Chapter 8) Stalemate Part I
Selected Listening: Dobby the House Elf- John Williams
"You should have never done what you did! Do you hear? She was severely dehydrated and lost a pint of blood," Madam Pomfrey berated the twins, their heads hung low. Draco had been dismissed as if he were simply complaining. Anastasia had been tucked into a cot and rapidly sipped her ginger ale, attempting to replenish herself as quickly as possible.
"But we tested it, Madam Pomfrey!" Fred exclaimed.
"It worked fine for the both of us," George said.
"You are twice the size of one of her, don't you understand? You concentrated the instavomit potion into a pill and gave it to a second year that has the body mass of a bowtruckle! Not to mention stole it from my cabinets in the first place—now you had better not tell me that you also stole the lost and found medication from my cabinets as well!"
Fred and George looked nervously at one another and then at Anastasia. Madam Pomfrey looked back to the girl in bed, who's green-tinged skin had faded to an anemic yellow.
"Anastasia?" The old witch asked. "Why would you steal from my cabinet? You of all people should know better."
"I—" Anastasia started, "I didn't think it mattered. All those old inhalers were lost anyway," she said innocently.
"It does matter. They might have retrieved them at the end of the term. Stealing is stealing. I'm afraid I must inform your father of this—"
Anastasia nearly jumped out of bed, reaching her hand out to stop her.
"Wait, Madam Pomfrey, I stole them…because I wanted to help Malfoy. I heard you and McGonagall talking last year about his family situation, and I thought I could help…"
Fury struck the nurse's countenance.
"It is a serious crime to have broken into my stores. While I understand your intentions, it is not your problem to solve. Even if a terrible attack befalls him, it is not your responsibility to do something about it. It's his parents. Sadly, only they can decide whether to help their son."
"But that isn't fair, it's not his fault—" she pleaded.
"Anastasia, listen to me. You mustn't do anything about it. We are not permitted to interfere with his situation, and you will not come looking for any lost medications again!" She crossed to her cabinet, raised both hands and brought them slowly down, whispering a spell, and as she did a gold light befell the cabinet, drifting all the way to the bottom before vanishing.
"What's that for?" The twins asked.
"Now, if anyone tries to snoop through my stores, they'll get a nasty shock."
Anastasia fell back against her pillow and stared dejectedly at the nurse.
"Madam Pomfrey, every time he gets sick or injured so do I…and vice versa. That's why he was complaining of a stomachache—"
"He just wanted attention, and to trouble you probably…" The nurse walked away to her potions table to mix another medication. Anastasia, infuriated, put her can down on the nightstand, climbed out of bed, and marched over to the nurse.
"Check your roster! I bet every time he's complained about something, I've had nearly the same injury of sorts."
Madam Pomfrey dropped her stirring stick and stared Anastasia down, trying to tell if the girl were telling the truth.
"My fainting fits are directly tied to his asthma attacks. If he dies…I'm not sure what will happen," Anastasia said, distress in her eyes, and sweat across her forehead.
"It's true, Madam Pomfrey," Fred said.
"We've seen it," backed George.
The old nurse walked to her clipboard and began rummaging through pages. She went into her office and pulled a file cabinet open, and they heard more rummaging as they waited. She returned minutes later with a gaunt expression.
"Yes, I will most definitely need to talk to your father and Minerva. Rest. And you two, detention next Saturday," she said to the twins.
"Detention?" George asked.
"That's all?" Fred said simply.
"Yes, detention. And thirty points each from Gryffindor."
"Each?" They asked.
"Want to make it 50?"
They shut up Madam Pomfrey went back to her logs. Anastasia clamored back into bed and grabbed the ginger ale as Fred and George flanked her on either side.
"Did you find the necklace?" Fred asked. "Tell me it was at least worth getting caught!" Anastasia gave them a disappointed glare.
"No, didn't seem to be there, unless I really messed up the spell."
"Well, that's no good," George said, "rotten luck."
"I don't understand, where else could he have put it?" Anastasia asked. "He can't be carrying it around all day."
"We can check the locker room," Fred said, "but if he's hidden it anywhere else in the castle, there's no telling."
The rest of the day passed slowly, and by the evening, her friends arrived with spoils from the dining hall.
"Weren't sure if you'd be hungry, but we thought we'd bring you something," Harry said, and they piled napkins full of pastries onto her bedside table.
"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked.
"I feel much better now," she said, eyeing her pile of treats, "thank you." Harry and Ron smiled back at her.
"Well, you missed a lot as far as lectures go," Hermione said, and handed her a packet of potions, charms, and history of magic notes.
"Couldn't have let me go a day without homework, huh?" she asked with a playful smile. Hermione almost didn't smile back, but a twinge crept into the corner of her mouth.
"Not when you're getting into extra trouble to begin with."
"Extra trouble?" Harry asked. Hermione realized she'd said too much.
"You weren't actually sick, were you?" Ron asked. "You were up to something! I knew it."
Anastasia sighed.
"Look, I wasn't feeling that up to class with Snape, so Fred and George gave me some special pills to make me sick. They backfired."
"You took something from them? No wonder you're ill. And why do they give you all the good stuff. I'm their brother!" Ron said dejectedly. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Ronald, you just said for yourself that It wasn't good. You can't be jealous about it," she chastised.
"Hope you feel better soon." Harry patted her hand and the three of them left, Ron and Hermione squabbling all the way.
Anastasia departed the infirmary crestfallen. She didn't know what to do about anything now that Madam Pomfrey placed her high-security spell on the cabinet. She couldn't pilfer another inhaler and she couldn't find her necklace.
As she walked up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower, a group of Hufflepuffs passed her, coming the other way. One being Justin Finch-Fletchley. He took something out of his pocket, put it in his mouth, and took a deep breath.
Anastasia paused and looked behind her as the boys went down the stairs. Justin Finch-Fletchley pocketed an inhaler.
But that was ridiculous, Anastasia thought to herself, she simply couldn't take one from somebody who needed it. That would be stealing.
When Anastasia arrived in the common room, she found the other students in silence, staring at Minerva McGonagall, who walked in after dinner, a sign that could only mean trouble.
"Where is Green?" McGonagall asked.
"Right here," Anastasia said meekly, unsure of whether she was going to receive an even bigger scolding.
Minerva turned over her shoulder with a shrewd glance
"My office. Now."
Minerva walked quickly, not waiting to see if Anastasia would catch up, it was assumed she would be on the tails of her robe. As they walked, Anastasia's stature sunk. Madam Pomfrey must have already told on her. Maybe she would be expelled, and Minerva and grandad would have to send her to some horrible place without magic for the rest of her life.
Minerva led Anastasia through the transfiguration classroom and only faced Anastasia after she walked behind her desk and turned around to face her.
"Missing something?" Minerva asked, picking the dazzling necklace out of her pocket and dropping it on the desk in front of Anastasia.
"Merlin, where did you find it?" she gasped and snatched it to hold in front of her eyes. It seemed even shinier than before, and the clasp had been fixed from where the mandrake had broken it.
"Nearly hopped out of Crowley's pocket in my sixth-year class this morning. Now tell me, why did a Slytherin prefect have a necklace that your father specifically warned you to keep secret?"
Anastasia's eyes went wide, and she fished for an answer. She looked down at the pendant in her hands and watched as the light glinted off the ochre gem.
"Well, um, I sort of misplaced it."
"Sort of? Either you did or you did not."
"Malfoy took it from me. The prefect must have taken it from him."
Minerva folded her arms in exasperation.
"Why didn't you come to me immediately?" she asked. Anastasia looked at the ground and twisted her foot this way and that.
"Because I didn't want to make you angry."
"Why would I be angry with you for something that spoiled br—" she caught herself in her words as a teacher and rephrased, "why would I be angry with you for something another student did?"
Anastasia shrugged.
"Yes, I am upset you lost this so quickly after we told you to protect it, but I would never blame you for the misguided actions of another student," Minerva looked back to the door and then to the solemn face of Anastasia, "give me just a moment to fetch Professor Snape and we'll settle this—"
"No!" Anastasia shouted.
"No? Why no?"
"I don't want him to get in trouble. Can we please forget this ever happened?" Anastasia pleaded.
"Forget it ever happened? Why? He deserves—"
"His parents have been harsh with him because of his illness, and I don't want to make his life even harder."
Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed.
"Anastasia…feeling sorry for someone is not a good enough reason for them to escape justice," she said. Ah yes, always concerned with justice, Anastasia thought, but she also believed that justice could sometimes come from kindness.
"Minnie, I'm not a snitch. If you need to, talk to Madam Pomfrey, I explained everything to her…but please leave Malfoy alone. I can deal with him."
Minerva looked this way and that, up at the ceiling and back down at her hands before redirecting her gaze straight at Anastasia.
"As you wish, but don't say I didn't try to help you."
Anastasia smiled faintly, but as she departed, so did the joy of her success. Rarely did Minnie let her have her own way in terms of discipline. When she did, it often meant Anastasia would only learn the hard way.