that, and we are going to do it on the double.