Chapter 38: Turmoil and a Duel
"Professor Quirrell hasn't taught a single class all week," a student chattered in the unsupervised Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. "Madam Pomfrey won't let anyone see him either. You can leave him gifts, but you can't disturb him."
"I wonder what really happened to him."
The students were all abuzz, discussing the hottest topic at Hogwarts. "The older students say the DADA position is cursed by You-Know-Who!"
"But Professor Quirrell was still the shortest-lasting one yet."
Harry sat with Ron, trying to keep a low profile. He had managed to convince Ron to stop actively spreading his "Ryan bullied the new professor" theory, but whenever someone else brought it up, Ron would jump into the conversation with gusto. Harry was praying that no one would mention it today.
But his prayers went unanswered. "It was definitely Ryan!" a first-year Gryffindor declared. "He took out our DADA professor so we can't learn to defend ourselves! That way, it'll be easier for him to purge the 'unworthy' students!"
A murmur of agreement went through the group. The younger students, lacking any real critical thinking skills, didn't stop to consider the most obvious flaw in this logic: If Ryan was powerful enough to take down a professor, why would he need such a roundabout way to get rid of students?
Harry shot a hopeful look at Ron, then immediately gave up. Ron's face was flushed, a sure sign that he was about to jump on the bandwagon.
Sure enough, Ron's voice rang out: "Ryan Welles has a conspiracy! He wants to control Hogwarts, to control the whole wizarding world, by getting rid of anyone who won't follow him!"
Harry closed his eyes, overcome with a sudden urge to knock Ron unconscious. How could he even think that about Ryan? Ryan had no such ambitions! If Ron would just talk to Percy, he would know that!
"He's going against Hogwarts! Against the Ministry! Against Dumbledore himself!" Ron was on his feet now, his arms raised in a dramatic gesture. Bathed in the adoring gazes of a few like-minded first-years, he trembled with excitement. This was the attention he had always craved.
Harry was at a complete loss. Did Ron really not see that most of the students were just enjoying the show, not actually agreeing with him?
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said from across the aisle. "I don't think he does see it. Also, you just said that out loud."
Harry's face burned. He felt a sudden, intense desire for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him.
"But it's strange, isn't it?" Hermione continued, a frown on her face. "I don't know Ron that well, but those words… they didn't really sound like him." She looked at Harry. "You're his roommate. What do you think?"
Harry, still reeling from his own embarrassment, couldn't think clearly. "I don't know," he mumbled. "Maybe he could have. Percy and the twins are all very clever."
"Perhaps," Hermione said, and went back to her book.
"Aren't we going to do something?" Harry asked.
"No," she said without looking up. "Only a few people actually believe him, and we'll never be able to change their minds. Ryan told me that trying to change people who are determined not to be changed is a waste of mental energy."
Harry thought this was a very wise sentiment, but he still couldn't bring himself to abandon his friend. He now understood, with perfect, agonizing clarity, what "a waste of mental energy" meant.
After class, they passed the notice board, where a new announcement had drawn a crowd. It was from the Headmaster, requesting all students and staff to attend dinner in the Great Hall, where an announcement would be made concerning the future of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
"Maybe Professor Quirrell is better?" Harry wondered.
"Or maybe he's not getting better at all," a drawling voice said from behind them. Malfoy and his two goons were blocking their path. Though their relationship had thawed slightly since the club meeting, the two boys still couldn't stand each other.
"See!" Ron interjected. "The Headmaster must have uncovered Ryan's plot! He's going to expel him!"
Harry and Malfoy both turned to stare at Ron, the former with despair, the latter with sheer astonishment.
"Potter, is this your friend?" Malfoy drawled, a look of incredulous wonder on his face. "Merlin, it's another Weasley. A pity 'we' don't have this particular Weasley in our group. I imagine the other Weasleys wouldn't agree with him, either."
"They don't agree with me, Malfoy, but you think they'd agree with you?!" Ron's face was now a furious shade of red. "Your whole family is rotten to the core!"
Harry had no idea what had gotten into Ron today. He'd never seen him be so brave—or so reckless. And Malfoy usually just ignored him.
He expected Malfoy to explode, but instead, the Slytherin boy just looked down his nose at Ron, his face a mask of cold fury. "I challenge you to a wizard's duel, Weasley," he said. "I'll show you what a Malfoy is."
"Anytime!" Ron shot back, taking a step forward. "My second is Harry! Who's yours?"
A wizard's duel? A second? How did it come to this? Harry felt like a third wheel, an extraneous option in a multiple-choice question.
"My second is—" Malfoy began, but was cut off by a smooth, elegant voice.
"I am," Vaisey Selwyn said, striding towards them. "The trophy room, eight o'clock tonight." Harry recognized the older student who had challenged his stereotype of Slytherins.
"Vaisey!" Malfoy's face lit up.
Vaisey nodded to both Malfoy and Harry, then turned to Ron. "Mr. Ron Weasley, I do hope to see you this evening. You are, of course, welcome to bring your brothers." He smiled, a dazzling, dangerous expression. "I look forward to dueling a Weasley again."
Ron's face, somehow, turned an even deeper shade of red.
On the way back to the common room, Harry dreaded the inevitable lecture from Ron about the evils of Slytherin, but surprisingly, it never came.
...
Dinner Time.
The first thing everyone saw when they entered the Great Hall was Ryan Welles. He wasn't at the Ravenclaw table. He was sitting at the head table.
His appearance was… new. He wore sunglasses, was leaning on a cane, and had a sullen expression on his face. His hair was a mess. Next to him sat Professor Snape, who radiated a similar aura of dark, miserable energy, his greasy hair plastered to his forehead. They both looked as if they were being held there against their will, with invisible signs above their heads that read "I'd rather be anywhere else," "Dumbledore has made a grave error in judgment," and "Justice for the wrongfully accused."
Even when Penelope, Vaisey, and Pablo waved to him, Ryan just gave a listless, barely perceptible nod.
"What's going on?" Penelope asked as she sat down. "Why is Ryan at the head table?"
"He looks like he's been kidnapped," a fellow Ravenclaw observed.
Penelope looked again. "He really does."
~~~
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