Chapter 10. Wasn't Expecting That One!
Strangely enough, the box appeared to be a simple affair found at any Muggle pharmacy. Ron, struck with a sudden idea as to what it was, shifted so he could clearly see the stranger's face, allowing Harry to breathe before he passed out. (Ron had borrowed Hermione's book on Muggle Studies and understood much more about Muggles, enabling him to visit his second cousin, who very shamefully happened to be an accountant. But that's another story.)
The mud-covered person was none other than Hermione…or was it? After all, she and Myrtle looked identical, so it could be either. Harry, finally able to see who stood above, shuddered and curled into the fetal position, being careful not to even shift his right hand. He really didn't feel like being kicked unconscious at the moment. Myrtle—for it was she—ignored him, although she had to resist the temptation to freeze him like that for the next six hours. "Uh…which one of you is Ron Weasley?" Confused, Ron stood up. "Oh"—she bowed oddly, as taught in the strange place she'd lived in (not related to any real cultures)—"in that case, you should probably explain this to Dumbledore." Myrtle handed him the prescription box that read, in small letters on the side, 'Allegra'. Ron wondered what 'Allegra' meant, but he figured it could be the name of some Muggle allergy medicine.
"Er…okay. D'you know what the password to his office is?" Myrtle looked slightly downcast, but merely ordered Ron, Harry, and Sirius to follow her. "Which one are you, anyway?" Myrtle (obviously) said she was Myrtle. "Then where's Hermione?" Before Myrtle could deny his question, they arrived near a small room, evidently the teachers' meeting place. Before they entered, Sirius conveniently disappeared after Myrtle went in and transformed into the huge black dog. There, Dumbledore immediately stood up, a twinkle in his eyes.
"So, Ron, would you like to explain to the Minister of Magic why this"—he held up the Allegra—"shall cause the defeat of Lord Voldemort?" Cornelius Fudge, who still unfortunately happened to be the Minister of Magic, snorted. "Voldemort never rose, I tell you! That boy"—he pointed to Harry, who made a face (but only mentally)—"is just striving for attention!"
Snape, who also just happened to be there, strode up to Fudge and demanded, "Then why is this showing?" Next to the Dark Mark, a rather ugly sign, was a tiny little smiley face that read, 'I'm back.' Fudge (obviously) had no response to this one, so he sat down, bowler hat nearly falling off in the process. Finally, Ron had a chance to explain what had greatly amused him for the past four months. "Uh—Voldemort's allergic to pollen and ragweed, so if he doesn't have this medicine, he can't do anything without collapsing into a fit of sneezes!" Ron felt extremely intelligent inside. Perhaps his father would even receive a raise with his outstanding performance!
Ron's happiness, however, was scattered like dust in a hurricane when Fudge merely looked confused. "What is an—allergy, I believe you said?" Before Ron could say anything, Myrtle's hand rose in the air exactly like Hermione's, and then dropped, just the way Hermione had done on the train at the beginning of their journey to an extremely peculiar fifth year. Anyway…coughs Myrtle explained in great detail how allergies could only occur to people with Muggle blood, and began sounding like a biology textbook when she delved into the details involving histamines and whatnot.
Finally, poor Cornelius Fudge could take it no longer. "All right then!" he shouted, trying to rein his screaming nerves in. "I understand—my goodness, Muggles must have a terrible time comprehending their own world if they make it so complicated! So what you're telling me is You-Know-Who"—he shuddered a little in fear—"is, er, allergic to this pollen stuff? And that box contains a potent spell to cause his allergies to flare up?" Fudge spoke as if 'allergy' were some odd foreign word, and seemed like he planned to revert to hand motions (which had greatly amused the Belgian Minister of Magic at the World Cup, just so everyone remembers this entirely useless fact). Actually, 'allergy' was a foreign word to Fudge; he'd never had much contact with Muggles.
Satisfied with this skewed explanation, Myrtle merely nodded her head. Dumbledore suddenly stood up, raised his wand, and said, "Then we shall confer the Order of the Phoenix upon you for bringing the Allegra back, Ron for discovering this about Voldemort"—Fudge nearly collapsed and the strange black dog seemed to laugh, much to Snape's annoyance—"and Hermione for planting hordes of ragweed and flowers in full bloom—particularly pansies—around Voldemort's hideout." This time, Cornelius really did fall off his chair, but this was due to extreme surprise. "Order…phoenix…just children…" he gasped before fainting dramatically. To everyone's great surprise, Madam Pomfrey materialized out of the fireplace (which was unlit) and dragged Fudge away to the Infirmary.
Suddenly, Harry realized something that displeased his mightily important persona greatly. "What about me?! Didn't I do anything important?" Dumbledore looked slightly annoyed yet resigned, as if he had known this would happen. Once again, he, Harry wondered about what powers Dumbledore might have. After all, given the time, he could probably master those.
"Harry, you already received a Special Award for Services to the School. Besides, you did not engage in the final defeat of Voldemort; you actually helped him come back with more power than before! Honestly boy, one can't have everything! You no longer have your aunt and cousin to contend with, you're famous, and so on! Oh, look…I'm becoming excited. Deep breaths…focus…" Dumbledore settled into a yoga stance and began meditating (his seventy-eight Pensieves were all full, so he needed something else…).
Before they could say anything further, a large wildcat ran into the room. However, it could not have been a normal wildcat; its fur was unnaturally bushy and quite brown. Although only a feline expert would have understood this, everyone in the room understood they weren't looking at a normal animal. Before Ron could figure out what was happening (Harry still was feeling depressed, Myrtle already knew the truth, Sirius really didn't care, and Snape had left to speak with Fudge), the wildcat transformed into a person he knew well, with brown bushy hair and no-longer-oversized teeth. She grabbed the first chair available and said, "Well then, I suppose I'm back."
Dumbledore smiled. "Now, we shall unofficially confer the Order of the Phoenix upon all three of you." Harry, hearing this again, accidentally twitched his right hand. Before anyone else could react, Hermione kicked him and rendered him unconscious again. Myrtle, remembering that she had cast the spell, walked over to Harry's unconscious form and removed the spell—'That should keep him alive to finish term'. Hermione, still seething, finally managed to calm down and pulled out the strange crystal bottle, remembered she wouldn't need it yet, and put it back.
Ron couldn't wait any longer. After all, he didn't have anything to do, and sitting there made him antsy. "Uh, Professor…the awards?" Dumbledore pulled out his wand, and opened Fawkes's cage. Phoenix music filled the air, and a burst of flames accompanied by an immense cloud of smoke obscured the scene. When everything finally cleared, Hermione, Ron, and Myrtle looked exactly the same. "Nothing happened! Was this some farce?" Ron asked, with a question mark at the end of his question. After all, Ron's father had never mentioned this award before, so he doubted its existence. Dumbledore shook his head and wordlessly pointed to the tip of Ron's wand. Ron suddenly realised his wand had a tiny phoenix feather at the casting end, and suddenly looked extremely pleased, imagining Cho's reaction. As if Dumbledore had read his mind (which he probably had), he said, "All of you must not tell anyone, no matter what! This award confers more power upon you and your spells, so if anyone wonders why the effects of spells you cast are stronger, then try to come up with a creative response. And yes, you shall learn about the other special properties of this later. Although the Order of the Phoenix is one conferred only upon children, it is equivalent to the Order of Merlin, Second Class." All three of them, impressed by this news, wondered how Harry would react upon finding out.
They discovered the solution to this rapidly, as Harry arose, yawned, and (happily) discovered his hand no longer produced any noise. Dumbledore quietly left the room for some reason, leaving it up to the three to explain what was happening. Before they could, however, Sirius walked up in his normal form and plopped himself onto the nearest cushion. "Aah…that's better. Oh, right—congratulations for the award." "What award?" Harry nearly screamed. Ron, being his only actual guy friend, explained everything, attempting to downplay it as much as possible. "It's not fair! I mean, I've defeated Voldemort five times!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, but you didn't permanently defeat him." She giggled. "I don't think he can do much anymore…the nurses at the local Muggle hospital confined him to a room because they think he's insane. Keeps trying to perform curses, you see." He, Harry, wondered if it really was that easy to defeat Voldemort. After all, if the most powerful witches and wizards of the age hadn't vanquished him, then how could the disappearance of some allergy medicine do anything? Before Harry had even the slightest chance to throw a tantrum, Dumbledore re-entered the room along with Professor McGonagall. "Now, Harry, either I can Transfigure the title of this story and make it into 'Hermione Granger and the Order of the Phoenix', or we can leave it the way it is." Harry eagerly nodded to the second option. McGonagall looked at Dumbledore. "It's all yours, then. Have fun." She left the room, but only after a soft-hearted look at Hermione, who really was her favourite student (not that she picked favourites, but still…).
Much to his delight, Harry had the Semi-Order of the Phoenix conferred upon him. Harry didn't notice the 'semi' part, but that was mainly because he had concentrated his full attention upon the entire award idea. Little did Harry consider the interesting effects the 'semi' would have….
Still slightly peeved at Harry for stealing her brief spotlight, Hermione stalked out of the room, probably back to her dormitory. Myrtle slouched in the large armchair in front of Dumbledore's desk; evidently, she needed to speak with Dumbledore about something—or was it the other way around? Harry, Ron and Sirius all left the room together, not considering the latter of the two ideas, and parted in the Gryffindor commons room so Sirius could talk to a busily working Hermione (of course she was waiting in the commons room, as if she'd known he had something to say…).