Sorry for the delay... got sidetracked a little... this is kind of my favorite chapter yet, cuz it ends in a cliff-hanger...FUN!

Chapter 11

Harry moved his sore left arm to a less painful position while trying not to choke at the potent smell during the same time.

Their plan was pretty good. What they hadn't taken into account was that Ms. Cole locked her room from the inside whenever she took a bath. Their only option was to hide inside her room before she locked it. Right now, both he and Tom were squished inside the small wardrobe in her room. Not a pleasant position. Even worse, if you had an injured arm and had to spent the past hour inhaling the potent perfume that Ms. Cole sprayed on all her clothes. All of it! He felt like he was suffocating, as if he was back in the inferno in his room. His arm was hurting enough for it and he couldn't get enough fresh air into his lungs.

He cursed that stupid not-doctor to the seventh hell. He had hoped that considering that he was a wizard, the man would have left something useful, like instant burn healer. He was sure that Madam Pomfrey had something like that. However, the man had been faithful to his Muggle façade and left nothing but Muggle medicine behind. Muggle medicine that Cole insisted he take every day which tasted like his Uncle Vernon's old socks. Or Dudley's. He wasn't sure which was worse.

So, now, his arm felt like it was being pinched and pricked at the same time, and with this horrible smell, he felt like throwing up. Couldn't Cole take a shower already? The rest of his body was getting numb slowly. Tom on the other hand, looked absolutely fine. He was breathing through his nose, not looking like he was going to throw up. Harry glared at Tom in loathing. Here he was, suffering, while Tom looked as if he were sitting at the beach. This was just not fair!

Tom looked back at him steadily, a small smile on his lips. He shook his head minutely as if to tell Harry that he should do nothing stupid like jump out of the wardrobe and run around like a maniac. Which Harry really felt like doing. This sitting around was getting on his nerves….and skin…and mouth and nose and eyes, and even his hair!…..He just felt so bloody itchy! Great. He had to feel itchy now, didn't he? Why couldn't his body just listen to him for once and behave normally?

"Cathy," said a rough female voice, distracting him from his itchy thoughts. "I'm going to get some of the groceries for next week," it announced.

'Ms. Robertson,' mouthed Tom, looking at Harry. Harry nodded.

Out of everyone in the entire orphanage, Ms. Robertson was the top on his list of most hated people. He would rather be found out by a basilisk rather that her. He was sure the Robertson would take great pleasure in taking both of them apart bit by bit, painfully, if she caught them in Cole's room. Harry was certain that the rumours circulating the orphanage might have some truth in them. That, in her free time, she probably liked to boil and roast innocent little kids. With her demeanor he wouldn't put it past her either.

"Yes, Anabelle," replied Ms. Cole.

Annabelle? That was Ms. Robertson's first name? It sounded like flowers and pixies, whereas the real person reminded people of bad tempered trolls. With glasses.

"Would you lock the door on the way out?" continued Ms. Cole.

"of course," replied Robertson.

He heard the door of the room shut and the lock click, as Ms. Robertson exited. Five minutes later, another sound like the banging of a door came through the cracks of the wardrobe. Both of them stilled, hoping. It could only be Ms. Cole shutting the door of the bathroom. They waited for a few more seconds. When it sounded like there wasn't any more noise from the room, Tom slowly opened the wardrobe and peeked his head out.

"The coast is clear," he whispered. He slowly got out of the wardrobe, Harry close behind him trying to inhale as much fresh air as he could. He would have voluntarily set this wardrobe on fire.

Tom tiptoed past him and began going through Cole's small cupboards. They could hear Ms. Cole humming. Harry began searching around Cole's bed, hoping that his theory was right and Cole had kept the card under her pillow. Sadly he had no such luck. As a few minutes went by, Tom began searching more and more frantically throwing the things higgledy-piggeldy everywhere. Harry began walking behind him, picking up everything that Tom threw.

"Stop it," he whispered harshly. "You won't find it this way. She is going to know that there was someone in this room."

Tom stopped and brushed his hand through his dark lock in resignation. "You're right," he conceded. "I just can't help but think what would happen if we didn't get the card. We would be stuck in this stupid orphanage for the rest of our lives."

Harry wisely chose not to correct Tom by putting in that they would not be stuck here for the rest of their lives because they would eventually go to Hogwarts in 2-3 years.

"We will get i-" began Harry, trying to cheer him up, when Tom suddenly shot his hand up and stopped him. He cocked his ears to the side as if he was listening for something.

They both heard it at the same time and looked at each other in surprise and horror. This wasn't supposed to happen!

Footsteps were ringing down the corridor.

They simultaneously ran back to the wardrobe and jumped in. In his hurry, when Harry tried to get in headfirst, he hit his head on the wardrobe door and his glasses fell off his face. Before he could bend down to lift it, Tom yanked him back into the wardrobe and shut the door. It was not a second too late, because the lock clicked as the door opened and in came Ms. Robertson.

Muaahahaahhaahahha!