A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I appreciate it very much. Here's the
next one and comments/constructive criticisms would be very much appreciated. Thank you!
Chapter Eleven - Who Made These Rules?
October arrived in a swirl of howling winds and chilly rain that seemed to jump the Hertfordshire hills in sheets to
smash into the walls of Ballynore. The weather appeared to bring with it all manner of germs and viruses, or perhaps it
just appeared that way to Hermione. Davina was now getting booster Pepper Up Potions at least once a week; the poor kid
seemed especially vulnerable to whatever bug that was going around.
Ben and Luke were enjoying their school and Emerson... Hermione really didn't know what to think. She and Harry had had a long discussion about Em's behavior, but as this was so new, they really had nothing to go on. The young girl had apologized to her father the next morning for her outburst but still hadn't told them anything further about her Quidditch decision. Nothing else seemed to be out of the ordinary. Maybe it was puberty; she was twelve years old, anyway. High time for those changes to start happening, and emotional outbursts were to be expected, Hermione told herself. But something about it made her uneasy.
Em owled them twice weekly, brief little notes saying she was drowning in homework but was otherwise fine. Harry and Hermione sent her care packages at least once a week, filled with news about what was happening at home as well as some of Em's favorite foodstuff.
Work, too, was going well. Puddlemere was on the warpath. Their ranking had jumped to number one just last week and Harry and Oliver had ordered an extra regimen of training sessions that the bad weather had done nothing to interrupt. They intended to hold onto the top spot for as long as they were able, come hell or high water.
With Hermione's job, they were currently researching the difference between Muggle and Wizard Flu and why Muggles almost always had fatal reactions to the Wizard version. This was something especially sensitive to Hermione because her father had nearly died from a particularly virulent strain of the flu that had developed into pneumonia. It had been just before Davina was born, and her father had been in a coma for more than a month. They hadn't thought he would ever wake up and had named their newborn daughter in his honor -- "Davina" for David Granger.
Thankfully, he had miraculously recovered (Harry had a theory about that, actually) and while he was by no means an invalid, he had never really regained all his strength. Hermione and Harry had invited him to live at Ballynore with them but her father had politely declined, choosing instead to remain in his own home but with a live-in personal assistant.
Hermione was jolted from her thoughts as the front passenger door of the Jaguar was yanked open and Ben hopped in, slamming the door. He waved wildly at someone out the window before turning to grin at his mother.
"Hi Mum."
"Hey," she said, leaning over to drop a kiss on his slightly damp head. "How was school?"
"It was all right," he replied, rubbing his glasses on his robes to dry them. "Nothing earthshaking happened."
She smiled as she pushed the Invisibility Booster that would allow them to travel much faster than mere driving would. She wanted to get home quickly because her dad was watching Luke and Vina for her, and Lord knew what kind of mischief those two would charm their grandfather into letting them into. Harry was in Brussels with the team and wouldn't be back until tomorrow night, and she missed him terribly. She always hated when they had to be apart.
"What do you know about reversible and irreversible reactions?" Ben asked suddenly, looking over at her.
Hermione hastily pushed away the thoughts of her husband and his absence. "Hmm, let's see," she said, her brow furrowed as she strove to recall the definitions. "A reversible reaction is one in which the products of a reaction can react back to produce the original reactants. And basically an irreversible reaction is one that can't revert back to the originals."
Ben gaped at her in awe. "Wow, Mum! That's Muggle science stuff! How come you know it?"
"I read a lot, remember?" she replied, smiling over at him. "Just like a certain someone I know."
Her son grinned. "Miss McDonald brought in a Chemistry book from that school you and Dad wanted me to go to?"
"Yeah."
"And I was reading up on that while everybody else did homework revision. It's kind of fascinating, isn't it?" he asked, his eyes shining behind his glasses. "Like how water can turn into ice and back to water. Whereas if you burn wood, you get ash but you can't turn the ash back into wood."
"That's the way it usually works," Hermione commented as the car rolled swiftly through London's wet and foggy streets.
He was quiet for a while before he spoke again. "I wonder what it's like to be a Muggle. To be so limited. I mean, the reversible and irreversible stuff doesn't apply to us, does it?"
"No, it doesn't. If you're in the Wizarding world, you can usually cheat science and turn almost anything into whatever you want, if you know how," she answered, silently marveling at his depth of insight. She'd personally never thought about that before. He was so smart and she was so proud of him.
"D'you think you'd have minded being a Muggle?"
She turned to look at him. Would she have? On the one hand, she'd likely have gotten to spend more time with her parents, something she regretted especially with her mother being gone and herself being a mother now. Sometimes, she wished she could talk to her mum about her children, the joys, sorrows and fears of raising them. Molly Weasley helped a bit in that regard but nothing took the place of her own mother.
But on the other hand, if she'd been a Muggle, then she never would have gone to Hogwarts. She never would have met Harry and Ron. She never would have gone through all those adventures with them.
She never would have fallen in love with Harry and there would be no Ben, among other things.
"Yeah," Ben replied when she told him that, frowning thoughtfully. "I wonder if there are alternate realities and in some of the others, you and Dad never met and I don't exist."
The thought sent a tingle of unease down her spine and she was supremely glad that he did exist. She was supremely glad that Emerson, Luke and Davina existed and she was astronomically glad that Harry existed. "Sounds scary, doesn't it?"
Her son grinned. "Kinda." As the car turned into the long, winding lane that led to Ballynore, Ben turned to her again. "Mum?"
"Hmm?"
"Can my friend Arnie come over on Saturday?"
She looked over at him, startled by the change of topic. "Arnie?"
"Yeah. Arnie Shriver. He's in Rajiv's class but he hangs out with me and Andy. He's really funny."
Hermione looked slightly puzzled. She'd never heard him mention an Arnie Shriver before. Who was this kid and how did Ben come to be friends with him? Hmm.. perhaps she should have him over and perhaps her questions would be answered. "I thought you were having Andy over."
Ben nodded. "I am, but I want Arnie to come too. So can he?"
"Well, if it's okay with his parents, I don't see why not. I'll send them an owl," she said, parking in the garage and using her wand to shut off the engine.
He beamed. "Thanks Mum. You're the best."
Hermione couldn't resist her heart swelling at those words and she smiled at him. "I am, aren't I?"
Ben laughed and she ruffled his already untidy head as they went inside. Hermione hugged and thanked her father, who had been showing Luke how to twirl a yo-yo. She watched as Luke tried it yet again, his small forehead creased in concentration as he tried to jerk the classic Muggle toy.
"This is too hard," he whined at last as the string tangled yet again. "Grandpa, let Mum tap it with her wand and it'll just spin."
Mr. Granger sighed. "But that would defeat the purpose of a yo-yo, Budget. The whole point is that you make it spin."
"Well, this little boy can't make it spin so it's a bust," Luke commented dryly and his grandfather burst out laughing.
Hermione hid a smile as she stooped to cuddle and kiss her daughter, who had attached herself to her mother's leg while loudly clamoring for attention. She was so glad that she still had her Dad. Seeing him with her children always brought home the fact that she had come so close to losing him, that her children had almost lost their best link to the world into which she had been born. Ben's curiosity warmed her heart because as long as that curiosity existed, there would be no room for apathy or feelings of superiority. The wizarding world had come very far since the final defeat of Voldemort, but Hermione knew that negative feelings towards Muggles still existed.
"Let me try it, Grandpa," said Ben, dropping his backpack and picking up the discarded toy.
Davina toddled away to sit on her namesake's lap and Luke ran over to hug his mother in greeting. She held him close, feeling his small arms around her neck and suddenly she missed Harry so much, the ache became almost palpable. He had only been gone two nights but she just missed him horribly.
As if he sensed her distress, Luke pulled away and peered at her with the green eyes he'd inherited from his father. "Are you sad, Mummy?"
Blinking back tears in surprise, she nodded. "Yeah, a little bit. I miss Daddy."
"I miss him too. But don't worry. He'll be back home tomorrow, okay?" Luke assured her wisely.
Feeling strangely like the child instead of the adult, she nodded again. "Okay," letting him go so he could yell in awe at Ben, who had quickly deduced the way the yo-yo worked and was twirling it to the delight of his grandfather and younger siblings. Of course, after that new demonstration, Luke put forward a fresh effort to master the toy. If his big brother could do it then, by Jove, so could he!
That night when she went to bed, after all the kids had been tucked in and read to (she tried not to take it personally that none of them wanted her to read to them; only Grandpa would do), she laid alone in the huge bed and tried to hold onto her five-year-old son's words. He'll be back home tomorrow. She knew that, of course; she was just being silly. She was just wishing that he was here to hold, to thank for all joy he had brought to her life; for all the dreams he had made come true.
For the fact that he did exist and because of him, these wonderful beings did too.
She would have to wait till the morrow. For now, she held his pillow tight, inhaled deeply of his scent and fell asleep.
******
Ben was particularly excited for lunchtime the next day because he had the good news to share with Arnie that he could come over to Ballynore that weekend. Having been afflicted by one of those nasty bugs going around, Andy wasn't at school that day and Ben was sort of glad about that. He still wasn't entirely sure how his best friend felt about Arnie. Most of the time, everything seemed to be fine, but sometimes Ben would catch Andy scowling at Arnie when the other boy wasn't looking.
It seemed Andy was slightly threatened by the younger boy. Which Ben didn't understand at all. Couldn't he have more than one friend? It wasn't as if he'd replaced Andy with Arnie or anything; Andy was still his best friend.
He was late getting outside for lunch because Miss McDonald wanted to go over some things from that science book with him. He had blushed at her praise of his homework about the reversible/irreversible assignment that she'd given him and there was a definite spring in his step as he hurried outside.
It had stopped raining, though the sky was still overcast and a few people were furtively trying to dry puddles via wandless magic. Most of his schoolmates were sitting around eating, but there was quite a large crowd gathered near the beech tree.
'Probably they've found a nest of newts or toads that got flooded out by the rain,' Ben thought as he weaved his way across the courtyard, craning his neck for Arnie. He couldn't see his friend anywhere and he decided to look inside. Maybe Arnie was still in class, for some reason.
"Ben!"
He spun around. After a few seconds of searching, he saw who had yelled his name. Rajiv was beckoning to him frantically from the edge of the large crowd by the beech tree.
"What?" he called, neither wanting nor caring to see newts or toads right now. Besides, he didn't have time for this. Poor Arnie was probably starving.
Apparently impatient with Ben's lack of action, Rajiv came sprinting over. Clutching his side, he pointed back at the crowd. "Arnie," he panted. "Paddy's got Arnie."
Ben's eyes widened in horror behind his glasses. Paddy McPherson was the biggest bully at Woodlands and nearly every student had a horror story about a run-in with him. The fact that he was already twelve and bigger than the other kids gave him a definite advantage, which he had no qualms about utilizing.
Ben hadn't been treated any differently. In fact, Paddy had taken special delight in tormenting him until he realized that Ben didn't react the way he wanted him to. Instead of getting mad, crying or cowering, Ben had simply tuned Paddy out and ignored him, and after awhile the older boy had gotten bored and left him alone.
But Arnie- he was new. He didn't know the best way to respond to Paddy. The bully had only just returned to school and in his absence, Ben had forgotten to advise Arnie.
With Rajiv hot on his tail, he ran over and pushed his way through the crowd. Reaching the front, he stared at what was happening in front of him. Arnie was standing beside the beech tree with his head hanging down while Paddy plucked at his threadbare robes and shoved him.
"I mean, what's up with the clothes?" Paddy taunted, his broad face twisted with malicious glee. "Did you lose a bet or do you always dress like this?" His two sidekicks, Paul Raptor and Dirk Messner, guffawed appreciatively while Arnie flushed deeply.
For what felt like forever but in reality was only about a minute, Ben stood and watched everybody watch. Most people were looking both scared and relieved at the same time, scared for Arnie yet relieved that they weren't the ones being bullied. Arnie's arms hung limply at his sides, his head bowed as if he was ashamed of himself. Why? Arnie had nothing to be ashamed of. It wasn't his fault that his dad got laid off from his job and couldn't find another one. It wasn't his fault that his mother was consumed by two chronically-ill toddlers. Yet he was being treated as if it was.
And Ben was livid.
His Mum and Dad had always taught him that it was our choices and actions that made us who we really are, not our last names, not our blood pedigree and certainly not the state of our clothes. And in spite of everything, Arnie chose to be a good person, a really funny person. He didn't deserve this.
"Leave him alone!" Ben yelled, stalking forward. Before anyone else could react, he stopped short right behind Paddy, grasped him by the back of his robes and yanked him forcefully away from Arnie.
"What the-" the bully sputtered. Nobody had ever dared stand up to him before and his face contorted further when he saw Ben. "You! Come to play the hero like your famous father, Potter?'
"Whatever," Ben snapped. "You just leave my friends alone."
Paddy looked Arnie up and down, a sneer on his face. "You're friends with this?"
Ben's hazel eyes flashed as he glared up at the bigger boy. "His name is Arnie. And yes, I am. You wanna make something of it? You have a problem with that?"
"Mind your own business, Four Eyes. I wasn't bothering you. I'm just having some fun with- what'd you say his name was? Smarmy?" Paddy snorted at his own joke and casually shoved Arnie, who lost his balance. He tried to break his fall but the ground beneath his feet was wet and muddy, and he slipped and fell heavily, his whole weight landing on his left arm.
Paddy, Paul and Dirk burst out laughing as if that was the funniest thing they had ever seen and even a few people snickered in the crowd. Arnie was cradling his elbow, making little pitiful whimpers and something exploded in Ben's head. Almost without deciding to do so, his fist was sailing through the air and connecting squelchily with Paddy's nose. The bully let out a yowl like a punctured cat, his small eyes watering in pain and fury. He lunged for Ben and the two boys fell to the ground beside Arnie and rapidly became a blurred tangle of arms, legs, yelps and thuds, writhing around in the mud.
Ben's heart was pounding, his ears were ringing from the shouts of his schoolmates, his left jaw was aching from where Paddy had got him good but the only thing that mattered was making this piece of filth pay for hurting his friend, for mocking him, for-
He was yanked away from Paddy roughly by the back of his robes and pulled to his feet. Turning around, he found himself looking into the shocked and furious grey eyes of his teacher. "Benjamin Potter! What is the meaning of this? Explain yourself!"
Breathing heavily, Ben glared at Paddy with hatred, taking little pleasure in fact that Paddy's nose was bleeding profusely or that he had a long red welt down one cheek. Ben could feel his jaw throbbing, his fists were still clenched and there was something trickling from one side of his mouth. He swiped angrily at it.
"Benjamin! Didn't you hear what I said? Explain yourself!"
Some of the rage that he was feeling dissipated enough for Ben to feel the beginnings of embarrassment creeping up on him. Dropping his head, he stared instead at his muddy shoes, unable to bear the look of profound disappointment in the eyes of one of the adults he so admired.
"Go to the Headmistress' office right now. Both of you!" Miss McDonald said sharply. "And all the rest of you, to your classrooms. Immediately!"
The crowd parted to let them through and Ben walked slowly back into the building, myriad emotions now competing for dominance inside him. On the one hand, he had done the right thing, hadn't he? He had stood up for his friend. He had defended him.
But on the other hand, he had let Miss McDonald down. Hadn't he? Why else would she look at him like that, as if she had never seen him before, as if she hadn't barely twenty minutes ago been telling him how proud she was of him? Hadn't he done what was right in standing up to Paddy?
Later, even though they all asked him why, he wouldn't tell them. He hadn't had a chance to talk to his friend, but didn't poor Arnie have it bad enough without even more embarrassment? Let them think that he'd simply picked a fight with Paddy for the heck of it. He knew none of the kids who had witnessed the confrontation would say a word, for fear of incurring Paddy's wrath themselves.
He didn't cry when the school nurse healed his cuts with some kind of potion that stung even more than the wounds did in the first place. He didn't cry when his teacher told him to get his bag and wait for his mother in the Headmistress' office. He came mightily close, but he didn't cry when his mother looked at him with almost the same mixture of disappointment and bewilderment that Miss McDonald had.
No, he didn't cry, not until he was safely tucked away in bed. Because his father had come home that night and hugged him in greeting, obviously not knowing of his behavior that day. Would his Dad still have hugged him like that if he had known? Or would he have looked at him that way too, unknowingly striking another and even bigger blow to his young heart?
Because out of them all, it was his father that he idolized the most. It was his father who was his hero. And Ben cried at the prospect of his hero ever looking at him in that way, simply because he had done the right thing.
*****
It seems we lose the game
Before we even start to play
Who made these rules?
We're so confused
Easily led astray
- Lauryn Hill "Everything is Everything"