(A/N: Welcome back everyone, I still exist and haven't given up on Marigold. Sorry for the long wait between posts! I love you all! A special thank you to the amazing geneviveyoung for editing this so well on such a busy schedule. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling)

"I can't do this anymore, I'm going back to the common room."

"But Ginny, you haven't studied with us in ages," Colin protested, setting his quill down.

"There's too much commotion to study in here."

It was Saturday morning, the day after Professor Binns had told Marigold's History of Magic class about the Chamber of Secrets. She and the boys hadn't had the time to talk before bed, and this morning she was sitting in the library with Colin and Ginny studying. Well, trying to study. Ginny, who was still very pale and thin, was packing up her schoolbooks in a huff.

Ginny didn't say another word before stomping out of the library. Colin and Marigold exchanged sad glances, but went back to studying. Marigold wondered what was up with Ginny, she really wasn't herself. She wondered if Ginny was homesick, or if there was something else. Maybe it was just the stress of school, or perhaps she was homesick… Marigold hoped it was something as simple as that.

Ginny did have a point, though. Somehow, in the last twenty-four hours, the whole castle had learned what Professor Binns had told them. Because of this, the library was packed with students trying to find anything else they possibly could get their hands on. Those who weren't grabbing at books were whispering amongst themselves about the news. Madam Pince, the librarian, who looked like an underfed vulture, was doing her best to keep the library quiet, kicking students out left and right, but it didn't seem to make a dent in the noise.

Marigold and Colin were probably the only ones in the library, nay the school, who were not talking about it. But a few moments after the two of them returned to studying, Colin started tapping his foot. It wasn't much at first, but every once in a while he would pause and look up, only to shake his head and go back to schoolwork.

Marigold was just finishing up reviewing Colin's Charms homework - with her revisions he was bound to get a good grade - when she heard Colin put down his quill and not pick it up again.

With a sigh, Marigold put down her own quill and looked up into his big, brown, expectant eyes. They looked like they always did when he was about to ask a million questions.

"Go ahead," Marigold sighed, resigned to the fact that if she didn't reply to Colin now, they'd never be able to get anything done.

"Is Harry really the heir of Slytherin?"

"Is that what people are saying?" Marigold asked, bemused.

"That's not an answer."

"Oh, I don't know, Colin. I mean Salazar Slytherin lived thousands of years ago, who could even say who his descendants are." Marigold paused; Colin was absentmindedly fidgeting with his camera. He didn't take his eyes off her as she spoke. "I do know that Harry didn't do this, he was raised by Muggles. And while he might have a problem with those particular Muggles, he doesn't have a problem with other Muggles or Muggleborns."

"I figured as much. Harry seems really great." Colin looked down at his camera and wiped the lens with his robe sleeve. He didn't look up when he spoke again. "I don't really talk to him, but when I do he's nice to me. I know he's your best friend, and I don't think you would be friends with anyone bad."

Marigold didn't know what to say.

"I know you are attached to your camera, and I'm not saying don't keep it around your neck..." Marigold paused, trying to think of the best way to continue. "But, the thing is, Harry doesn't really like the attention he gets for being the Boy-Who-Lived. I think I understand what you are saying, though, Colin. If you want to talk to Harry more, just take it easy with pictures. It's not that he doesn't like your company, it's the attention that comes with getting his picture taken, or really attention drawn to him, that makes him uncomfortable."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense…"

"And Colin?"

"Yes?" Colin looked up from his camera.

"If you ever feel uneasy about the Chamber of Secrets," Marigold coughed, suddenly uncomfortable, "or if anything else bothers you, I'm not just an older student here to help you get good grades, I consider you my friend."

"Really?"

"Really."

Marigold, Harry, and Neville didn't get the chance to talk to each other until late that night. Harry had Quidditch all day in preparation for the upcoming match, and Neville and Marigold didn't talk about the Chamber of Secrets until Harry got back. Neville started, but Harry shook his head, so the three of them waited for the common room to clear out, and when it finally did, they talked in hushed whispers.

"What do you think it means?" Neville asked.

"I think it means exactly what it says it means," Marigold whispered. "I think there is a Chamber of Secrets, I think it has been opened, and I think that all Muggleborns should watch out."

"I think Marigold is right," Harry agreed.

"There's something else too," Marigold paused, unsure how to proceed. "I talked to Colin during break when I was helping him with homework. It seems, Harry, that a lot of students think you are the Heir of Slytherin."

"Well that's just great," Harry said sarcastically.

"Oh, come off it, Harry," Neville said. "We know it's not you."

"But who could it be?" Marigold pondered. "Who would want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggleborns out of Hogwarts?"

Neville and Harry gave her a knowing look.

"Please, Malfoy is all talk, he couldn't possibly be the heir."

"You heard him," Neville said, angrily. "You'll be next, Mudbloods! Nobody innocent says something gross like that."

"Neville has a point, Marigold," Harry said. "Besides, look at his family. All of them have been in Slytherin. They could easily be the heirs, just passing the key from father to son over the generations.

Marigold wasn't convinced. "A lot of families have a history of being in the same house. I mean, look at us— I mean— the Weasley's, we -they- have been in Gryffindor for ages. Besides, the person behind this isn't likely to draw attention to themselves. Making a threat this big is attention enough."

"I mean that's a fair point, but Malfoy—"

"What if we could prove it was Malfoy?" Neville asked. He had an unusual air of confidence that caused Marigold to pause.

"How do you mean?" Harry asked, oblivious to the look.

"I think I might have an idea."

"Spill it then," Harry said, eagerly.

"Snape was mentioning something in class a few weeks ago about Polyjuice Potion. I thought it would be cool to be someone else for awhile so I made mental note of it."

"It's advanced though…" Marigold said, remembering the potion herself.

"I'm confused, what is Polyjuice Potion?" Harry asked.

"Honestly, Harry, I don't like him either but you could still pay attention in class." Marigold sighed. "Polyjuice Potion turns the drinker into somebody else for a short amount of time."

"That way we could pretend to be someone from Slytherin and talk to Malfoy," Neville added. "Or honestly just sit in their common room because he's probably bragging about it to anyone who will listen."

"This whole idea is crazy," Marigold said. "I doubt Malfoy is the heir—"

"It's the only lead we've got."

Marigold wondered for a moment if they should even be looking for leads.

'Be careful — keep your friends close — it's a warning I want you to heed.'

But it was Harry; of course he was going to go looking for leads. And Marigold would follow him, if only to make sure he didn't get himself in trouble.

"Well, how do we make it then?" Harry asked.
"Well, Snape said the potion was in a book called Moste Potente Potions." Marigold sighed. "A book like that is bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library, and without a signed note from a teacher, I don't know how we could get our hands on it."

"Maybe if we say we just want to look at it for theory? Not to actually make the potions?" Neville asked.

"Who's going to be dumb enough to believe that?" Harry asked.

The three of them exchanged glances. They knew just the teacher.

Since the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, when Professor Lockhart let loose a bunch of pixies to ransack his office, he had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he had been reading passages from his books and sometimes reenacted them. Harry was unfortunately Lockhart's muse for these reenactments, so Marigold and the others had to watch as poor Harry had to play along.

Harry was hauled in front of the class during their very next lesson, this time he was a werewolf. Marigold and Neville had begged Harry to keep Lockhart happy until the three of them could talk to him. But Marigold still found it excruciating to watch her best friend embarrassed at the front of the room.

"Nice loud howl, Harry — exactly — and then — if you'll believe it, I pounced — like this — slammed him to the floor — thus — with one hand, I managed to hold him down — with my other, I put my wand to his throat — I then gathered up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm — he let out a piteous moan — go on, Harry — higher than that — good — the fur vanished — the fangs shrank — and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective — and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet.

"Homework — compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

Harry made his way back to Marigold and Neville, a pained look on his face.

"With each class it gets more and more agonizing to watch you act that stuff out." Neville whispered.

"Let's just get this done with," Harry growled.
Once everyone was out of the room, Marigold made her way up to Professor Lockhart who was messing with something in his desk. When he turned around to face them, an embarrassed blush spread across her cheeks. She immediately tried to push away her thoughts on how pretty he was, and remember he was an idiot and a terrible teacher, like she had known all year! But with an annoying flick of his hair she realized it smelled like strawberries.

"Um, Professor, sir. There was a book I wanted to get out of the library. I was reading over Gadding with Ghouls and there was something in it that I didn't understand. I think this book could help, but it's in the restricted section, so, I was hoping you could sign—" Marigold held out a piece of paper with the name of the book she needed.

"Ah, yes," Professor said, gently grabbing the piece of paper from her. "Gadding with Ghouls, possibly my favorite book. Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh, yes! It's in my top two; I also really enjoyed Voyages with Vampires!"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving one of the best students of the year with a little extra help," Lockhart said warmly, as he pulled out an enormous peacock quill.

One of the best? He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to her. One of the best? He really thought she, Marigold Rosenberg, was one of the best students of the year? Of course Hermione was good in classes, but Lockhart thought she was up there too?

"So, Harry," Lockhart said, while Marigold slipped the note into her bag. "This weekend is the first Quidditch match of the season, am I correct? Gryffindor against Slytherin, right? I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try out for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if you ever feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players…"

And with that, the blush on Marigold's cheeks disappeared, her disdain returning as Harry made an indistinct noise.

"Thank you professor, I think we should get right on this!" Marigold said, her cheerfulness now fake. Not that Lockhart seemed to notice.

Marigold grabbed Harry and Neville by the sleeves of their robes, and they left the room in a hurry.

"I can't believe it," Neville said as the three of them examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"That's because he's an idiot," Marigold said. "Not that it really matters, we got what we need, let's go."

Marigold turned to leave.

"A handsome idiot, apparently." Marigold heard Harry whisper with a giggle.

Marigold's face burned, but she didn't say anything as they entered the library. Marigold handed the note to Madam Pince, who looked at it questioningly.

"Moste Potente Potions?" she repeated suspiciously, taking the note from Marigold.

Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book. Marigold carefully put it in her bag, next to her flashing planner, and the three of them casually left the library. Well, as casually as they could after Neville nearly tripped over a chair leg, but that wasn't too alarming to Madam Pince as she was accustomed to Neville's clumsiness.

Once out of the library the three of them quickly raced back to Gryffindor tower, up the stairs, and into the empty boys dormitory. Marigold, out of breath, sat down on Neville's bed and rummaged through her bag for the book. Harry and Neville sat down on either side of her and caught their breath.

Marigold pulled out the moldy-looking book and carefully opened it. Marigold heard Neville gulp, Harry didn't say anything; Marigold didn't know what to say either. It was clear from the first damp, spotted page why it belonged in the restricted section. The three of them held their breath as Marigold gingerly flipped through the pages.

Some of the potions had effects Marigold never could have imagined, and certainly would look at in the future, purely out of curiosity of course. In addition to the gruesome outcomes, there were some very unpleasant illustrations. There was a man who seemed to have been turned inside out, and a witch with several pairs of arms sprouting out of her head. Whether these were the preferred outcomes, or just terrible side effects should the potion be made incorrectly, Marigold couldn't tell at a glance.

As Marigold thumbed through the pages, she could hear Harry and Neville reacting to the book, Neville was fidgeting and Harry seemed uncomfortable. But they didn't say anything to stop her from looking, so she continued on.

"This is it," Marigold said, finally finding the right page.

The Polyjuice Potion was at the head of the page, while the rest was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. Their looks of agony weren't lost on Marigold. Not only were they going to be breaking about a thousand school rules, but there were also real bodily risks going into this.

Marigold read over the ingredient list and instructions.

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," Marigold said, finally. "I mean, lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass are in the student store-cupboard. But a lot of these will be difficult to obtain. Powdered horn of a bicorn and the shredded skin of a boomslang are probably in Professor Snape's personal storage… but look at this…" Marigold pointed to the last ingredient.

"A bit of whoever we want to change into?" Harry asked, astonished.

"Well how else would we turn into someone else?" Marigold answered.

Neville gulped, Harry didn't look so convinced anymore.

"Look guys," Marigold said, shutting the book. "We need to really be sure we want to do this. Stealing, drinking bits of another person, possible disfiguration… Are you sure—"

"It's the only way to see if Malfoy is the Heir of Slytherin," Harry interrupted.

Marigold only nodded. She could tell there was no changing his mind. She felt slightly frustrated that Harry was being so stubborn. She was almost certain that it was someone else. Malfoy was all blather and no action. She looked to Neville.

"Nev?"

There was a long pause before Neville spoke. "I'm in." It had been his idea, after all.

"Ok, well now that we have that settled, there are a few things we need to figure out first."

"Like what?" Harry asked, moving to his own bed.

"Well, I have an idea on how to get the ingredients we need, but we're going to need to find a place where we can brew this potion without being found. We can't exactly brew it here in Gryffindor tower."

"Well, why not? The boy's dormitory is pretty empty on the weekends," Harry said.

"For one, the potion takes about a month to—"

"A Month?" Neville squeaked.

"Neville's right, Marigold. Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggleborns in the school by then!" Harry said urgently. Marigold shot him an exasperated glance. "But it's the only plan we've got, so let's keep our eyes open for something."

Marigold fought the urge to roll her eyes. She also fought the feeling that they might be wasting a month's worth of time. Harry had a point, in a roundabout way; whoever was doing this could attack half the Muggleborns in the time it took them to brew the potion. And if it turned out to be someone other than Malfoy, like she was almost sure it was, then they could potentially be wasting this month. But at the same time, this was the only lead they had.

"What's the other thing we need to figure out?" Neville asked.

"Well, I guess it's two parts to the same question. One, who are we going to turn into, and how are we going to keep them out of the way while we talk to Malfoy?"

Marigold woke up early Saturday morning, only to realize that it was the day of the Quidditch match, and Harry must have been up for hours already. She waited for Neville to get up, thinking about their plans and what to do about things.

Neville came downstairs at about nine, and the two of them made their way to breakfast. They spotted Harry with the rest of the Gryffindor team. One look at their solemn faces and Marigold suddenly remembered what they were up against. In the commotion of the last few weeks, she had completely forgotten about the fight on the grounds and the fact that the Slytherin team had the fastest brooms on the market.

Marigold and Neville walked over and wished Harry luck, before making their way to the Quidditch stadium with the rest of the school. Marigold sat next to Colin, who had his camera around his neck and was already snapping at everything that moved, which unfortunately for Marigold, included several candid pictures of her.

It was a little while before the Slytherin team walked out onto the pitch, green robes billowing behind them, sleek brooms glistening bright enough to see from the stands. In the stands across from where they were seated, the Slytherins erupted into cheers and whistles.

Moments later, the Gryffindor team walked onto the pitch, their scarlet robes and older brooms a stark contrast. Marigold found Harry right away; he was the only one with a decent broom, and the smallest of the lot to boot.

Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, observed as Captains Flint and Wood shook hands.

"On my whistle," Madam Hooch's voice boomed around the stadium. "Three… two… one…"

Her breath caught in her throat as cheers erupted around her, and all fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry rocketed above all of them and paused. Marigold knew he was searching desperately for the Snitch. Marigold figured that Wood probably wanted Harry to get the Snitch before Malfoy could and before any Slytherins could score.

Marigold liked watching Harry during games; she found it fun to see if she could see the Snitch before him. She never could. Even when Harry located the Snitch and went after it, Marigold could never see what he was chasing after, just that he was going after something.

So Marigold was probably one of the only ones watching Harry, seeing as the rest of the match was probably more entertaining. She watched as Malfoy zoomed around, probably taunting Harry, and gasped as a Bludger pelted toward Harry who narrowly missed it.

George came to the rescue, pelting the Bludger with a good whack toward a nearby Slytherin player. Marigold's relief turned in to confusion as the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

Harry dropped in altitude to avoid it; a move that made Marigold's stomach churn, and George managed to hit it toward Malfoy. But, once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.

Marigold absentmindedly grabbed Neville's sleeve. She didn't know if he had noticed or if he was even looking towards Harry. Usually watching the Seekers was really boring since they were mostly just looking for the Snitch, but, for once, the Seeker was way more interesting than anything else going on in the game.

Harry shot off toward the other end of the field. Marigold watched, confused and horrified, as the Bludger whistled along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers didn't focus on a single player like this; they were tricksters, their job was to unseat as many players as possible.

Harry dived at the last minute to avoid hitting Fred, who was waiting for the Bludger and swung with all his might, propelling the Bludger in the opposite direction.

Was nobody else seeing this? What was even happening in the rest of the game that nobody would notice this commotion? Marigold took a chance and tore her eyes off Harry and turned to Neville, who was wide eyed and watching Harry as well.

Neville looked away from the sky, his pudgy face white. It started to rain. Big drops pelted down, Marigold could only imagine how hard rain could be while on a broom. Marigold dropped her hand, which was still on his sleeve. The two of them didn't say anything, but Lee Jordan's commentary reached their ears drawing them out of a trance.

"Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero."

Marigold looked back at the sky. The Slytherin team was a blur through the raindrops, their new brooms clearly doing their jobs. The mad Bludger was still trying to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were on either side of him doing their best to keep him in the air.

George was barely able to keep the darned thing from breaking Harry's nose; but moments later, Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and everyone dove to the ground. Everyone huddled up, and Marigold couldn't make out what was being said, but she hoped someone would do something about the obviously tampered with Bludger.

Madam Hooch approached the huddle, and moments later it disbanded. On her whistle, Harry shot up, unaccompanied by Fred and George, the Bludger was on his tail the moment he lifted off the ground. At this point everyone in the crowd had noticed what was going on, a time out generally does that, and a lot of student's laughed as Harry looped, swooped, zigzagged, and rolled.

Harry was doing his best to keep away, but there were too many close calls to count. Each near miss sent Marigold's stomach to new places in her body no stomach belonged.

Malfoy flew close to Harry, but not close enough to be in the way of the Bludger. He must have said something to Harry, because Harry paused in mid air. He was there for too long; and with a hit that Marigold could feel from the stands, the Bludger made contact with Harry. Harry slid sideways on his broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling at his side. But the Bludger didn't stop; it came pelting back, straight at Harry's face.

Harry dove toward Malfoy, took the remaining hand off his broom, and made a desperate grab and what Marigold (first time ever) recognized as the Snitch. His hand closed, and then he hit the ground hard.

Marigold was out of her seat before Lee Jordan could announce the game was over. In a blur of rain and anxiety, she somehow managed to get onto the pitch before even Madam Hooch.

Harry was on his side and Marigold quickly rolled him over. His arm was at an awkward angle and very much broken. The Bludger made contact with the ground right where Harry had been before she had rolled him over. She looked into the sky trying to find it, but Fred and George had touched down to the ground and desperately started wrangling with it. The rest of the Gryffindor team huddled up around them, and, Much to Marigold's dismay, Professor Lockhart was striding over the pitch looking important with his hair barely touched by the rain. Neville was there next, and then Colin who was asking if Harry was ok, to which Marigold didn't answer.

"I'll take it from here, Miss Rosenberg," Lockhart said, pushing her out of the way slightly as he sat down.

It was that moment that Harry woke up.

"Oh, no, not you," he moaned.

Marigold stifled a giggle.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," Lockhart said loudly to the group. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."

"Absolutely no—" Marigold said.

"No!" Harry said. "I'll keep it like it is, thanks…"

Harry tried to sit up, but made a face. Marigold put a hand on his good shoulder and kept him from moving anymore.

"Lie back, Harry," Professor Lockhart said, putting his own hand on Harry's shoulder. Marigold shot him a dirty look. "It's a simple charm I've used it countless times—"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" Harry said through clenched teeth.

"He really should, Professor," a muddy looking Oliver Wood said, beating Marigold to the punch. Even though his Seeker was injured, he couldn't help containing his excitement. "Great capture, Harry! Really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say!"

"Stand back," Lockhart said, while rolling up his jade-green sleeves.

"No—don't—" Harry said weakly.

Marigold also protested, but Lockhart was already twirling his wand and a second later had directed it at Harry's arm. Marigold watched in horror as Harry's arm slowly deflated. Gasps erupted through the crowd. Harry looked away from his arm and toward Marigold. They shared a look; Marigold just shook her head and watched Harry's heart deflate along with his arm.

"Ah," Lockhart said. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the Hospital wing, and ah, Madam Pomfrey will be able to—er—tidy you up a bit."

Marigold helped Harry to his feet. He looked a little lopsided. Marigold kept him from looking at his arm as she helped him through the pathway Neville and Colin were making through the crowd.

The three of them got to the castle and shook off the rain the best they could. Harry was able to walk, so Marigold let go of his good arm, only to grab him again as he nearly went limp from looking at his flesh-covered, rubber-glove-looking hand.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't pleased at all.

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what not long ago had been Harry's working arm. Neville made a quiet gagging noise. "I can mend bones in a heartbeat, but growing them back—"

"You will be able to, won't you?" Harry said desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," Madam Pomfrey said grimly, throwing Harry a pair of Pajamas. "You'll have to spend the night…"

Harry and Neville disappeared behind the curtain. Marigold and Colin stayed outside as Neville helped Harry into the pajamas.

"You can go ahead and head back to the tower, if you want. I'm sure there's a big celebration waiting," Marigold told Colin after hearing his stomach make a very large growl. "We'll meet up with you in a bit."

"Ok, see-yeh, Harry!" Colin said, leaving the Hospital wing, his camera bouncing with each step.

"Thanks, Colin," Harry mumbled from behind the curtain. "Decent."

Marigold and Madam Pomfrey turned round the curtain just in time to see Harry swing himself onto the bed, arm flapping pointlessly. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled Skele-Gro.

"You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring a steaming beakerful and handing it to Harry. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."

Harry choked down the beaker, coughing and gagging as he went. When he had finished, Madam Pomfrey retreated, muttering under her breath about dangerous sports and inept teachers.

"If it makes you feel any better, Harry," Neville said, helping him gulp down some water. "We won the game."

"That was some catch you made, Harry," Marigold added. "It happened so fast, but Malfoy looked downright murderous when he realized that you had caught it."

"I want to know how he fixed the Bludger…" Neville said, quietly, looking uncharacteristically dark.

"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," Harry said, sinking back onto his pillows. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff…"

"With a bit of Slytherin essence? Not a chance," Marigold said flatly.

The three of them were quiet for a moment, Marigold sat down at the foot of Harry's bed. Not a moment later, Madam Pomfrey came bustling round the curtain.

"Ok, time to go," Madam Pomfrey said. "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty three bones to regrow."

Marigold and Neville said goodnight, and headed to Gryffindor Tower.

"Lockhart's an idiot," Marigold muttered.

"Poor Harry," Neville agreed.

When they ducked through the portrait hole, there was indeed a party awaiting them. The commotion screeched to a stop when they walked in. All heads turned toward them, awaiting answers no doubt.

"Harry will be fine," Marigold said loudly. Looks of angst changed to looks of relief. "He just has to stay overnight while Madam Pomfrey regrows his bones."

Laughter erupted, and the party continued.

Colin was excitedly taking pictures of everyone. A little ways into the night, Colin made his way over to her and sat down next to her.

"It's a shame Harry's missing this!"

"Oh, he'll be alright," Marigold, said tiredly. "He's a good Seeker, he's won games for us before, and he'll do so again. And next time he'll make it to the party."

"Think I should go and visit him?"

"I think he'd really appreciate that, Colin." Marigold stifled a yawn. "Well, I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night, Marigold."

As Marigold crawled into bed, she thought that maybe she would accompany Colin tomorrow. Who knew how late into the morning Harry would be there, and who knew how painful a process regrowing bones would be. He could use the company.

(A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Please like and favorite if you enjoyed the story. And if you can spare a moment, please leave a review! I love hearing from all of you!)