The next morning the entire school was abuzz with what had occurred. Apparently, several students had gone out into the Forbidden Forest and been caught. Among them are Quyen Crowley, Hortense Sicca, and Gertrude Fowl, who had each single-handedly lost their house fifty points, a total of 150 points together. Though that wasn't the worst part as a Gryffindor had been injured by a creature in the Forbidden Forest and would have died from the attack if not for Hagrid.
All four house heads were furious as each of them found that at least a single student from their house had participated in the night's fiasco! Though Slytherin was the house which had lost the most house points. Professor Slughorn was absolutely furious and had assigned them detention for the rest of the remaining year with himself and the rest to be with Filch. All three girls weren't very pleased, but the worst was what occurred the following day on Saturday morning.
Everyone was sitting down at breakfast rather pleased that it was the weekend. Rowan was still feeling rather pleased as neither she nor Severus was caught. And thanks to her quick thinking neither were the marauders either. They seemed rather pleased too as James flashed her a wide grin from across the Great Hall.
Suddenly, the Great Hall grows silent as six owls flutter inside with a red envelope in their beaks with the seventh owl heading past them and towards the infirmary. Only the first-year muggleborn students glance upwards in confusion as everyone watched a single owl head towards Hufflepuff, two for Ravenclaw, and three for Slytherin. Instantly everyone goes pale as hands rush to cover one's ears or plug them with fingers as the envelopes all respectively were dropped before the guilty culprits.
Rowan, having always kept a pair of magical earplugs on her person after the incident with Sirius hurriedly reaches into her pocket and plugs them. The smoking Howlers were quickly opened as six loud tyrannosaurs roared to fill the great hall causing the hall to shake with the chandeliers dangerously swinging from above. When the roars were finally over a few students seemed ill, while several others suddenly had loud stabbing headaches. More than a few students clutched their heads as they all headed down to the infirmary. The rest were left with ringing ears as they waited for the buzzing to subside.
Quyen Crowley's eyes were full of moisture as Hortense Sicca's lips trembled while Gertrude Fowl loudly sniffed. One of the culprits, a girl from Ravenclaw burst into noisy tears, while the other two boys from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw stared at the floor in utter mortification. At least the injured Gryffindor had the privacy of the infirmary.
Nonchalantly Rowan pulls out the earplugs from her ears and begins to dig into her plate before her. Severus holds his aching head and glowers darkly at her. It wasn't her fault that he wasn't prepared. He should have really learned after the last time. Howlers weren't that uncommon, especially for the younger years and the troublesome ones.
Being the first one done, Rowan goes off in search of a nice place to curl up and begins to read in the common room. Alchemy was presently dozing in a chair by the fire, while Bram happily trotted up onto the couch and curled up at her side. Bram was personally responsible for half of the nightmare trauma in the boy's dorms.
Being a gentleman and not a pervert, Bram who liked to swim regularly jumped into the warm shower alongside one of the male students. More than one boy had screamed in terror at discovering a white thing with blue eyes staring up at them in the early morning hours. On the bright side, Darcy Travers when using the Prefect's bathroom allowed Bram to tag alone to enjoy swimming in the giant bath.
"What are you reading?" A voice asked from behind her.
Craning her neck, Rowan looked up to see a smiling S.R. Wilkes. "I'm just reading the next assigned chapter for Arithmancy." She raised her book flashing the front cover, before lowing back down in her lap. "Shouldn't you be off with your girlfriend?"
"I will shortly, I just forgot something and came back for it," S.R. Wilkes answered as his face grew a bit tight. "I'll be seeing you later," before rushing out.
Rather puzzled Rowan stared after his vanished figure. Wilkes didn't seem very happy about his current relationship. Maybe it would be best to call it quits or better yet beg Jezebel to take him back. Not that Jezebel should, but he did seem awfully lot happier with Jezebel. S.R. Wilkes really should apologize, either way, he owned Jezebel that much.
Returning back to her book, Rowan ignored the studying 5th and 7th years as they each kept to their own spots. Alchemy's spot was reverently left alone as they all did their best not to disturb his sleeping royal majesty. Bram tended to take a superior attitude with his followers and regularly looked down upon them. And they must all be hidden closet masochists as the 5th and 7th years all adored him the more for it.
Finally, she got up around lunchtime and headed back out to eat. Rowan hadn't even gotten to the front hall when she was dragged away. "What the-!" Rowan started to say as the words died down in her mouth as she stared at her would-be kidnappers.
"What do the four of you want?" Rowan said as she eyed the four second-years.
Dirk perked up and said, "We need some help."
"On what exactly?"
"To enact Justice," Letitia purred.
"You have, Regulus. He's not only a Slytherin, but he's also a Black," Rowan pointedly declared.
Regulus shrugs and says, "We know that, but we want don't want to get expelled."
Narrowing her eyes, Rowan says, "And why would I be the one to go to."
"Because I saw what you did to Mulciber and Avery that day," Barty flashed her an innocent smile.
"Is this a blatant attempt to blackmail me?" Rowan asked.
"I prefer to say, it's a matter of fact," Barty grinned back causing his freckles to stand out more.
"I must say, I'm impressed," Rowan admitted. "I thought I'd covered all my bases. You'll make an excellent Auror, Barty as I didn't even sense you there."
"Thank you," Barty flushed in pride. "But I think I'll go into the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It all sounds rather fascinating."
"Well, then, who am I hypothetically aiding you against?" Rowan asked.
"Hypothetically, it's Bertha Jorkins," Dirk grimaced.
"How'd you get on her bad side?" Rowan arched her eyebrow. "I thought I was the only one unlucky enough to garner her unwanted attention."
Dirk flushed and said, "There's this girl, Dorothy Cabot. She's just a year older than me, and Bertha Jorkins was picking on her because of her shaggy hair. Well, I don't mind it, I personally think it's quite fluffy and soft. But that's not the point, I stood up to Jorkins and called her a prickly, putrid, slug-faced witch, who'll never get married nor much less ever find a boyfriend because she can't keep her mouth shut to save her life."
Rowan lets out a low whistle and says, "Okay, I'll help you. Now what exactly are we talking about?"
"We want to shut her mouth," Letitia evilly purred.
For the third time in her life, Rowan found herself wondering if the sorting hat hadn't missorted another student. Quickly clearing her mind, she purses her lips, before saying, "Well, I do know of a smell that could cause her tongue to be rooted to the top of her mouth, but there's a counterspell for that. The worst you could do is cause her voice to temporarily fade away for a week or so."
Leaning over, Rowan whispered a spell into Dirk's ear, which she had coincidentally learned from the gifted joke book spell book. It wouldn't silence Bertha Jorkins, but everything that would come out of Jorkins' mouth would only be animal squawks for a few days. There was no counter spell as the effects of the spell could only be worn off. With a pleased expression, the four of them rush off leaving Rowan filled with pride. It did her heart good to see still such clever children in the world.
On that note, those words came true. Bertha Jorkins was unable to speak for a few days she slowly went mad. She'd see dark wraiths from the corner of her eyes and be unable to scream except to squawk. Then there was finding creepy crawling things in her drawers and strange written ominous predictions every time she looked into the mirror. By the time the week was over, Bertha Jorkins had lost about fifteen pounds and was a gibbering mess. Though Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey solely thought it was a product of severe 7th-year stress. It wasn't that uncommon as the N.E.W. T's got closer and closer for the 7th-year students.