Oliver Evans is The Prodigy of the Heart (Book One)

Chapter Ten: The PBS Strikes

The days went by, and finally it was the last day that the visiting schools would spend at Hogwarts. The courtyard was filled with students giving hugs, writing down addresses and saying their goodbyes. Mallory was running around the courtyard, trying to get as many addresses as she could. Trent was leaning against the wall in the far corner, saying goodbye to Yataku.

"You will write to me, promise?" she said, holding out a small address book

"I will write to you as soon as I get inside so you have something waiting when you get home." he said as she took his hands in hers and smiled. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a gentle kiss, turning his face bright red.

"Good bye, Trent. We will see each other again. I am sure of it." she let go of his hands and strolled over to her group of friends who were all waiting to go home.

I walked up to his side "It's gonna be okay, mate. She seems to really like you, I'm sure you'll keep in touch."

"Yeah," he sighed "I'm not letting this one go."

As the final visiting students finished filing out of the courtyard, Dumbledore entered and walked over to me; he had a serious look on his face, "Mister Evans, would you please come with me for a while?"

"Y..yes sir." I said anxiously, following him inside. Trent sat down on the wet ground and started to cry as we turned the corner inside the castle. We walked up to his office and stopped at the door. Dumbledore mumbled something. The gargoyle that stood in the center of the staircase turned and opened up to us. He guided me up the stairs and into his office. "Take a seat, Oliver."

I sat down in the chair in front of his desk as he began to walk around his office, touching different books and artifacts on the walls. "Do you know why I brought you here today?" he peered over the tops of his glasses down at me

"Not entirely, sir." I responded, shifting uncomfortably

"I wanted to talk about yesterday evening."

"I'm sorry, sir." my head fell "I know I really messed up a very important night. I honestly didn't mean it."

He shook his head "No, Mister Evans. I want you to tell me about when you found professor Snape in the dungeons."

I stayed silent, looking down at my feet. There were still small stains of blood on my socks from the night before. "What do you want to know?"

"Can you tell me how you found professor Snape?"

"Well," I said sheepishly "I was running to the Slytherin common room. I had just made Felicity fall onto the floor, and I was embarrassed. When I got into the dungeons, I sort of fell to the floor in tears. I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, and it was professor Snape."

He nodded, "Did you see anyone else there?"

"No, sir. When I found professor Snape, I didn't even take a second to look around. I ran right over to him to see if he was okay. I didn't hear anyone in the halls, so whoever did it must have already left by the time I got there."

"Do you remember what spell you used to heal professor Snape?"

I bit my lip, trying to think of something quickly on the spot, "No, sir. I tried to remember a spell I had read about in the library, but I don't know what it was. It was just...a lucky guess."

Dumbledore closed his eyes in deep thought "Is there anything else you can remember? Did he say anything to you when you approached him?"

"No, sir. He couldn't speak."

"Very well," he held his arm out towards the door "You may go."

I slowly stood up and headed to the door, my head was hanging low with the overwhelming feeling of shame.