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Chapter 107: Always Look on the Bright Side
Even as he walked up to Mr. Filch's door, William remained skeptical about the caretaker's claim of having caught so many troublemakers.
A student gathering wasn't a valid excuse for punishment—not even if the kids had scattered at the sight of the caretaker and had a long list of past offenses.
And as for rounding them up for questioning, that was even more pointless. Though he'd never attended Hogwarts, William knew from his own school days that when it came to habitual offenders, they would never confess without definitive proof.
It was like a school's head of discipline catching a group of students in the lavatory, far more than there were stalls. As long as no cigarettes were found, the excuse was always, "Sorry, sir—we were just having a chat." "What's that? The lavatory smells?" "Well, some people like the smell of petrol, don't they? What's wrong with us liking the smell of the loo?"
"Smoking? Never. Even if you fetch my Head of House, I'll just be an innocent bystander who came here for a piss and got rounded up by mistake."
The caretaker was far more familiar with these tactics than the students were—Mr. Filch had heard more excuses than these children had told lies in their entire lives.
As for Professor McGonagall, she hadn't come to get everyone off the hook. She was mainly concerned that with so many students caught, there might be some unlucky children caught in the crossfire. With this many Gryffindors rounded up at once, surely some poor unlucky fellows had just been swept along for the ride?
But all that changed the moment the door swung open. Mr. Filch’s office, meticulously warded with all sorts of props and protective charms, had prevented any eavesdroppers from fulfilling their mission. It also made Professor McGonagall instantly abandon any thought of lending the students a helping hand.
It couldn't be helped. In the eyes of these students, not even the Forbidden Forest, the school’s secret passages, and the Headmaster’s Office combined could inspire such a powerful urge for destruction as Filch's office. The moment Mr. Filch had contacted the professors to ask if they needed more students for detention, having caught an excess of prisoners, this lot could no longer contain their desire to search the room.
*'Say, I wonder if Mr. Filch left on purpose to bait them?'*
The thought popped into William's head, but it was quickly driven away by the sight of Professor McGonagall's expression hardening beside him.
The Professor's lips pressed together into a thin, straight line, and her gaze grew sharp. Under her stare, the students rummaging through the archives froze. They shut the drawers, and their hands dangled uselessly in front of them as if they'd forgotten what to do with them.
As her eyes swept around Mr. Filch’s office, the boisterous room fell silent. The students all seemed to deflate, like a field of frostbitten cabbages.
"Excellent. Just excellent."
Professor McGonagall said the words of praise, but anyone with half a brain could hear the icy chill in her tone.
"Mr. Filch, I'll leave these students in your capable hands. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be delighted."
*Thump!*
A loud noise shattered the room’s silence, causing everyone’s head to whip around. A student, who had apparently climbed into Mr. Filch's hammock and was playing dead to avoid being seen by the professors, had gotten too nervous and fallen out.
"Lee Jordan!"
Professor McGonagall's voice was several notches louder than usual. The boy, who had remained perfectly still after falling in a last-ditch attempt to play dead, scrambled to his feet instantly. He looked up at Professor McGonagall like a drenched quail.
William could clearly see Professor McGonagall swallow a few times, as if she wanted to announce a specific punishment just for him, but in the end, the Professor restrained herself.
"Well then, I'll leave these students to you."
Professor McGonagall departed in a hurry. From her uncharacteristically brisk pace, William suspected she was afraid she wouldn't be able to stop herself from punishing the students personally if she stayed any longer.
As the sound of Professor McGonagall’s footsteps faded down the corridor, William heard a collective, audible gasp of relief from inside Mr. Filch's office.
*'Look how she scared them,'* William thought.
As he was thinking this, he asked Mr. Filch, "How many of them are Gryffindors?"
"Three-fifths, or maybe more," Mr. Filch replied cheerfully, like a proud old farmer showing off his harvest.
While answering William's question, he pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket that listed various professors' requests. He then used his fingernail to scratch out a few names on the list.
"Lee Jordan, you're to go to the Hospital Wing and scrub bedpans. For one week."
William saw clearly that this name had originally been assigned to Professor Lockhart to help answer fan mail.
*'What an unlucky kid.'*
William listened as Mr. Filch read out name after name. Just as Professor McGonagall had implied, all the students originally assigned to the Hospital Wing had been swapped out for Gryffindors.
But even after that, only a few students had been assigned. Once all the other professors' requests were filled, there were still over twenty students left for William—a veritable godsend for organizing the school history.
"The students whose names I've called may leave. Remember to report to your professors on time," Mr. Filch announced smugly.
"I told you, he caught too many of us. There's no way he can punish everyone."
"Shut it. If you'd been a better lookout, Professor McGonagall would never have seen us searching the office!"
"If they finish picking people now, the rest of us might get to wait, right?"
"Wait? You think Filch will let us off? He'll just write our names down and get to us in a few weeks."
"Even one more day of freedom is good."
...
"No talking amongst yourselves!"
Filch had just finished asking William if he could really make use of so many students when he noticed many of them whispering to each other.
"That's alright. This evening, everyone will report to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom for our first detention. With this many people, anywhere smaller wouldn't fit."
"Professor, can I ask what we'll be doing?" one of the students bravely asked.
"Copying and organizing some information. No need to bring your own paper and pen; I'll have them ready for you. Alright, ladies and gentlemen, you may also leave now. But remember, eight o'clock tonight, in the classroom. I would hate to have to speak with your Heads of House."
William said with exceptional kindness to these thriving... ahem... students who had so spontaneously offered their help.
---
After leaving the office, the group of students, who had been rounded up before they'd even had a proper night's sleep, began to talk amongst themselves.
"Hah... detention in a classroom, with this many people at once. I bet Hogwarts hasn't seen a sight this spectacular in thirty years."
"I really thought we'd be let off. No professor's office could fit this many of us. Using a classroom?"
"Alright, let's look on the bright side."
"The bright side? What bright side is there?"
"Didn't the Weasley brothers say he was short on help and was going to hold an exam? At least now we've gotten out of an exam."
(end of chapter)
Even as he walked up to Mr. Filch's door, William remained skeptical about the caretaker's claim of having caught so many troublemakers.
A student gathering wasn't a valid excuse for punishment—not even if the kids had scattered at the sight of the caretaker and had a long list of past offenses.
And as for rounding them up for questioning, that was even more pointless. Though he'd never attended Hogwarts, William knew from his own school days that when it came to habitual offenders, they would never confess without definitive proof.
It was like a school's head of discipline catching a group of students in the lavatory, far more than there were stalls. As long as no cigarettes were found, the excuse was always, "Sorry, sir—we were just having a chat." "What's that? The lavatory smells?" "Well, some people like the smell of petrol, don't they? What's wrong with us liking the smell of the loo?"
"Smoking? Never. Even if you fetch my Head of House, I'll just be an innocent bystander who came here for a piss and got rounded up by mistake."
The caretaker was far more familiar with these tactics than the students were—Mr. Filch had heard more excuses than these children had told lies in their entire lives.
As for Professor McGonagall, she hadn't come to get everyone off the hook. She was mainly concerned that with so many students caught, there might be some unlucky children caught in the crossfire. With this many Gryffindors rounded up at once, surely some poor unlucky fellows had just been swept along for the ride?
But all that changed the moment the door swung open. Mr. Filch’s office, meticulously warded with all sorts of props and protective charms, had prevented any eavesdroppers from fulfilling their mission. It also made Professor McGonagall instantly abandon any thought of lending the students a helping hand.
It couldn't be helped. In the eyes of these students, not even the Forbidden Forest, the school’s secret passages, and the Headmaster’s Office combined could inspire such a powerful urge for destruction as Filch's office. The moment Mr. Filch had contacted the professors to ask if they needed more students for detention, having caught an excess of prisoners, this lot could no longer contain their desire to search the room.
*'Say, I wonder if Mr. Filch left on purpose to bait them?'*
The thought popped into William's head, but it was quickly driven away by the sight of Professor McGonagall's expression hardening beside him.
The Professor's lips pressed together into a thin, straight line, and her gaze grew sharp. Under her stare, the students rummaging through the archives froze. They shut the drawers, and their hands dangled uselessly in front of them as if they'd forgotten what to do with them.
As her eyes swept around Mr. Filch’s office, the boisterous room fell silent. The students all seemed to deflate, like a field of frostbitten cabbages.
"Excellent. Just excellent."
Professor McGonagall said the words of praise, but anyone with half a brain could hear the icy chill in her tone.
"Mr. Filch, I'll leave these students in your capable hands. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be delighted."
*Thump!*
A loud noise shattered the room’s silence, causing everyone’s head to whip around. A student, who had apparently climbed into Mr. Filch's hammock and was playing dead to avoid being seen by the professors, had gotten too nervous and fallen out.
"Lee Jordan!"
Professor McGonagall's voice was several notches louder than usual. The boy, who had remained perfectly still after falling in a last-ditch attempt to play dead, scrambled to his feet instantly. He looked up at Professor McGonagall like a drenched quail.
William could clearly see Professor McGonagall swallow a few times, as if she wanted to announce a specific punishment just for him, but in the end, the Professor restrained herself.
"Well then, I'll leave these students to you."
Professor McGonagall departed in a hurry. From her uncharacteristically brisk pace, William suspected she was afraid she wouldn't be able to stop herself from punishing the students personally if she stayed any longer.
As the sound of Professor McGonagall’s footsteps faded down the corridor, William heard a collective, audible gasp of relief from inside Mr. Filch's office.
*'Look how she scared them,'* William thought.
As he was thinking this, he asked Mr. Filch, "How many of them are Gryffindors?"
"Three-fifths, or maybe more," Mr. Filch replied cheerfully, like a proud old farmer showing off his harvest.
While answering William's question, he pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket that listed various professors' requests. He then used his fingernail to scratch out a few names on the list.
"Lee Jordan, you're to go to the Hospital Wing and scrub bedpans. For one week."
William saw clearly that this name had originally been assigned to Professor Lockhart to help answer fan mail.
*'What an unlucky kid.'*
William listened as Mr. Filch read out name after name. Just as Professor McGonagall had implied, all the students originally assigned to the Hospital Wing had been swapped out for Gryffindors.
But even after that, only a few students had been assigned. Once all the other professors' requests were filled, there were still over twenty students left for William—a veritable godsend for organizing the school history.
"The students whose names I've called may leave. Remember to report to your professors on time," Mr. Filch announced smugly.
"I told you, he caught too many of us. There's no way he can punish everyone."
"Shut it. If you'd been a better lookout, Professor McGonagall would never have seen us searching the office!"
"If they finish picking people now, the rest of us might get to wait, right?"
"Wait? You think Filch will let us off? He'll just write our names down and get to us in a few weeks."
"Even one more day of freedom is good."
...
"No talking amongst yourselves!"
Filch had just finished asking William if he could really make use of so many students when he noticed many of them whispering to each other.
"That's alright. This evening, everyone will report to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom for our first detention. With this many people, anywhere smaller wouldn't fit."
"Professor, can I ask what we'll be doing?" one of the students bravely asked.
"Copying and organizing some information. No need to bring your own paper and pen; I'll have them ready for you. Alright, ladies and gentlemen, you may also leave now. But remember, eight o'clock tonight, in the classroom. I would hate to have to speak with your Heads of House."
William said with exceptional kindness to these thriving... ahem... students who had so spontaneously offered their help.
---
After leaving the office, the group of students, who had been rounded up before they'd even had a proper night's sleep, began to talk amongst themselves.
"Hah... detention in a classroom, with this many people at once. I bet Hogwarts hasn't seen a sight this spectacular in thirty years."
"I really thought we'd be let off. No professor's office could fit this many of us. Using a classroom?"
"Alright, let's look on the bright side."
"The bright side? What bright side is there?"
"Didn't the Weasley brothers say he was short on help and was going to hold an exam? At least now we've gotten out of an exam."
(end of chapter)
