Chapter X: Horace Jobblestone
Unpacking was a delight. Ginny pulled things that had been stuffed in that old trunk for four months and gently put them away in thier rightful drawers and shelfs. It wasn't much comfort that she would have to pack everything back up again in a week. That was probably why Harry and Ron had decided not to unpack at all. It was better for Ginny that way. She would have no idea where in Ron's room Harry would stick his invisibility cloak.
Ginny heard voices trickle down the stairs from Ron's room. She tried her hardest to resist the temptation to go up so she could hear the voices better. She knew for sure that she would debate with herself for a while and then finally decide to go up and listen. Unfortunately, at that point she would have missed half of the conversation. She would be utterly lost and there would have been no point in listening at all. So instead of making herself go through the disappointment, she resolved to just go up and listen.
She slipped through her door and stepped lightly up the stairs. The voices got louder, but she still couldn't hear the words. Ginny pressed her ear against Ron's door.
"It's sure great about you and Hermione," Harry said. "I mean, I never would have imagined it."
"Is it that hard to believe that Hermione could like me?" Ron asked defensively.
"I didn't mean it that way," Harry assured. "I just meant that there was no sign of an attraction all these years. It seemed to sort of come out of the blue."
"Are you kidding?" Ron questioned. "I've liked Hermione since fourth year."
"You never told me," Harry informed.
Ron was silent.
"I told you about Cho, didn't I?" Harry told him.
"Well, the thing with Hermione is-" Ron began. "She's not an ordinary girl."
"No one could call her ordinary," Harry laughed. Then he stopped. "Some girls are so extraordinary that they're alluring."
"Are we still talking about Hermione?" Ron asked.
"Listen, Ron," Harry began, "Hermione's my friend."
"So I am," Ron said, sounding a little confused.
"But you never thought of asking me if I had a problem with it all," Harry stated.
"C'mon, Harry," Ron said. "It's not like she's your sister."
"If she was my sister," Harry breathed, "then you would've asked me."
"That's a given, isn't it?" Ron queried.
"Of course," Harry blurted.
"She's not your sister, you know?" Ron notified.
"I know," Harry admitted.
"Then what are we talking about?" Ron asked.
Ginny was wondering that same thing. What was Harry getting at?
"Is there something on your mind?" Ron queried.
"Yes, there is," Harry said quietly.
"And what is that?"
Ginny pressed her entire body against the door, feeling that would somehow help her hear better.
"Well, I was just wondering..." Harry began. "See, there is someone who I think I... I mean, I been wanting to...Well, I-"
"C'mon, Harry," Ron snapped. "Spit it out already."
"Ron, Ginny, Harry!"
Ginny jumped, her heart pounding.
"Dinner's ready!"
Ginny sprinted down stairs, hoping to get into the kitchen before Harry and Ron came out of his room. Mrs. Wealsey had made hot borscht and was dishing it up when Ginny cascaded into the room. She immediately took her seat and stared at her bowl.
"In a hurry, are we?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"Yes, yes," Ginny blurted. "Very good soup today."
Mrs. Weasley eyed her suspiciously.
The boys came in a minute or two later. They were whispering to one another and sat in thier seats.
"Just forget it," Ginny barely heard Harry say.
Ron gave him a puzzled look. Ginny supposed that Harry and Ron hadn't gotten much more clearity in thier conversation since she stopped listening.
"Dad still working late?" Ginny asked, observing the empty chair at the head of the table.
"He's at the ," Mrs. Weasley explained. Seeing the alarm in the faces of the three teenagers, she quickly added, "He's visiting a friend."
"Which friend?" Ron queried.
"Horace Jobblestone," Mrs. Weasley told them.
"Not Jobblestone!" Ron shouted. "He's been Dad partner for two and a half years. What happened to him?"
"I'm really not sure," Mrs. Weasley said. "All your father would tell me was that there was an incident with a family hierloom, a spear."
Ginny stared into her soup. The largely-chopped potatoes and tender meat didn't seem very appealing at the moment. She looked up at Harry. Apparent by his untouched bowl of soup, Harry didn't seem appitized by the food either. She supposed that they shared a loss of appitite during somber conversations. He looked more distracted then distressed, though.
"Are you going to let me ride your Thunder Hawk, Harry?" Ron asked, shoveling spoonfuls of soup to his mouth.
Ginny wondered how he could be thinking about a broom.
"Ride at your own risk, Ron," Harry advised.
"Risk?" Mrs. Weasley repeated. "What d'you mean?"
"That broom isn't stable," Harry informed.
"Stable?"
"That's it, Mum," Ron assured. "Just gave Harry a bit of trouble."
"It hasn't calmed down?" Mrs. Weasley gasped.
"It's alright, Mum," Ron said. "Harry's not hurt, are you?"
"Not at the moment," Harry replied.
Ginny snorted.
"If that broom isn't safe then you won't be riding it," Mrs. Weasley ordered.
"It's safe, Mum," Ron whinned. "Isn't it, Harry? Ginny?"
Ginny opened her mouth but nothing came out. She looked at Harry. He looked a little tense.
"It hasn't perminently injured me," Harry assured.
Mrs. Weasley cast her eyes on Ginny.
"It...the broom...," Ginny sputtered. "Harry...er..."
Ginny wasn't sure what to do. This was one of those moral descisions. Ron's safety was faced against his wrath and boredom. His wrath was really not a big deal. What could he do to her? His boredom was less of an issue. The real problem was that Harry had implied the broom to be safe. Did he expect her to do the same?
Ginny looked at Harry. He just looked expectantly, not implying one way of answering or another. Ron looked as if getting really frustrated.
"It..." Ginny began, "it could have killed Harry on the feild."
Ron pounded his fist on the table.
"Mum, that broom is the latest model!" Ron shouted, standing up. "They've worked out every possible probelm in the design and-"
"This one must have a flaw," Mrs. Weasley said calmly.
"Brooms like that don't have flaws!" Ron snapped.
"How do you account for that Quidditch match then?" Ginny asked.
"I don't know," Ron huffed.
"What if there's a curse on it?" Mrs. Weasley voiced.
Ginny looked at Harry. He was rubbing his finger over his lightening-shaped scar and staring uncomfortably into his soup. Ginny bit her lip and wished that she hadn't answered Ron's question.
"I am not to see you riding that broom," Mrs. Weasely shot at Ron. "Is that clear?"
Ron fell into his chair and pouted, his livid face red as his hair. Ginny wondered why Hermione would find interest in someone so temperamental. Then she remembered her own temperament and felt pity for herself in the thought of how Harry could ever like her.
Mr. Weasley hadn't arrived yet by the time dinner was over. Ron had stormed to his room, while Harry just placidly followed. Ginny helped Mrs. Weasley wash the dishes and then went up to her own room. It wasn't long before she heard yelling from Ron's room. It was just Ron. He was explaining something in an infurated tone. Harry's tolerant voice came in every once in a while. Ginny could not make out the words. Luckily, this didn't seem like a conversation she would be much interested in.
Ginny put on her nightgown and sank into her bed covers. After a while of her fretting as she stared at the ceiling, Ron's voice faded.
**************
Ginny was surprised when she came to breakfast and saw her dad there. He looked very tired, leaning on the table and playing with his runny eggs. Ginny ran over to him and hugged him.
"Ginny," Mr. Weasley yawned. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Ginny assured him. "How's Jobbelstone?"
"Horrible," Mr. Weasley sighed. "It wasn't just the spear. He now seems to have lost his will to live. He won't eat adn he is growing very pale."
"Why?" Ginny gasped.
"I don't know," Mr. Weasley said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his sinses. "I may be a spell or he could just not feel worth anything in that condition."
"A spell?"
"Perhaps the spear had a spell on it," Mr. Weasley guessed. "Other then just the urge to attack it might have been dosed with a negligible potion."
"Like chemical warfare?" Ginny asked.
"Chemical warfare?" Mr. Weasley retorted. "Where did you hear about that?"
"Harry," Ginny answered simply.
"It's not exactly like chemical warfare, Ginny," Mr. Weasley corrected. "Chemical warfare has to do with airborn viruses and muggle-made illnesses put in a city's water supply."
"They can kill cities at a time?" Ginny questioned.
"That's muggles," Mr. Weasley told her. "Death Eaters may use tactics close to that, but thier potions will be much worse them muggle chemicals."
Ginny just stared at Mr. Weasley. Harry and Ron walked intot he room.
"Hey!" Mr Weasley exclaimed. "How would you kids like to join me to the Ministry's secure infirmary?"
"And see all those grossly sick people?" Ron asked. "No way!"
"Oh, come on," Mr. Weasley pleaded. "Harry, will you come with me?"
"I suppose," Harry agreed. "I'm not sure why you want me to go."
"Can I count on you, Ginny?" Mr. Weasley queried as if Harry hadn't made his second responce.
"Sure," Ginny told him.
"Arthur, do you really think that is a good idea?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "That is a secure place."
"I have already talked to the minister," Mr. Weasley assured her. "Everything is cleared."
Mrs. Weasley gave him a look of disapproval.
"Molly, isn't imperative that I have Harry there," Mr. Weasley said.
Ginny began to feel less important.
"Why must I-" Harry began.
"C'mon," Mr. Weasley interrupted.
He put one arm around Ginny and the other around Harry. The three walked to the car together and got in.
"Are there going to be people with freaky desieses there?" Harry asked.
"Yeah," Mr. Weasley replied, "but we're not going to see them."
"Who are we seeing?" Harry queried.
"Horace Jobblestone," Mr. Weasley said.
"Your partner?"
Mr. Weasley nodded.
Harry looked more confused then ever. Ginny wasn't sure why her father wanted HArry to see his dying partner, either. She just suffered her confusion in slience, though.
Mr. Weasley drove to a large building, standing in the midst of Ottery St. Catchpole park. Muggled walked right passed it without noticing it was there. Ginny, harry, and Mr. Weasley got out of the car and headed for the building. It seemed so steril anad deserted inside. Ginny didn't even see one nerse as they walked through the endless halls and went up staircase after staircase. Finally, Mr. Weasley knocked on a door.
"Horace?"
There was no answer. Mr. Weasley opened the door and went in. Ginny and Harry reluctantly followed. A frail, balding man lay in a bed against the wall. He stared out of glassy, empty eyes. He clutched a blanket close to him. Mr. Weasley pulled something form his pocket as he approached his partner.
"Brought you a hotdog, bud," Mr. Wealsey told him.
The glassy eyes moved toward Mr. Weasley.
"Are you hungry?"
"No," Jobblestone croaked. "There is no hope-no hope."
"There's hope, Horace," Mr. Weasley assured him.
"He's won," Jobblestone rambled. "We should we even try to defeat him. No one can defeat him."
Mr. Weasley motion Harry to come closer. Harry swallowed hard and walked over to the hospital bed.
"I brought someone to see you," Mr. Weasley informed Jobblestone.
"Who is it?"
Mr. Weasley grabbed Harry's shirt and pulled him to his knees.
"Look who I brought you," Mr. Weasley told Jobblestone.
"Who?"
Mr. Weasley slowly pulled Harry's bangs away from his forehead. Jobblestone's eyes widened as he saw the lightening scar.
"My word!" Jobblestone muttered, tears comming to his eyes. "It's Harry Potter."
Mr. Weasley nodded.
Jobblestone reached out and touched Harry's scar.
"My boy!" He cried. "You are here."
Mr. Weasley let Harry's bangs go. Jobblestone proped himself on his elbow just staring at Harry, the queerest smile spreading across his face. Mr. Weasley slowly raised the hogdog to Jobblestone. He took it and began to eat it.
"I knew it would work," Mr. Weasley whispered.
As they left the hospital room, Harry asked, "What happened in there?"
"Horace found hope," was all Mr. Weasley would say.
Harry looked at Ginny. She smiled at him, knowing that he gave that man his life back. Harry just looked confused.
*************
Ginny's eyes shot open. There wasn't a single sound in the entire house. Not even the ghoul in the attack was rustling. It was perfect silence and her best chance. Ginny slipped out of her bed. Making sure to miss the creaking spots on the floor, she slid her bare feet along the ground and out her door. In the darkened hall, Ginny gently stepped up the steps. Ron's door was slightly open.
"Quietus," she whispered, rendering the door squeakless.
Ginny pushed the door open slowly and peered into Ron's room. Harry lay on a sleeping bag next to Ron's bed. Harry's untidy hair was sticking up everywhere, making his pale scare very apparent. Ginny stepped into the room carefully, looking down at Harry. He looked so peaceful and sweet. Ginny smiled.
"I miss you," Harry mumbled in his sleep.
"Sure," Ginny whispered, "you should miss her over holiday. That's only because she has bewitched you."
Ginny began to look around for Harry's chest. She checked the closet and only found Ron's chest. Turning around, she glanced about the room curiously.
"I'm sorry," Harry muttered.
"Do you always talk in your sleep this much?" Ginny asked, searching through Ron's drawers. "I wonder what you're sorry for. You give her anything and everything she wants."
Harry turned over and said, "I want to tell you."
"Oh, tell me," Ginny giggled. "This ought to be good."
Ginny looked under Ron's bed. Harry's chest was shoved under there. With all her might, Ginny pulled the chest out and gently lifted the top. His books and robes filled the chest. She pushed around stuff until she saw a gorgeously designed cloth. It had to be the invisibility cloak. Ginny reached in a pulled out the cloak and then pushed the chest back under Ron's bed. She clutched the cloak and went to stand up but was pulled back to the ground. She noticed that she had closed the chest on the cloak. Climbing under the bed, she pulled at the cloth.
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered.
"Yes I know that," Ginny said through her teeth as she pulled. "Move on to something new."
Harry groaned, "Oh, Ginny."
"What!" Ginny shouted, pulling the cloak free and bumping her head on Ron's bed.
"What was that?" Ron asked suddenly.
Ginny ran from the room and into the safety of her own room. Breathing hard, she pressed her back against her door.
"Did Harry just say my name?" Ginny asked herself. "He couldn't have been talking about me. That's impossible. There's no way that Harry likes me."
Unpacking was a delight. Ginny pulled things that had been stuffed in that old trunk for four months and gently put them away in thier rightful drawers and shelfs. It wasn't much comfort that she would have to pack everything back up again in a week. That was probably why Harry and Ron had decided not to unpack at all. It was better for Ginny that way. She would have no idea where in Ron's room Harry would stick his invisibility cloak.
Ginny heard voices trickle down the stairs from Ron's room. She tried her hardest to resist the temptation to go up so she could hear the voices better. She knew for sure that she would debate with herself for a while and then finally decide to go up and listen. Unfortunately, at that point she would have missed half of the conversation. She would be utterly lost and there would have been no point in listening at all. So instead of making herself go through the disappointment, she resolved to just go up and listen.
She slipped through her door and stepped lightly up the stairs. The voices got louder, but she still couldn't hear the words. Ginny pressed her ear against Ron's door.
"It's sure great about you and Hermione," Harry said. "I mean, I never would have imagined it."
"Is it that hard to believe that Hermione could like me?" Ron asked defensively.
"I didn't mean it that way," Harry assured. "I just meant that there was no sign of an attraction all these years. It seemed to sort of come out of the blue."
"Are you kidding?" Ron questioned. "I've liked Hermione since fourth year."
"You never told me," Harry informed.
Ron was silent.
"I told you about Cho, didn't I?" Harry told him.
"Well, the thing with Hermione is-" Ron began. "She's not an ordinary girl."
"No one could call her ordinary," Harry laughed. Then he stopped. "Some girls are so extraordinary that they're alluring."
"Are we still talking about Hermione?" Ron asked.
"Listen, Ron," Harry began, "Hermione's my friend."
"So I am," Ron said, sounding a little confused.
"But you never thought of asking me if I had a problem with it all," Harry stated.
"C'mon, Harry," Ron said. "It's not like she's your sister."
"If she was my sister," Harry breathed, "then you would've asked me."
"That's a given, isn't it?" Ron queried.
"Of course," Harry blurted.
"She's not your sister, you know?" Ron notified.
"I know," Harry admitted.
"Then what are we talking about?" Ron asked.
Ginny was wondering that same thing. What was Harry getting at?
"Is there something on your mind?" Ron queried.
"Yes, there is," Harry said quietly.
"And what is that?"
Ginny pressed her entire body against the door, feeling that would somehow help her hear better.
"Well, I was just wondering..." Harry began. "See, there is someone who I think I... I mean, I been wanting to...Well, I-"
"C'mon, Harry," Ron snapped. "Spit it out already."
"Ron, Ginny, Harry!"
Ginny jumped, her heart pounding.
"Dinner's ready!"
Ginny sprinted down stairs, hoping to get into the kitchen before Harry and Ron came out of his room. Mrs. Wealsey had made hot borscht and was dishing it up when Ginny cascaded into the room. She immediately took her seat and stared at her bowl.
"In a hurry, are we?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"Yes, yes," Ginny blurted. "Very good soup today."
Mrs. Weasley eyed her suspiciously.
The boys came in a minute or two later. They were whispering to one another and sat in thier seats.
"Just forget it," Ginny barely heard Harry say.
Ron gave him a puzzled look. Ginny supposed that Harry and Ron hadn't gotten much more clearity in thier conversation since she stopped listening.
"Dad still working late?" Ginny asked, observing the empty chair at the head of the table.
"He's at the ," Mrs. Weasley explained. Seeing the alarm in the faces of the three teenagers, she quickly added, "He's visiting a friend."
"Which friend?" Ron queried.
"Horace Jobblestone," Mrs. Weasley told them.
"Not Jobblestone!" Ron shouted. "He's been Dad partner for two and a half years. What happened to him?"
"I'm really not sure," Mrs. Weasley said. "All your father would tell me was that there was an incident with a family hierloom, a spear."
Ginny stared into her soup. The largely-chopped potatoes and tender meat didn't seem very appealing at the moment. She looked up at Harry. Apparent by his untouched bowl of soup, Harry didn't seem appitized by the food either. She supposed that they shared a loss of appitite during somber conversations. He looked more distracted then distressed, though.
"Are you going to let me ride your Thunder Hawk, Harry?" Ron asked, shoveling spoonfuls of soup to his mouth.
Ginny wondered how he could be thinking about a broom.
"Ride at your own risk, Ron," Harry advised.
"Risk?" Mrs. Weasley repeated. "What d'you mean?"
"That broom isn't stable," Harry informed.
"Stable?"
"That's it, Mum," Ron assured. "Just gave Harry a bit of trouble."
"It hasn't calmed down?" Mrs. Weasley gasped.
"It's alright, Mum," Ron said. "Harry's not hurt, are you?"
"Not at the moment," Harry replied.
Ginny snorted.
"If that broom isn't safe then you won't be riding it," Mrs. Weasley ordered.
"It's safe, Mum," Ron whinned. "Isn't it, Harry? Ginny?"
Ginny opened her mouth but nothing came out. She looked at Harry. He looked a little tense.
"It hasn't perminently injured me," Harry assured.
Mrs. Weasley cast her eyes on Ginny.
"It...the broom...," Ginny sputtered. "Harry...er..."
Ginny wasn't sure what to do. This was one of those moral descisions. Ron's safety was faced against his wrath and boredom. His wrath was really not a big deal. What could he do to her? His boredom was less of an issue. The real problem was that Harry had implied the broom to be safe. Did he expect her to do the same?
Ginny looked at Harry. He just looked expectantly, not implying one way of answering or another. Ron looked as if getting really frustrated.
"It..." Ginny began, "it could have killed Harry on the feild."
Ron pounded his fist on the table.
"Mum, that broom is the latest model!" Ron shouted, standing up. "They've worked out every possible probelm in the design and-"
"This one must have a flaw," Mrs. Weasley said calmly.
"Brooms like that don't have flaws!" Ron snapped.
"How do you account for that Quidditch match then?" Ginny asked.
"I don't know," Ron huffed.
"What if there's a curse on it?" Mrs. Weasley voiced.
Ginny looked at Harry. He was rubbing his finger over his lightening-shaped scar and staring uncomfortably into his soup. Ginny bit her lip and wished that she hadn't answered Ron's question.
"I am not to see you riding that broom," Mrs. Weasely shot at Ron. "Is that clear?"
Ron fell into his chair and pouted, his livid face red as his hair. Ginny wondered why Hermione would find interest in someone so temperamental. Then she remembered her own temperament and felt pity for herself in the thought of how Harry could ever like her.
Mr. Weasley hadn't arrived yet by the time dinner was over. Ron had stormed to his room, while Harry just placidly followed. Ginny helped Mrs. Weasley wash the dishes and then went up to her own room. It wasn't long before she heard yelling from Ron's room. It was just Ron. He was explaining something in an infurated tone. Harry's tolerant voice came in every once in a while. Ginny could not make out the words. Luckily, this didn't seem like a conversation she would be much interested in.
Ginny put on her nightgown and sank into her bed covers. After a while of her fretting as she stared at the ceiling, Ron's voice faded.
**************
Ginny was surprised when she came to breakfast and saw her dad there. He looked very tired, leaning on the table and playing with his runny eggs. Ginny ran over to him and hugged him.
"Ginny," Mr. Weasley yawned. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Ginny assured him. "How's Jobbelstone?"
"Horrible," Mr. Weasley sighed. "It wasn't just the spear. He now seems to have lost his will to live. He won't eat adn he is growing very pale."
"Why?" Ginny gasped.
"I don't know," Mr. Weasley said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his sinses. "I may be a spell or he could just not feel worth anything in that condition."
"A spell?"
"Perhaps the spear had a spell on it," Mr. Weasley guessed. "Other then just the urge to attack it might have been dosed with a negligible potion."
"Like chemical warfare?" Ginny asked.
"Chemical warfare?" Mr. Weasley retorted. "Where did you hear about that?"
"Harry," Ginny answered simply.
"It's not exactly like chemical warfare, Ginny," Mr. Weasley corrected. "Chemical warfare has to do with airborn viruses and muggle-made illnesses put in a city's water supply."
"They can kill cities at a time?" Ginny questioned.
"That's muggles," Mr. Weasley told her. "Death Eaters may use tactics close to that, but thier potions will be much worse them muggle chemicals."
Ginny just stared at Mr. Weasley. Harry and Ron walked intot he room.
"Hey!" Mr Weasley exclaimed. "How would you kids like to join me to the Ministry's secure infirmary?"
"And see all those grossly sick people?" Ron asked. "No way!"
"Oh, come on," Mr. Weasley pleaded. "Harry, will you come with me?"
"I suppose," Harry agreed. "I'm not sure why you want me to go."
"Can I count on you, Ginny?" Mr. Weasley queried as if Harry hadn't made his second responce.
"Sure," Ginny told him.
"Arthur, do you really think that is a good idea?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "That is a secure place."
"I have already talked to the minister," Mr. Weasley assured her. "Everything is cleared."
Mrs. Weasley gave him a look of disapproval.
"Molly, isn't imperative that I have Harry there," Mr. Weasley said.
Ginny began to feel less important.
"Why must I-" Harry began.
"C'mon," Mr. Weasley interrupted.
He put one arm around Ginny and the other around Harry. The three walked to the car together and got in.
"Are there going to be people with freaky desieses there?" Harry asked.
"Yeah," Mr. Weasley replied, "but we're not going to see them."
"Who are we seeing?" Harry queried.
"Horace Jobblestone," Mr. Weasley said.
"Your partner?"
Mr. Weasley nodded.
Harry looked more confused then ever. Ginny wasn't sure why her father wanted HArry to see his dying partner, either. She just suffered her confusion in slience, though.
Mr. Weasley drove to a large building, standing in the midst of Ottery St. Catchpole park. Muggled walked right passed it without noticing it was there. Ginny, harry, and Mr. Weasley got out of the car and headed for the building. It seemed so steril anad deserted inside. Ginny didn't even see one nerse as they walked through the endless halls and went up staircase after staircase. Finally, Mr. Weasley knocked on a door.
"Horace?"
There was no answer. Mr. Weasley opened the door and went in. Ginny and Harry reluctantly followed. A frail, balding man lay in a bed against the wall. He stared out of glassy, empty eyes. He clutched a blanket close to him. Mr. Weasley pulled something form his pocket as he approached his partner.
"Brought you a hotdog, bud," Mr. Wealsey told him.
The glassy eyes moved toward Mr. Weasley.
"Are you hungry?"
"No," Jobblestone croaked. "There is no hope-no hope."
"There's hope, Horace," Mr. Weasley assured him.
"He's won," Jobblestone rambled. "We should we even try to defeat him. No one can defeat him."
Mr. Weasley motion Harry to come closer. Harry swallowed hard and walked over to the hospital bed.
"I brought someone to see you," Mr. Weasley informed Jobblestone.
"Who is it?"
Mr. Weasley grabbed Harry's shirt and pulled him to his knees.
"Look who I brought you," Mr. Weasley told Jobblestone.
"Who?"
Mr. Weasley slowly pulled Harry's bangs away from his forehead. Jobblestone's eyes widened as he saw the lightening scar.
"My word!" Jobblestone muttered, tears comming to his eyes. "It's Harry Potter."
Mr. Weasley nodded.
Jobblestone reached out and touched Harry's scar.
"My boy!" He cried. "You are here."
Mr. Weasley let Harry's bangs go. Jobblestone proped himself on his elbow just staring at Harry, the queerest smile spreading across his face. Mr. Weasley slowly raised the hogdog to Jobblestone. He took it and began to eat it.
"I knew it would work," Mr. Weasley whispered.
As they left the hospital room, Harry asked, "What happened in there?"
"Horace found hope," was all Mr. Weasley would say.
Harry looked at Ginny. She smiled at him, knowing that he gave that man his life back. Harry just looked confused.
*************
Ginny's eyes shot open. There wasn't a single sound in the entire house. Not even the ghoul in the attack was rustling. It was perfect silence and her best chance. Ginny slipped out of her bed. Making sure to miss the creaking spots on the floor, she slid her bare feet along the ground and out her door. In the darkened hall, Ginny gently stepped up the steps. Ron's door was slightly open.
"Quietus," she whispered, rendering the door squeakless.
Ginny pushed the door open slowly and peered into Ron's room. Harry lay on a sleeping bag next to Ron's bed. Harry's untidy hair was sticking up everywhere, making his pale scare very apparent. Ginny stepped into the room carefully, looking down at Harry. He looked so peaceful and sweet. Ginny smiled.
"I miss you," Harry mumbled in his sleep.
"Sure," Ginny whispered, "you should miss her over holiday. That's only because she has bewitched you."
Ginny began to look around for Harry's chest. She checked the closet and only found Ron's chest. Turning around, she glanced about the room curiously.
"I'm sorry," Harry muttered.
"Do you always talk in your sleep this much?" Ginny asked, searching through Ron's drawers. "I wonder what you're sorry for. You give her anything and everything she wants."
Harry turned over and said, "I want to tell you."
"Oh, tell me," Ginny giggled. "This ought to be good."
Ginny looked under Ron's bed. Harry's chest was shoved under there. With all her might, Ginny pulled the chest out and gently lifted the top. His books and robes filled the chest. She pushed around stuff until she saw a gorgeously designed cloth. It had to be the invisibility cloak. Ginny reached in a pulled out the cloak and then pushed the chest back under Ron's bed. She clutched the cloak and went to stand up but was pulled back to the ground. She noticed that she had closed the chest on the cloak. Climbing under the bed, she pulled at the cloth.
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered.
"Yes I know that," Ginny said through her teeth as she pulled. "Move on to something new."
Harry groaned, "Oh, Ginny."
"What!" Ginny shouted, pulling the cloak free and bumping her head on Ron's bed.
"What was that?" Ron asked suddenly.
Ginny ran from the room and into the safety of her own room. Breathing hard, she pressed her back against her door.
"Did Harry just say my name?" Ginny asked herself. "He couldn't have been talking about me. That's impossible. There's no way that Harry likes me."