Bunches of love to all of my awesome reviewers! Hope you all enjoy the update!
Chapter Seven
Taking Herbology alone eerily reminded Harry of working in the Dursleys' garden…except these plants could kill him. Professor Sprout clearly felt useless without a whole class of students and hovered around him repeating directions until it got to be more annoying than the Creevy brothers.
Not only that, but the work was surprisingly exhausting, more so than he'd remembered it ever being. Finally, Harry's arms felt too feeble and he'd asked to leave early.
Professor Sprout looked deeply concerned and insisted upon escorting him up to the hospital wing.
Madam Pomfrey didn't seem surprised to see him, and began fluttering around him making sure nothing was wrong.
"You've just exhausted yourself, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey declared finally, then she began ranting quietly while she prepared something, "I tried to tell that man you still weren't up for it…never mind my medical license…knows his limits, does he?"
Harry flushed and stared down at his dirty hands, he hadn't been able to clean himself up.
"Here," Madam Pomfrey said, "drink this."
Harry took it and studied it, "What is it?"
"A very mild sleeping and restorative draught," Madam Pomfrey replied, "you'll wake up in about 30 minutes and feel much better."
Harry took the potion.
Harry woke up sometime later and after Madam Pomfrey checked him over once more she sent him on his way, with a note excusing him from History of Magic. Not that Harry knew why she'd bothered, Dumbledore probably already knew he was in the hospital wing before Madam Pomfrey did.
Harry decided to take his things up to the tower before dinner so he wouldn't have to carry his heavy bag around after dinner. Once there, Harry waited for Ron and Hermione to come up and once they'd arrived and dropped their things off, the three of them headed down to dinner.
"Potter!"
Harry turned to see Malfoy rushing toward him, face red with rage.
"Where were you?" Malfoy demanded, "How dare you leave me alone with that man?"
This reminded Harry of Madam Pomfrey's earlier rant when she too referred to Dumbledore as "that man."
"For once, it's nothing personal," Harry replied, "I was ill and had to go to the hospital wing!"
Malfoy didn't seem impressed, "Well, you look fine to me!"
"Because I've been to the hospital wing!" Harry insisted, "Pomfrey-"
"Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore's calm voice interjected and Malfoy immediately scurried away as fast as his legs could carry him. Dumbledore watched Malfoy in confusion before walking up to Harry and asking, "Are you quite all right, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, sir," Harry replied, and he dug his excuse out from his pocket before handing it over to Dumbledore, "Sorry, I missed class."
"Oh, I'm sure it was for the best," Dumbledore assured him, "You know, in my early years of teaching I found it so difficult to get the proper amount of sleep, so I was in a constant state of exhaustion. Finally, when I began seeing Cornish pixies taunting me about my unimaginative, black teaching robes, I took a massive dose of a sleeping potion and slept for four days straight. However, I continued to attend every class and meal due to sleep-walking…it was most peculiar that no one noticed…Finally, I awoke during one of my transfigurations courses, only to discover I was lecturing on the different types of shoes worn in the orient. It was ever so embarrassing, and it is best to remain well-rested to avoid such situations."
Harry blinked in confusion and replied, "I'll do my best, sir?"
Dumbledore twinkled and added, "And do try to expand your wardrobe a bit, my dear boy, cheerful robes make for a cheerful man."
Dumbledore then swept off to his spot at the head table and Hermione grabbed Harry's arm to lead him off to the Gryffindor table.
That Thursday, Harry received a response from Remus who cheerfully commented on all that Harry had written, and added in advice where necessary. Remus also shared a funny story about a recent trip to the grocery which made Harry snicker until Hermione plucked the letter from his hand to see what was so funny. Harry quickly wrote off a response and sent it off with Hedwig who stopped by for a bit of Harry's breakfast.
Later that day, after a much easier Herbology lesson, Harry was able to make it to History of Magic and the relief was clear on Malfoy's face, until Dumbledore walked into the classroom and settled down with a heavy sigh, he then looked between Harry and Malfoy with dull, disappointed eyes.
"It has come to my attention that my stories have led to a physical altercation between the two of you," Dumbledore sighed wearily.
Harry and Malfoy exchanged a confused look.
"Hagrid told me that you hexed Mr. Potter," Dumbledore continued when neither reacted.
"He deserved it," Malfoy replied.
"And this scuffle began because of one of my stories?"
"Yes, sir," Harry replied, "Malfoy-"
"Draco," Dumbledore corrected gently.
"-doesn't like to hear about some of the subject matter you've seen fit to cover in class," Harry replied, "and I was trying to discuss the matter with him, and he got fairly defensive."
"I understand," Dumbledore said, good cheer returning quickly, "why it wasn't so long ago that I was a young sprout like yourselves, sunning in the garden of life. The world was my oyster…until one day I came upon my parents and they were, how shall I say…playing chess! My mother had my father in…check and I was so horrified by what I'd seen that I had an uncontrolled magical outburst and…well…my parents were never able to play chess again. In conclusion boys, there's nothing wrong with being frightened or disturbed by the act of…playing chess, just make sure that you don't bring your wand along to the…chess tournament."
Malfoy didn't seem comforted by this, and Harry was extremely confused as he'd never really been good at chess.
"Now," Dumbledore said brightly, "we will begin discussing Merlin today, not much is known about Merlin's early life, though conjectures have been made-I'm sure this is because, like myself, Merlin had a habit of getting himself into trouble. Why before my 20th birthday, I'd gotten into more scrapes and mishaps than I care to mention."
Dumbledore began chuckling at the fond memories of his youth, "Once, after challenging my brother to a broomstick race, I crashed into a cave and was kept there by a rather matronly dragon, who reminds me quite strongly of Madam Pomfrey-do refrain from telling her I said that-and in an effort to keep me warm during the cold nights in the cave, the dragon accidentally set fire to my robe. I was left with a rather large and intricate scar on my leg…and upon my first visit to London in 1915, I realized that my scar was a perfect duplicate of the map of the London Underground!"
Harry and Malfoy stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief.
"Would you boys like to see?" Dumbledore asked as he began hiking up his robes, revealing his hairy calves.
"No!"
"It's really not-hey, that's actually pretty cool, it's even got all the stops on it!"
"Why are they all different colors?" Malfoy queried.
"Why, Mr. Malfoy, for all the different lines," Dumbledore explained, "they're color coded!"
"Ingenious!" Malfoy said in amazement, "the things those muggles think up!"
After class, when Harry and Malfoy were hiding in the alcove, Harry admitted, "That was probably the least creepy class we've had…"
"I should have hexed you sooner, Potter," Malfoy informed him. "I always knew good things would come from hexing you."
Harry rolled his eyes and countered, "I bet even better things would come from me hexing you-should we find out?"
"You hex me and I'll tell my mother!"
Harry snorted, "What happened to telling your father? You always used to threaten to tell him."
"He's not the one that sends you gifts," Draco sniffed haughtily, "and what would you do if mother didn't send you a gift?"
"Probaby noth-"
"Probably fling yourself off the astronomy tower!" Malfoy corrected, "You have a most unbecoming flair for the dramatic, Potter!"
"I have the flair for the dramatic?" Harry exclaimed in disbelief, "What sort of dream-world are you living in, Malfoy?"
"Ah, boys, I found you!" Dumbledore exclaimed happily, and joined them in alcove. Malfoy, let out a little choked scream, and in his haste to escape ran straight into the wall and fell unconscious and bloody-nosed to the floor.
"Looks like we have to take Malfoy-"
"Draco," Dumbledore reminded him, gently.
"-to the hospital wing immediately, wouldn't want him bloodying his robes!"
"They are rather nice robes," Dumbledore agreed thoughtfully, "indeed, Mr. Potter, you're quite right, I'll just have to give you two your reading assignment once he's all healed up."
Dumbledore looked up to Harry for visual confirmation, only to find that Harry was gone.
"Hmm," Dumbledore mumbled, "he must've had class."
"It must be so fascinating to have Dumbledore as your History of Magic professor!" Hermione gushed to Harry while they were in Care of Magical creatures.
"Yeah, something like that," Harry muttered.
"What has he been lecturing over?" Hermione asked, "Grindelwald? The first rise of You-know-who? Why he could tell you all the history of the past century from experience alone!"
"Well, he doesn't" Harry replied, "we've been supposed to cover Merlin for the last few weeks, and he gets side-tracked and tells us things we don't really want to know. Then he forgets to assign reading and we run and hide so he can't find-"
"And now we have to find a new alcove! Potter, why are you always so loud!" Malfoy whined melodramatically, "He'll be waiting for us next week and there will be no escape! Have your eyes always been that color? You've ruined us, Potter! What's the matter with you!"
"What?" Harry demanded, "what about my eyes?"
"Have they always been that color or have you been getting attacked by Hufflepuffs armed with color-changing spells?" Malfoy demanded.
"I've always had green eyes," Harry replied, clearly confused, "what does that have to do with Dumbledore?"
"Nothing!" Malfoy growled, "Are you always this slow?"
"Harry's not slow," Hermione interjected, "well, not normally…actually, yes, he is."
"Hermione?" Harry exclaimed, "Why-"
"Betrayed by your own kind!" Malfoy cackled, "How poetic, you should keep better company."
"Like Crabbe and Goyle?" Harry countered scornfully.
"I'm maybe not the best example," Malfoy conceded, "but nonetheless, you should keep better company, you seem-"
"What?" Harry asked suddenly curious.
"I don't know," Malfoy replied, tilting his head thoughtfully, "let me think about it."
Malfoy didn't speak to him for the rest of the week.
