Evening the Odds: Chapter 16

A/N: These are the scenes that were going to be in the last chapter. I ended up separating them and expanding them, making it into a full chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 16

Squib

“There’s something very wrong with this…” Hermione said.

Her wand was pointed at the necklace where I left it, thrown in the corner of the bathroom. I didn’t see her use any spells. Hermione frowned, stepping back from the jewelry.

“It’s dark. I just know it,” she said.

Harry and I were kneeling next to Rosmerta. Ron had already left, running to find a professor or an Auror, whichever he ran into first. It turns out, Imperio was bad. Not just bad, but one of the three worst spells out there, so bad that wizards called them Unforgivables. The spell made anyone into your slave. Someone had used it on Rosmerta, then made her turn around and use it on me. Luckily, they picked a bad target.

“The curse didn’t work on you?” Harry asked.

“I knew I didn’t want to be controlled,” I said. “When I tried to resist, the feeling disappeared. Maybe she cast it wrong.”

“No, I’m sure she did it right,” Harry said. “Some people can throw the curse off. It doesn’t work on me. Strong willpower is the best defense… Maybe the only defense.”

I heard footsteps outside the door. It was thrown open, hitting the wall. Ron was back. He’d brought Tonks.

“Merlin, this is the second biggest mess I’ve seen in a bathroom this week,” Tonks said. “Ron told me a bit of it. Someone used an Unforgivable?”

I shared the whole story. It was the second time I went over it and I was already getting sick of repeating myself. I’d probably have to tell it two more times at least, too, once the professors started arriving. Maybe it would’ve been easier to let the curse work and deliver the package.

Tonks stroked her chin. She’d sent a translucent jackrabbit through the wall that she called a Patronus. It was a messenger, meaning professors would be on their way.

“So she wanted you to deliver the amulet,” Tonks said. “Are you sure you weren’t supposed to give it to Harry?”

“She said Dumbledore,” I said. “Besides, why would she tell me to go to Hogwarts if it was for Harry? She’d just hand it to him. He was right here.”

“True.” Tonks paled. “It’s a good thing she wasn’t after him. She could’ve slipped it around his neck from behind in a second…” 

Hermione made a strangled noise. “Do you think the amulet is dangerous?”

“I don’t recognize it. But it has to be,” Tonks said. “No one using Unforgivables would want anything nice for Dumbledore. They had to be trying to get him.”

Harry wandered to the corner. Hermione pulled his hand when she thought he was getting too close, like a mom trying to keep her kid away from a cliff. Harry squinted at the evil jewelry. A second later, he spun back to the rest of us. 

“I recognize this! I saw it! This was in Borgin and Burkes!”

“And why were you in Borgin and Burkes, hm?” Tonks asked.

“Investigating,” Harry said. “Ron, Hermione, Malfoy would have seen it. He was right there, there’s no way that he wouldn’t have!”

But Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

“I dunno, mate,” Ron said. “Borgin and Burkes is dark wizard central. I reckon plenty of ‘em saw it, not just Malfoy.”

“But Malfoy’s here. He’s at Hogwarts!”

“This is Hogsmeade. You don’t have to be a student to visit,” Hermione said. “There are lots of people with grudges against Dumbledore. Any Death Eater could have done it.” She went on when she saw Harry’s face. “We’ll keep it in mind, Harry, but I don’t think you should jump to conclusions. I’m just saying that there are more options.”

“This isn’t because I’ve got a grudge against him. He’s up to something!” Harry said.

“Hasn't Malfoy been pretty quiet?” Ron asked. 

“That’s how you know he’s working on something big!”

“For now, let’s get the four of you back to Hogwarts,” Tonks said. “The big old Aurors like myself can earn our Galleons. Don’t worry about Rosmerta, either. We’ll get her to St. Mungo’s. They’ve got a special ward for people in her position.”

Tonks ushered us out. Leaving the Three Broomsticks, we passed two men in the same red robes as Tonks going in. McGonagall and Sprout met us on the path out of Hogsmeade.

“Tonks’s message reached us,” McGonagall said. “What happened?”

I knew I was going to have to explain it again.

Sprout gasped when I mentioned the Unforgivable. By the end, McGonagall had pursed her lips into a line that matched the wrinkles on her forehead. “Describe this amulet,” she said.

“A gold chain with a bunch of expensive-looking blue gems,” I said.

“Opals,” Hermione clarified. “I’m sure that they were black opals!”

McGonagall was already walking. “You did very well not to touch it. The Aurors have it in the possession now, yes? Good… Good. To think such a thing was near students!”

“You know what it is,” I said.

“Yes, I’ve heard of it.” McGonagall didn’t explain what she knew, except to say, “It’s a cursed item. Highly dangerous.”

So dangerous that she didn’t completely trust Aurors around it, apparently, because she booked it to Hogsmeade. Professor Sprout lingered.

“There may be questions for you four later.” Her voice was gentle. “For now, go back to school and rest. I’m sure this has been a long day for you.”

I was used to much worse, but we thanked the Professor and she followed McGonagall toward the scene of the crime.

“I didn’t get the chance to tell her about Malfoy!” Harry said. 

“There isn’t much to say.” Hermione spoke slowly, knowing what reaction she was likely to get. “He would’ve seen the amulet. Isn’t that it? Plenty of wizards shop at Borgin and Burkes. I didn’t even see Malfoy come to Hogsmeade today.”

“He wouldn’t have had to,” Harry said. “Rosmerta was under the Imperius. He could’ve done that ahead of time and forced her to do the rest.”

“This is Malfoy though, right? Can he even cast an Unforgivable?” Ron asked. “It didn’t work for you when you tried.”

“You tried?” I asked.

“I was having a bad day,” Harry muttered.

I didn’t think too much about it. I’d done extreme things when I was in rough spots too.

“I failed because I didn’t have the right intent,” Harry said. “I was angry, but righteous anger wasn’t good enough. For the Killing Curse, you have to want to murder. For the Cruciatus, you have to want to torture. For the Imperius, you just need to want control. Why wouldn’t Malfoy be able to do it? He’s always controlling everyone around him. Crabbe and Goyle are practically his slaves already!”

“Maybe it’s possible. But do you think that it’s likely?” Hermione asked.

“Yes!”

Hermione sighed.

Harry moved up the path, pulling a little bit ahead of us as he stomped at a faster pace. Luckily the sleet had stopped, so instead of cold and wet we were just cold. Harry jammed his hands deep into his pockets.

“Since when are you two such Malfoy fans?” he grumbled.

“I hate him as much as the next bloke!” Ron said. “It’s just, you don’t have the best track record with this kind of thing…”

“Snape and the Philosopher’s Stone, Draco and the Chamber of Secrets,” Hermione listed.

“You both thought those things too!”

“Yeah. I’m trying not to jump to conclusions so fast,” Ron said.

Harry didn’t have a retort, but he hadn’t been convinced, so he looked away and kept walking. The trip to Hogsmeade had been gloomy. The walk back managed to be worse. Since I had so much time to think, I ended up on the topic of our next meeting with Dumbledore. 

The point was to teach Harry everything there was to learn about his enemy. Where Voldemort was born, who his parents were, all of it. I remembered Hecate’s orphanage visit and what Dumbledore said, specifically about hoping Harry would be ready for a full explanation soon, gods and all.

The road to Hogsmeade ran along one shore of the Great Lake. I sped up, walking next to Harry, and turned around, backpedaling so that I could see all of their faces. “Let’s take a detour.”

Ron looked at me like I’d stolen his lunch. “In this weather?”

“It’ll be quick. Ish. I promise.”

“Where to?” Harry asked.

I pointed at the lake. “I’ve got something to show you.”

The reason I kept what I was a secret had less to do with hiding it than not knowing if they would believe me. The night I first found out, I saw my best friend with wooly goat legs and I still had to collide with a cow-man before it started feeling real.

I didn’t have any minotaurs on-hand and Grover’s cloven feet were on the other side of an ocean. I had to improvise if I wanted them to take me seriously.

As we walked toward the water, I changed the topic, trying to sound casual. “What do you know about the Greek Gods?”

“They’re one of the most famous pantheons.” Hermione sounded like she was reading from a book. “Early accounts date back to the Bronze Age. They were adapted into the Roman Pantheon after the fall of Greece.”

“I always thought Hercules sounded cool,” Ron said.

“He’s kind of a prick, actually.”

The three of them looked at me. I’d spoken without even thinking about it. So much for going the slow route. 

“What I’m trying to say is that it’s real. Hercules, Zeus, all of it. The Greek Gods existed and they’re still out there.”

There was a beat of silence. 

“We’re standing in the cold for this?” Ron asked. “I get enough pranks from the twins, Percy—”

“You mean it.” Harry was looking at me closely. I don’t know if it’s because he knew me better than the other two, or if he just had a more open mind. He wasn’t dismissing it. “You really believe this.”

“Of course I believe it. It’s part of my life. See, the gods still interact with mortals. Because of what they’re like, they have a lot of kids. I’m one of those,” I said. “I’m a demigod.”

“You mean to tell us that one of your parents is a Greek god?” Hermione asked. “Like Zeus, or Apollo, or—”

“Poseidon?” I asked, a shadow falling over us.

The Great Lake was ignoring gravity. Thousands of pounds of water were floating above us, held up with nothing but my mind. They looked at my hands to see if my wand was out. Even then, there were no spells they knew of that would move that much water without an incantation.

There was an enormous splash as I let the water fall, bathing the area in frigid spray. All three of them lifted their arms to protect their faces. It wasn’t needed. All the water that should’ve soaked through our robes diverted, forming puddles in a circle around our feet.

“How are you doing that!” Hermione said. 

“Dunno.” I lifted one of my fingers, making a stream of water in the air. “It’s just part of me. As easy as breathing.” I turned my finger in a circle and made a floating ring. “It’s in my blood.”

“That’s why you hate flying,” Harry said, his eyes widening. “You don’t get along with Zeus!”

“Really, though? Gods?” Ron asked. “I mean, that… That’s… I get controlling water, but isn’t it just magic? Gods can’t be real. Can they?”

“They’re called that, but they aren’t all-powerful,” I said. “Even though they’re strong, they can be beaten. They’re immortal, but they can fade. You can think of them as magical. They’re the source of magic.”

“Hecate!” Harry’s eyes widened. “That’s who brought him to Dumbledore. Percy told us her name in Slughorn’s compartment on the train. She must be the real one!”

“No one knows where magic came from.” Ron sounded guarded.

“Some do,” I said, gently, because I could tell I was putting his worldview through a ringer. “Dumbledore knows the truth. Slughorn figured it out with my help. There are wizards out there who know what you’re descended from.”

“Then we can ask Dumbledore?” Hermione spun toward Harry. “You can ask Dumbledore tomorrow! Make him tell you!”

“I will,” Harry said, “it won’t hurt to see what he says.”

Harry believed me. I could tell. I wondered if it had to do with how he was raised in the Muggle world. He’d already had everything he knew flipped on its head once. Twice didn’t feel as overwhelming.

Hermione was from the Muggle world too, but she latched onto books too much. You couldn’t read about the things I was describing, not as they actually are. Since she hadn’t seen it yet, the way she could be shown magic, and because it went against her books, she wasn’t sure. She needed Dumbledore’s confirmation. Then, it might start seeming real.

Ron still wasn’t on board. He grew up as a pureblood, even if he wasn’t a racist prick like some of them. From the time he could walk, magic was normal, so he had no experience with this kind of revelation. He wasn’t outright calling bullshit, though. He kept looking at the puddles around us.

“What can you do?” Harry asked eagerly.

“Lots,” I said, “but let’s get back to the castle. It’s cold out here.”

O-O-O

The rest of my weekend wasn’t very restful. McGonagall called us for a meeting as soon as she got back to the castle. When we were released from her questions, an Auror met with me to confirm the Imperius Curse was used. It wasn’t even Tonks, either, but a grumpy old guy who introduced himself as Dawlish. I didn’t like him. He reminded me of the cops who interviewed me after I accidentally blew up my school. Don’t ask.

When those meetings were done, I couldn’t exactly kick my feet up and relax. Harry, Ron, and Hermione dragged me to a private room behind a Troll portrait and grilled me for details. Now, a day later, I was confident that Hermione believed me. Only Ron had reservations. Harry had been on board almost since the start. He was mostly interested in hearing about the things I could do.

“No wonder you wanted to learn Aguamenti,” was all he said after hearing my powers.

Monday morning started with potions. After the last day, I was yawning the whole way down to the dungeons. The last thing I expected when I stepped inside was to have someone getting in my face.

Draco Malfoy had bad spacing. His fingers were tense and his eyes made it look like he wanted to hit me, but he was standing just out of his arms’ reach, meaning he’d have to step forward if he wanted to follow through, while my longer arms didn’t have that disadvantage. The whole class was there except for Slughorn. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were stuck outside the door, since I was in front and Draco hadn’t even given me time to step inside.

“Things like you don’t belong in Hogwarts,” Draco said.

“I know we don’t have the best reputation, but don’t you think calling Americans things is taking it a little too far?”

Draco sneered. The Slytherins in the class were watching us, Daphne included. I noticed she wasn’t meeting my eyes even when I looked past Draco. 

“I beg to differ, but that isn’t what I meant,” Draco drawled. “I know what you are, even if you try hiding it. You’re a squib!”

Hermione gasped. Meanwhile, Harry and Ron managed to squeeze into the room past me.

“He’s not a damn squib, Malfoy,” Harry said. “Mind your business.”

“Oh? If he’s got magic, then why does he need you to fight his battles?” Malfoy asked.

“Cast a spell!” barked one of the Slytherins. It was the only one whose name I didn’t know, sitting between Daphne and Blaise.

“Shut up, Nott,” Ron said.

Acting like he hadn’t heard the Weasley, Draco smiled at me. “Well? We’re waiting.”

“If he casts a spell outside of class, he’ll just end up in detention,” Harry said. 

“A small price to pay, if you ask me, in order to prove his worth,” Draco said. “Go on, do it. But you can’t, can you? My family is older than your country, you magicless fake-wizard! You should leave now, before Hogwarts gets the better of you!”

At the start, he’d been fishing for a reaction. I could tell that much. Now he sounded genuinely livid. As much as Draco was trying to seem calm, he was seething. Why? I got the feeling he genuinely wanted nothing more than me out of Hogwarts, which was backed up when he swirled spit in his mouth and hacked it straight on my robes.

His Slytherin peanut gallery couldn’t support that one. Nott tried to make an approving noise, but Blaise’s lip visibly curled at such a crude method. Draco laughed, sounding a little bit off his rocker.

“What’s wrong? Going to curse me?” he asked.

I walked past him. Since we were in the potions classroom, there were plenty of rags laying around. I picked one up and wiped down the spot where his spit hit. Draco’s grin faded when he didn’t get the reaction that he wanted.

When my robes were clean, I replaced the rag where I’d picked it up from. Then I walked back to Draco.

“Go on, just try grabbing your wand. I’ll curse you faster than you can—”

I punched him in the jaw.

The noise was ugly. The face Draco made was worse. He fell forward with his eyes rolled up in his skull. If I didn’t grab the back of his collar and set him down gently, the impact could’ve been bad.

“What was that?” Slughorn arrived with true teacher’s timing right after the important part. When he saw Draco on the floor, he gaped. “Percy? Did you do this?”

“He was calling me a squib, sir,” I said. “I didn’t really mind that, but he spit on me. I reacted without thinking. I’ll take any punishment you choose.”

“...Five points from Gryffindor!” Slughorn said. “Even if you were upset, we must use our words!”

“I’ll do my best sir,” I said, while Nott made a strangled noise and Blaise frowned at the light punishment.

“I’m sure you will,” Slughorn said. He put his arm over my shoulder, ushering me away from Draco. Conversationally, under his breath, he said, “I’ll be seeing you at the Slug Club meeting next week then, right Percy?”

The sly fox had turned this into a deal— he was letting me off lightly, but I had to come to his parties in return. No wonder he was in charge of Slytherin. Considering I fully expected to serve detention from the moment I swung, this was still getting off easy. “I’ll be there.”

“Excellent. Make sure you bring a date.” Slughorn winked. “Now, take your seat, Percy. Mr. Nott, would you mind helping Mr. Malfoy reach the hospital wing? Here, wave this under his nose and he’ll be right back to himself. I’ll excuse you from classwork for the day, so make sure he settles in well.”

As Slughorn offered Nott a small potion that acted like magical smelling salts, Daphne joined me at the table where we usually worked. She opened her textbook. “Nice punch.”

“Thanks. It’s one of my specialties.”

She squinted at me. “You aren’t an actual squib, are you?”

I levitated one of the knives we’d need, making it float in the air handle-up, where I grabbed it.

“Just a wizard of many talents,” I said innocently.