A/N: Hi, Hi what's up? Again me and my sisters (I got two) made up this scenario and I fic-ified it! Enjoy and Review!!
Discliamer: sometimes at night, I wished I could be J.K., I really I do, But sadly I didn't create these marvelous characters, and I don't spend my time making million dollar deals with Scholatic and Warner Bros., instead I spend it here, the people in charge of 11:11 wishes are cruel! :'-(
Why We Need Madame Pomfrey
Ron lazily strutted into the great hall, one morning. He had just sat down to the slow September breakfast in the mist of the Gryffindores' forth year. Just as he was about to yawn out good mornings to his two friends, the entry way burst out with the sound of an argument.
Madame Pomfrey bustled in with Dumbledore on her heels. Both seemed to be very determined, but Madame Pomfrey had a crazed look in her eyes.
"Poppy! Really!" Dumbledore called after her in exasperation.
"No Albus, no. I said no and I mean it!"
"Please reconsider. Without you this all is ruined."
"Good!" she screeched, "I'm glad, when you told me about this cockamamie idea, I was worried from the start! But you said, oh no, only 17 and up. And then you showed me that!" she motioned out to something in the air, "And I don't care Albus, there's no way a student, even one at the top of their seventh year could get passed those… those… things alive!" she flailed her arms in hysterics.
"Poppy I'm not saying they be getting out of these tasks scoff free, but certainly they'll live! And that's why we need you!"
"But what about what I need this is more work then I've had to in years! And I haven't even had recognition for any of it!"
"Oh Poppy now your being ridiculous!"
"Well. Albus, I'm sick- sick and tired of it all!" Harry noticed that Madame Pomfrey's hair was beginning to frizz in anger, much like Hermione's did when she was angry, and he had to chuckle to himself. That was her final word and she turned to the doors and began to walk.
"Poppy, get your bodice out of the twist it's in and come to your senses!" Dumbledore lost all sense of delicacy.
She stopped dead at his words and turned slowly to face him, "Insulting my bodice are you?! That is the last straw!!"
"Poppy, please!" McGonagall stood from her chair at the staff table.
"I'm sorry, goodbye Minerva," she stopped McGonagall's plea. Then flicked her wand, and confidently took the handles of the old carpet bag that suddenly floated in the air before her, and bustled from the room, leaving everything motionless and silent for a second. McGonagall blinked between Professor Dumbledore and the doors Madame Pomfrey just exited from, mouth slightly agate, until she finally walked quickly after her.
Dumbledore stepped slowly to the staff table at complete lost for words.
"Well," he began all eyes looked to him, "So it seems we've lost our healer, until we find another, or until Madame Pomfrey has a change of heart, I suggest we all do our best to stay out of any scrapes that we can avoid." At these words he lingered his gaze on Harry, Ron, and Hermione for just a moment.
As he stepped down and left the room, the students were abuzz with the fresh news at hand, some even followed the professors in hopes of catching more of the drama.
Neville sat across from the trio, and looked mortified.
"Neville you okay, mate?" Ron noticed his traumatized stare. He leaned across the table snapping his fingers in front of his face to release him from this trance. Neville shook back to reality.
"I was just thinking, with out Madame Pomfrey, Snape's not even going to let me into the classroom for potions."
"And that's a bad thing because?..." Ron said incredulously raising his eyebrows.
"Well you heard Dumbledore we shouldn't try to get in any kind of trouble," Hermione interjected putting down her book and took a sip of her orange juice, and put down her glass saying nonchalantly, " Especially you two." Then eyed she them with her patented You-Know-What-I-Mean look.
"What?" Ron turned to her, "we're not that bad." Ron laughed, "Honestly, I can understand Harry but do you think we get in scrapes that easily?"
Hermione looked as if she had been waited to answer that question; her stare wore down his laugh. Ron sensed trouble.
"Well let's look at the evidence." She smiled. Hermione ducked under her seat, and returned with a small composition notebook, "Would you like the long list or the short list?"
"What are you crazy?" Ron looked at the book in horror.
"Hang on Hermione," Harry was trying to comprehend it fully, "Have you been recording our injuries all these years?"
"Well, not at first, it started out as a diary in first year but after Halloween that's kind of what it turned into. So any how long or short?"
"Do we have to?" Ron whined.
"Just for that I'm reading the long list." Hermione decided, she flicked the cover open and read.
"Let's see, Halloween, troll in the bathroom, need I say more? Harry all but swallowed his first snitch, not to mention was almost bucked off his broom. Oh Ron, of course you'll remember Norbert, from that scar he left on your wrist," she said brightly, as Ron tried to discretely pulled the mentioned hand under the table and a shade of pink spread through his ears, "There was the detention in the Forbidden Forest, that was trouble enough. And the highlight of the year, the journey to the sorcerer's stone, which included escaping a giant three-headed dog named fluffy, almost being strangled by Devil's Snare, nearly pecked apart by flying keys, and let's not forget the part when Ron was knocked unconscious, by a chess piece."
"Well when you say it like that, it sounds like an accident." Ron defended his case meekly, Harry sputtered quietly on his other side.
"And you," Hermione looked directly to Harry; he stopped his laughter abruptly, "got away from Quirrell by the miraculous chance that he turn to ashes at your touch." She finished.
"Well that was fun but now that that's over-" Ron started to stand.
"Actually," Hermione clutched his arm and forced back down, "That was only first year," she said with a devious grin as she turned the page, "That was only first year."
"Oh, come on!"
"YOU two," she intruded his plea loudly to ignore him, "decided to ring in the new school year by flying a car into the Womping Willow! The impact broke your wand, Ron, which is why later you spent three days belching slugs. A house elf sent a rogue bludger on Harry the first Quidditch game of the season and he broke his arm. But that didn't mater, seeing as he spent the night in the hospital wing regrowing the bones in said arm, since Lockhart magically removed them!"
"And you fancied him," Ron snickered.
Hermione paused to glare at him. "Millicent Bulstrode was on the verge of ripping my head off at that catastrophic dueling club. While I was petrified, you boys were almost eaten again but by spiders the size of classrooms," Ron twitched, "In the chamber of secrets once again thanks to Ron's broken wand Lockhart almost obliterated you and trapped in there giving you a few good scraps and left him mindless. You-Know-Who's memory almost throttled you to death, when you killed the basilisk that also bit your arm, and would have done you in if not for Fawkes. And the whole time Ginny was possessed. Oh and you also got a nasty bump on your head when the Sword of Gryffindor fell out of the sorting hat."
"How'd she even know that, she wasn't bloody unpetrified until at least two days later?" Ron whispered to Harry.
"I told you it was the long version," Hermione answered the rhetorical question. Then she turned the page a last time, in sync with two harmonized groans of agony.
"Last year, Harry, you fainted on the train because of the dementors, who later caused you to fall off your broom in the first Quidditch match, which shattered into a thousand pieces when it flew into the Whomping Willow. Sirius broke your leg in four places, Ron, and the Whomping Willow beat us half to death following you. Lupin turned into a werewolf and Sirius, Harry and I were almost soulless, when in the nick of time the future Harry and I showed up and saved the day, that's also why Harry and I are 12 hours older then we ought to be." Hermione closed the book and looked over to them, "Do you see my point?"
"Hang on why does it feel like you miss something?" Harry asked thoughtfully.
"Harry!" Ron hissed through his teeth, "Now she gonna reread the list!"
"I am not!" Hermione hit Ron on the shoulder, "Because I did not forget to put anything in." she defended as if she were trying to convince them.
"No, no Harry's right you missed something," Ron waved her off and began to count on his fingers. Suddenly he smacked the table triumphantly, turning to Hermione with bright eyes and called out, "Cat girl!"
"What are you talking about," she tried to be oblivious, but she turned far to pale for her act to be plausible.
"You know what!" Ron grinned at her act, "When you put the cat hair in the Polyjuice potion in second year!"
"Yeah and she got all that fur all over her face, and the little black ears sticking out of her hair!" Harry reminisced with a chuckle. Hermione grew whiter by the second.
"And the pointed teeth!"
"The yellow eyes!"
"And that Tail!" the boys said in unison, which put them into fits of laughter.
"OH! Shut up!" Hermione was now the one with the look of regret.
"Ah, come off it Hermione." Ron wiped the water that formed at the edge of his eye.
"Yeah, it wasn't all that bad for you. I remember sometimes when we would come to visit; you would asleep all curled up on your pillow purring."
"Oh yeah it was somewhat endearing," Ron remembered fondly but than added, "Until you woke up."
"Thanks Ron," Hermione muttered.
"Or the times you would randomly start cleaning your face!" Harry pointed out.
"Then for a week after you got out of the Hospital Wing you hissed at all the Slytherins in the halls at passing period!" Ron finally got a twitched grin out of her.
"Now really Hermione it was a careless mistake, that resulted in a trip to the infirmary. It should be in the list." Harry reasoned.
"No, no it doesn't fit the qualifications." Hermione said stiffly.
"Excuse me, what?" Ron changed to a tone of surprise, "You spent a week in bed coughing up fur balls, because of a fluke in a potion! How does it not fit?" he took the note book from Hermione's guarding hands, "This doesn't get put away 'til that's written in!"
"No, but it's… it's-" Hermione searched for the right word to prove her case, "Different."
"Hermione give it up," Ron exclaimed, "the only difference the rest of the embarrassing stuff in here and that is that it only happened to you! Its okay that Harry passed out on his broom in the air,
or that I spent three days belching slugs, but Merlin forbid that you grow a tail!"
"Alright, fine Ron fine!" Hermione took up her quill and scribbled in the description of the accident, on the second year page. Then she turned it over for the boys to see clearly, "Happy now?"
"Very much," Ron's demeanor immediately brighten at the sight of the revision.
"Much better!" Harry agreed.
"Now, Hermione do you see what happens when you do unnecessary recording?" Ron asked sympathetically.
"Yes," Hermione replied very exasperated, "Wait! You two were supposed to learn the lesson not me!" she realized.
"Yeah, but do we ever?" Ron asked truthfully.
"Nope!" Harry answered proudly.
"Miss Granger!" Hermione, Ron and Harry turned to see a very flustered version of Professor McGonagall marching toward them.
"Yes, Professor?"
"That book you had a moment ago, may I see it please?"
"Oh yes," Hermione quickly handed the injury list to McGonagall.
The professor leafed the pages of the journal than faced the confused students.
"I think I'm going to be borrowing this for a while Miss Granger."
"Of course," Hermione agreed, but not exactly sure to what.
As it turned out, McGonagall was able to use the notebook as a way to thank Madame Pomfrey to return and realize how much they needed her at Hogwarts. Though. Hermione wasn't thrilled, when she heard, that what really convinced Madame Pomfrey to come back was remembering treating her as a cat. But at least the school got their healer back and everyone learned to never ever poke fun at her bustle.
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