The White Knight

After half an hour of George adding microscopic additions around the hairline cracks to reinforce the sentient mind's damage, he finally heard the 'angelic' voice he had grown so accustomed to in the bathroom.

"What on earth is that racket?", Myrtle screeched after exiting the toilet bowl.

Since George was still in the middle of delicately repairing the Letter Opener, he kept his eyes firmly locked on the hairline cracks as he spoke.

"That, Miss Warren, is the latest rock music from across the pond. I knew you would love it", George said whimsically.

"I hate it. I thought I told you never to play any of this stupid rock music, it's just noise", Myrtle bellowed whilst flying beside George.

Her voice was loud enough to cause him to flinch, George had to temporarily stop his work before Myrtle lost her rag. He pressed the pause button so he didn't have to shout over the music.

Then he looked at her, "look, I know it's not your cup of tea but could you at least let me listen until the end of the tape? It was a present from my mother so I just wanted to listen to it at least once. I promise that you will not have to hear it ever again."

To his surprise, Myrtle's annoyed expression faded astonishingly fast, "ok, you can keep playing your music."

Somewhat dazed, George asked honestly, "are you sure?"

Myrtle nodded calmly, "yep. It'll be nice to listen to something different for a change."

George reached over and pressed the play button and was surprised to see Myrtle listening as if her taste in music had suddenly changed. Whilst she was bobbing her head along with the beat, George wondered what exactly could have caused this phenomenon. He recited every word he'd said to her back in his head and he could only find one excuse that he hadn't used before, his foster mother.

George went back to reinforcing the Letter Opener, but he slowed his pace so he could also concentrate on talking to Myrtle as well.

Whilst creating another ball of fire, he asked her nonchalantly, "my mum likes music, she has a massive collection of albums back at home. We would sit around the record player for hours and she would tell me all about the bands. Did you ever listen to music with your mother?"

George took a subtle glance at Myrtle and saw her transparent face twitch after hearing his question. He continued compressing the ball of fire into the cracks whilst waiting for a response. He didn't want to appear intrusive or forceful if this topic was normally repressed for her. Eventually, Myrtle spoke quietly whilst staring at the boom box.

"Nobody has ever asked me that before. I haven't thought about…her for a long time", she mumbled.

George kept the questioning open and nonintrusive, "well, that's a shame. If your mother is anything like mine then she should be worth remembering. I think about my mum every day, I can't wait to go home and see her again at Christmas."

Myrtle didn't react except for reaching toward the boom box. She ran her fingers along the aluminium housing as if she could feel it. Her expression looked at peace for once as a gentle smile formed on her face.

"Father bought a record player for my mother before he left to fight in the war. Mother and I would listen to music and sing along whenever we missed father, she would also sing to me before I went to bed. There was one song my mother used to sing all the time to cheer me up, she knew every word by heart. It's been so long... I've forgotten the words", Myrtle said solemnly.

The final song on the cassette ended and the bathroom fell silent. Myrtle kept staring at the boom box with a downhearted expression. Then George had an idea that involved using his archive memory to its fullest.

He finished merging the solidified flame and looked at Myrtle, "can you remember what the song was about?"

Myrtle looked up at him and asked glumly, "why?"

"I might know it", George responded.

"I doubt that. The song must be over fifty years old", she retorted.

"Just indulge me. If I don't know it then you can rub my stupidity in my face", he shot back.

Myrtle smirked a little, "alright then. It had something to do with saying goodbye and being happy. I think it was from a movie, but I…"

George didn't need any more, he already knew what song it must have been considering the time Myrtle was alive and the popular songs of the late nineteen-thirties. He took a deep breath in and started singing, interrupting Myrtle's monologue.

"Wish me luck, as you wave me goodbye. Cheerio, here I go on my way. Wish me luck, as you wave me goodbye. With a cheer, not a tear, make it gay. Give me a smile, I can keep all the while. In my heart while I'm away. Till we meet once again, you and I. Wish me luck, as you wave me goodbye", George sang out of tune.

He'd never heard the song sung before and only knew the written lyrics so he had to guess the tempo. He just tried to mimic Vera Lynn's way of singing and hoped for the best. George must have been pretty bad because Myrtle had started tearing up towards the end. Blue crystal-like tears fell from her face and pitter-pattered off the ground before disappearing. He was hoping to get a smile out of Myrtle, but his plan seemed to have massively backfired.

George anxiously said, "sorry for the atrocious singing, I must have butchered that song. I had no idea that my singing was so bad that I could reduce someone to tears. I'll promise to never sing again if..."

"It was perfect, just like mother used to... *Sniff*. Thank you for helping me remember, it has been so long since... *Sniff*. Oh, look at me. I'll just leave you to your work", Myrtle said whilst snivelling.

And before George could process what had just happened, Myrtle wiped away her tears with a big smile on her face and flew down the toilet with a splash. It seemed that George's performance might have been a little too effective. Regardless, his singing had provided him with an opportunity to work with no distractions. Therefore, George spent the rest of the afternoon reinforcing every crack on the fire stick without interruption until the Halloween feast began.

Once George heard the Hogwarts clock chime six times, he knew that his time was up. The current condition of Darth Vader's Letter Opener would have to do. He looked down at his craftsmanship and saw the crystalline scabs covering the cracks. The sentience had fallen silent and the temperature was tolerable. George placed the Letter Opener in his pocket and walked over to the tiled wall.

He held a portion of his robe against the wall and said, "Lapis Illusio!", whilst waving his wand with his spare hand.

Starting from the fabric in contact with the wall, George's robes started to change in appearance to mimic the smooth tiles. After two seconds passed, there was no distinction between the robes and the wall. George almost looked like he was wearing an invisibility cloak as his hands appeared to be floating in the air. He leaned over and sniffed the robe and found it smelt just as damp as the wall did, there was no distinction.

This was George's contingency if something went wrong during the fight. The troll wouldn't be able to see or smell him no matter how hard it tried. The fire stick hadn't been his sole project, he'd set aside an hour each day to practise the Disillusionment charm he had procured from Flitwick. Over a month's worth of work allowed George to easily modify the texture, smell and appearance of an object within a few seconds.

George pulled his robe away from the wall and it changed back to its normal black fabric appearance. The spell stopped working the moment he lost contact with the object being mimicked. Finally, he packed away the boom box and headed out of the girl's bathroom. George did call out to Myrtle one last time, just to say goodbye, but he received no response. Since he was on such a strict timetable, George didn't wait any longer and left the girl's bathroom to head toward the Great Hall.

He walked to the entrance of the hall and saw hundreds of students excitedly entering and finding their seats. Somewhat inspired by his first-ever time sleeping outside the dormitory, George climbed up a large stone pillar over four stories tall until he reached the rafters. Because this was the ground floor of the castle, the rafters were made up of humongous wooden beams that were over three feet wide. This gave George a nice bird's-eye view above the hall's entrance and a place to have a picnic whilst he waited.

George pulled out of a few snacks he'd reserved from the past few meals. He had collected; sausage rolls, pork pies, scotch eggs, quiche sandwiches and scones filled with thick cream and jam, all stored away in ziplock bags. George pulled them out of the individually sealed plastic bags and laid them out in front of him on a quilt with silver cutlery from home. To add the finishing touch, George pulled out his wand and used the Engorgement charm to increase the size of each snack by over five times.

Only now did the portion sizes meet George's demanding specifications, he couldn't fight on an empty stomach. Just before he was about to take his first bite, he heard a familiar snigger from below him and looked over the edge. The snigger was from none other than Draco who was walking into the Great Hall with Crab and Goyle beside him. They were teasing a girl in front of them by sticking something on her back without her knowing.

George had never had a chance to 'thank' Drako for pushing him over all those weeks ago since he'd been avoiding all Slytherins. He scooped a good helping of thick cream from his scone with his finger and flicked it down at Draco. His aim did not fail him as the cream splatted directly on top of Draco's greasy white hair. George quickly hid behind the rafter and waited for his reward.

A few moments later, George could hear Draco yelping, "is that… *Gip*. Owls… *Gip*. I'm gonna be sick. Where's the nearest bathroom, you idiots!?"

The next thing George heard was the evil trio running off in the opposite direction of the Great Hall whilst Draco sounded like he was about to throw up. George felt there was nothing quite like revenge to aid digestion as he bit down into a massive sausage roll, missing out on the Halloween Feast wasn't so bad after all.

After an hour had passed and George had eaten the entirety of his picnic thirty feet off the ground, he heard the sound of frantic footsteps running from the direction of the dungeons towards him. George carefully looked over the side of the rafter and saw a man with a large purple turban frantically running towards the entrance of the Great Hall, he looked very pale and was panting for air like he was about to pass out.

Quirrell pushed the Great Hall's doors wide open and ran into the hall, George knew that this was his cue to leave. He slid down the stone pillar like a fireman's pole and immediately started running towards a specific girl's bathroom.

He could faintly hear the words, "troll in the dungeons!", being shouted from behind him as he rounded a corner.

George arrived outside of the girl's bathroom and took a minute to adjust his robes and hair. He pulled out his little mirror and looked at his reflection as he went through a range of emotions from empathy to anger, mourning to jubilation. The last face George made was the gentle smile one would show a beloved family member they hadn't met in a while. Then he put the mirror away, opened the double doors large enough to let a troll inside, and walked into the girl's bathroom.

He was purposely light on his feet so he didn't give away his presence. His silence allowed him to pick up on the whimpering coming from the only locked cubicle in the row. George looked around and was happy to see the walls looked identical to Myrtle's bathroom so he wouldn't have any trouble using his Disillusionment charm. He walked right up to the cubicle door and slowly reached into his sack to pull out the vase of flowers he'd obtained earlier today.

George then cleared his throat, "excuse me, Miss. I don't mean to invade your privacy but you wouldn't happen to have seen one Hermione Granger. There are some, such as myself, who are very concerned for her well-being and just want to know that she's ok."

The whimpering stopped immediately and was followed by a brief pause before Hermione said, "George?"

George answered in an exaggeratedly surprised tone, "ah, Hermione. I finally found you, thank Heavens. I was hesitant to check any of the girls' bathrooms but after four hours of searching… Anyway, I found you now so all is well."

There was another pause before Hermione asked whilst quietly snivelling, "you, *sniff* you've been looking for me?"

George eloquently spewed out his concocted narrative, "of course I have. I was worried when I saw you hadn't attended the flying lesson. Luckily, Neville was there to explain what had happened. He told me that you were probably upset after something Ron had said to you earlier today. To make sure you were alright, I wanted to check up on you and that's what got me started on this wild goose chase."

Hermione listened to his fabrication before insisting, "well, you wasted your time. As you can see, I'm perfectly fine so you can leave."

George chuckled before retorting, "as I can see. Are you joking? What I can see is an old green door. On the other hand, I can hear a very upset girl who needs cheering up."

"I don't need cheering up, thank you very much. Now you should leave before I report you for sneaking into the girl's bathroom", Hermione said sternly.

"That's not a very nice thing to say to someone who's brought you a gift", George said jovially.

"A gift, for me?", Hermione sounded surprised

She tried to hide her curiosity before saying unperturbed, "what is it?"

George heard large wooden doors open behind him and smelt a terrible odour making its way into the bathroom, but he didn't turn around. Judging by the troll's meandering pace, George had another twenty seconds before he would have to react.

"I'm not telling. You'll have to come out and see for yourself", George said teasingly.

"Fine, have it your way", Hermione said whilst opening the cubicle door in a huff.

"But don't expect me to…", her words were caught in the back of her throat as she stared in George's direction, more specifically the area directly above and behind him.

Whilst acting ignorant of the imminent threat, George sarcastically said, "I knew you would like them, Professor Sprout helped me pick them. Quite literally breathtaking it seems, but I don't blame you, the roses actually smell of…".

"George! Shut up and turn around right now!", Hermione interrupted him with a shrill scream.

Hermione's shouting appeared to have drawn the troll's attention as George heard the footsteps speed up towards him. He turned around to see the humongous mountain troll lifting its club ready to strike. George instantly turned back around and grabbed Hermione with his spare arm and lifted her as if she was a weightless sack of potatoes.

Whilst she was screaming in his embrace, George leapt to the right as the club came hurtling towards the ground. He landed over six yards away from the impact point, he could feel the ground shake from beneath his feet as the club shattered the tiled floor. Then he locked eyes with Hermione and forced the vase of flowers into her hands. She didn't resist as her attention was still on the troll lifting its club off the ground.

George authoritatively shouted at her, "take these flowers and run, they will mask your scent from the troll. Go now and get help from the professors."

His loud voice was enough to get her attention back on him. She took a second to process what he'd asked of her and she didn't look pleased.

Hermione regained some composure and insisted, "what about you? You're not planning on staying here, are you?"

George turned around and pointed toward the troll, "that thing Is currently blocking the only exit out of the bathroom. We're only first years, we can't take on a troll on our own. I'll distract it so you can leave unnoticed."

Hermione's eyes went wide with anger, "there's no way I'm leaving you alone with that thing, it'll kill you."

By that point in time, the troll had lifted its club and was ready to strike at them again, George no longer had the time for a civilised discussion with her.

"I wasn't giving you a choice", he said to her before he started running.

George ran back over to the cubicles whilst shouting, "over here! Over here!"

The troll looked between Hermione and George with a dull and confused expression on its face. George sealed his fate by summoning a ball of fire in his hand and throwing it at its ugly face, the flame briefly shrouded the troll's head. The flame quickly vanished revealing a partially burnt eyebrow and a little ash left on one of the troll's cheeks. This must have angered the troll as it focused its gaze on George. It was winding up for another swing except this time it was going to swing horizontally.

George lept backwards, deeper into the bathroom, to avoid the attack. The swing knocked out three of the cubicles, sending bucket loads of wooden shrapnel in George's direction. He reacted quickly as he covered his face with his arms. The chunks of wood ripped open his robes and collided with his chest and forearms. Luckily, the shards were small enough to only cause a few small cuts and bruises. The troll noticed that its swing missed and advanced towards him, creating an easy path for Hermione to escape.

George looked past the troll at Hermione and shouted as loud as he could, "RUN, NOW!!!"

His voice boomed across the room and startled both Hermione and the troll. Even George wasn't expecting to produce such a volume, he'd managed to make his own ears ring. The metallic flavour at the back of his throat confirmed he wouldn't be able to do that again without spitting up blood. The thundering voice appeared to be intimidating enough to remove any reluctance in Hermione as she immediately ran out of the bathroom whilst hugging the vase.