Okay, this is gonna be a shorty, though hopefully long enough to tide y'all over until the weekend. I'm going home for Break (Booyah), so I'll have even more time to write at home…YAY!!! And an updated "Bold and the Beautiful" List has been added to the bottom of the page, in regards to the Eighteen Reviews I've received...eep. 'You Like Me, You Really Like Me'… ~8]

______________

Disclaimers: Do Not Operate Heavy Machinery or Drive While Reading this Fic. Oh, and See Chapter 7. That is all.

Chapter 8: It Ain't Over…

Hermione sat in silence with Ron at the Breakfast table, her eyes still red and swollen from crying. Ron hadn't been able to go back to sleep after what had happened, and neither had the other fifth-year Gryffindors. He had found her crowding outside the Common Room with the other curious students, and was able to pull her away from prying ears and tell her what went on. They followed Dumbledore when he returned to collect Harry and help him to the clinic. Although he was walking mostly on his own, with some assistance from the Headmaster, Ron knew what kind of pain his friend was really in, even if he refused to show it. He also knew the other boy was tired of the piteous looks everyone was almost always casting about him, and Ron agreed that he'd be quite sick of it, too, after a short while.

They had watched on as Madame Pomfrey applied a bandage to Harry's head, an event which gave them an extreme sense of déjà vu. A Chocolate Frog and cup of Chamomile and Mugwort tea later, Harry had drifted off into a deep sleep. Pomfrey allowed them to stay for awhile, even though Harry wouldn't be going anywhere for some time. They took a seat close to one another on the nearest bed, wondering where they had gone wrong. And still they sat, though in the Dining Hall, after the nurse had suggested they grab something to eat if they insisted on coming back later.

The two were oblivious to the hushed whispers flitting about the other tables, the Gryffindors opting to keep to themselves and remain quiet. All had heard the various rumors the others often said of Harry before, and cared not to hear them again.

Hermione looked sadly at the lone piece of bacon still simmering on her plate, untouched. She blamed herself for Harry's present condition. She knew she must have missed something in the Library, probably underneath her nose the whole time; she would just go again, later, and wouldn't leave until she found something new.

Ron, on the other hand, blamed himself. If he had just been awake for a little while longer, he could have stopped that thing from nearly murdering his best friend. He was curious, however, if that had been the intention all along. There were several questions he wanted answered at the moment, though, and that was the least of them.

Ron opened his mouth to ask Hermione one such question when the low murmur of voices around him turned into cheers and laughter. Looking up, he and Hermione saw that the Owls had arrived, letting the contents of their beaks glide to the tables below. Although Hedwig was nowhere in sight, he spotted his own owl, Pig, who fought mightily to keep himself in flight another moment longer to deliver his package. Hermione picked up the letter meant for her in a rush, sliding the wax seal open with her butter knife. Ron snatched at what Pig was carrying before the tiny owl careened into the floor with the weight. Not until he held the envelope in front of his face, however, did he see that it was red.

A Howler.

Hermione's eyes grew wide as those of the others in the room focused on Ron, some of the older students beginning to cover their ears in anticipation. Ron gulped loudly, then quickly ripped the seal off as he, too, plugged his ears with fingers.

It was his Mum.

"RONALD WEASLEY!! I DIDN'T SEND YOU TO SCHOOL TO BULLY THE OTHER STUDENTS!!! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF EXPELLED??!! YOU CAN THANK YOUR BROTHER PERCY FOR TELLING ME THE TRUTH--"

Percy. He had forgotten to mention to his other siblings not to tell Percy. It should have been pretty much implied concerning all of their endeavors at this point, but he still must have found out somehow. That wanker--

He then noticed that his small owl wasn't perched on his shoulder any longer. Pig had actually blown backwards a ways by the force of his mum's shrill and highly amplified voice. When the screaming ended, it alighted once more on his shoulder, a mass of shaking feathers. Ron cleared his throat, his face as brilliant as his hair. "Well, then."

Hermione winced, closing her letter back up. It was a congratulatory note from her parents about the high marks she had received on her last exams, but she wasn't about to bring that up to Ron. She eyed the now silent envelope warily. "You all right, Ron?"

Ron shrugged. "Yeah. Mum may be pretty pissed at me, but I bet Dad's having himself a right good laugh about all this. No thanks to Percy, though," he finished with a scowl. Hermione smiled. "He'll be out of here before you know it, Ron. Unless he takes a position as a professor here…"

Ron gasped. "Hermione! Ugh! Don't even joke about that. Really, now, have you learned nothing about making such dire predictions?" Hermione laughed, then stopped herself short, knowing how Harry would have enjoyed listening to them ribbing one another. Ron must have realized the same, for they both fell silent once more, their letters forgotten. Ron then remembered he was about to ask Hermione something when the letters had arrived.

"Hermione, how do you supposed Harry's doppleganger got into the room in the first place? There was no place for him to hide until we went to sleep, and it couldn't have come in through the window…" Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "And it couldn't have apparated itself in. Dumbledore's taken care of that…" Her eyes suddenly lit up. "Ron, have you considered that maybe it just walked right in, through the door?" He chewed his lip. "You think?" She nodded excitedly. "Why not? It looks just like Harry, so there'd be no way of telling them apart. And it could have gotten the Password anywhere." She began to gather her things. "C'mon," she said to Ron, "We're going to pay a visit to the Fat Lady."

* * * * * *

Draco Malfoy was nothing short of pissed off. Very pissed off. He had been running circles around the room in which he was in for the past three days, and hadn't encountered a wall yet. Not a single one. Even though it was dark (he couldn't find his wand on him), and one wasn't supposed to run blindly around dark rooms, he would have given anything to smack face-first into a wall at the moment. If he found a wall, then maybe it would lead to a door, or something. Instead, his hands had repeatedly grasped nothing but empty air.

Exhausted, he dropped to his knees, and beat his fists upon the cold, stone floor. After he had successfully pounded them numb, he tilted his head back and released a primal scream of rage and frustration at the top of his lungs.

_____________

See? Told ya it was short. Don't worry, this isn't an excuse for Writer's Block, for I have ideas. Yee-hah! And, as promised:

Rolll Calll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! AAAANNNNDDDD Beccy! Yay!!!!

And oddly enough, I've begun an Internship researching Radcliffe Cemetery…veddy enn-ter-esting…I think… ~8]