Harry Potter and the Joke that Killed: Chapter Six
A/N: WOWIE, eight whole readers! I'm tickled pink! Thank you so much! Yippie-skippie! Now, I'll gladly stop the freefall from the cliffy I left you with, so enjoy reading!
Everyone raise your hands if you think I own Harry Potter!! *author enthusiastically raises hand, sees J.K. Rowling and millions of her lawyers NOT raising hands, sheepishly puts hand back down.* And the moral of the story is. HARRY POTTER IS NOT MINE!!!!
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Nancy Freeston's bloodcurdling screams weren't bringing help anytime soon, Hermione could tell. The girl was lying on the floor, writhing with pain, throat blackened and smoking, and still she was trying to scream.
"Somebody help her!" Lavender Brown yelled, and her words echoed inside Hermione. Somebody. help her. but no one was. Reaching inside her robes, Hermione grabbed her wand and gripped it tightly. Thinking quick, the Status Mystronos spell popped into her head. Immediately after saying it, a mental image of the Charrfoyl Curse traveling steadily towards Nancy Freeston's heart played in Hermione's thoughts. The correct counter-curse came to mind, and without hesitation she cast it on the girl at her feet.
At once the convulsing stopped and Nancy lay still, deathfully still. The eerie silence filled the common room, and everyone's heart skipped a beat. What to do now?
(^*^)
Minerva McGonagall was sleeping peacefully until a bloodcurdling scream awoke her from her slumber. "Boorish children partying till all hours." she grumbled, throwing on her bathrobe and marching off to the Gryffindor common room.
Nearing the portrait of the Fat Lady, Professor McGonagall began to hear frightened screams and chaotic scuffles. Quickening her step, she reached the painting and promptly spoke the password. Just as the portrait swung open, all noise felt like it had been sucked away. Everything was completely silent.
"Oh, good, I'm glad you're here Professor, someth-" the Fat Lady was saying, but the old woman was through the portrait hole and had closed the door without letting her finish.
The sight that met Professor McGonagall's eyes might have resembled a nightmare, but even her subconscious wouldn't picture something so horrible. A timid first year, Nancy Freeston, was lying on the floor with Hermione Granger standing over her, clutching her wand. Nancy's whole mouth and throat were black and charred, and her face was contorted in a look of utter pain.
"What's going on here?" Professor McGonagall shouted, and for the first time everyone noticed that she was there.
"It's Nancy, Professor,"
"She's burning,"
"Oh God, the smell,"
"Please, help her!"
Voices from all over the room met the teacher's ears, and quickly she strode forward towards Nancy. Picking up the limp girl, Professor McGonagall carried her out the portrait hole and hurried towards the Hospital Wing.
Every Gryffindor stared after the two of them, until the door closed and they were left in the room. Lavender Brown started to cry again, along with many other girls in the room. Even Neville's eyes grew rather red, and Ron gave his shoulder a supportive squeeze. It had happened again, two Gryffindor's in two days.
Of course nobody knew what curse it had been, but had a feeling that it had indeed been a curse. "I - I can't believe it. She was burning alive, oh God." said Hermione, the vision of the Charrfoyl Curse coursing along the child's body haunted her mind.
Needless to say, nobody got much sleep that night. Many nightmares flared up, filled with Nancy's bloodcurdling screams and, for Hermione, who had the worst night of all, the memory of the Charrfoyl Curse forcing itself through the child's small body.
The next morning, a solemn Gryffindor table picked at their food, not feeling much like doing anything. Nancy was in the Intensive Care section of the Hospital Wing, and Professor McGonagall had come earlier that morning to report how she was doing.
"Nancy's got severe third-degree burns along her wind pipe and throat, luckily though she only had minor damage to her lungs. Hermione, if you hadn't come to her rescue, she'd be. be gone right now." the professor explained, trying to choke back her tears. But Nancy couldn't have visitors yet; her condition was still too fragile. It was scary to imagine the way she had looked the night before, her whole throat blackened and charred. It was amazing that she survived. "She's got courage, not to worry. It's no mistake she was put in Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall comforted, forcing a smile, before leading her house down to breakfast.
"Ron, do you think someone's got it out for Gryffindor?" Harry asked over his porridge.
"I dunno Harry, someone always seems to." Ron answered.
"Yeah, but this is twice now that somebody's almost died. Death, Ron, that's never been attempted before." Harry replied.
"Well, not never. it could be You-Know-Who's work like it's always been." Ron suggested, whispering the illicit name.
This could be true, Harry thought. But why would Voldemort bother with tainted candies when he could just wipe everyone out with a spell? It didn't make any sense, this was so uncharacteristic of the Dark Lord. Why Negraggiss and Charrfoyle Curses instead of his traditional Avada Kedavra? Something just didn't add up here. "I'm not sure, Ron, Vol - I mean You- Know-Who, wouldn't go through all this cursed candy nonsense, I think he'd just kill us all in one fell swoop with an Avada Kedavra curse or something." Harry said far too gruffly for the meaning of his words. Ron looked thunderstruck.
"I don't mean that it's necessarily going to happen, its just prediction Ron," Harry remarked quickly, trying to make up for what he'd said. But the look didn't fade from his friend's freckled face. "We're at Hogwarts, Ronald Weasley. Dumbledore's here, you're safe, don't worry. I'm sorry I said anything." But Ron's face held it's troubled expression until they reached the Diggory Greenhouse for Herbology.
At lunch that day, the Gryffindor table was busy eating glumly when two big barn owls flew in and dropped a parcel in between the Weasley twins. Eyes shining with more delight than they'd shown in a while, they tore the paper off the package and squealed like little girls when they saw what it was. Excited whispers broke out amongst them.
"Whatcha got there, Fred, George?" Ron asked, standing up and peering over the table.
"Nothing, just a few things from Mum." Fred answered protectively, drawing the thing closer to him.
"Those owls weren't ours, though." Ron remarked, craning his neck further to try and glimpse it.
"Bonnie for you, Sherlock, now shove off." George retorted, wrapping his arms around the mysterious bundle like a mother bear. Ron relented, rolling his eyes and muttering something about 'drama queens.'
But later that night, they soon found out what the commotion was about. After dinner, the twins being oddly absent, everyone trudged up to the common room to find a glorious display set up. 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' was grandly inscribed on a banner hung above a wicker kiosk. At the kiosk stood two identical red-haired boys, grinning broadly.
"Come and get 'em folks, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, the most convincing practical jokes and gags this side of Diagon Alley and beyond!" they barked in unison, managing a wink at numerous people.
Despite the recent run of harmful deceptions, the tricks actually sold quite well. The Weasley's were so popular and trusted that a whole box of Canary Creams were gone in an hour, and the Bellowing Bare-Claw's in less than two. Their beaming, freckled faces were bug-eyed with excitement.
That night was a well-needed joyful one. It was just what the depressive house needed, a goofy and lighthearted time where you were afraid to eat something because it might explode on you, not explode in you. It wasn't disgracing the incident Nancy Freeston had to go through, but exactly the opposite. Moping around would just be taking the easy way out, and not helping the girl's situation at all. At least this way, when she could finally receive visitors there would be tales to uplift her and speed her recovery rather than discouraging her back into poor health.
By the end of the week, Nancy's condition had improved dramatically. Professor McGonagall said that the treatments had healed her throat and windpipe seventy-five percent. "With some reconstructive spells, Madame Pomfrey was able to conjure up a new tongue for her, since the original had been turned to ash by the curse." Professor McGonagall explained warmly. She was visibly thrilled with her student's progress so far.
This news was quite well timed, because after Professor McGonagall's announcement at breakfast it was off to Double Potions for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Ron and Hermione went through their usual Snape-bashing session that preceded their class in the dungeons, but Harry kept unusually silent. Professor Callahan's words were running through his mind. "it's unfair the way Severus cannot escape the demon's he's suffered for past actions." Harry had to admit, that made him feel a little sorry for the Potions Master. A little.
"Every wand has it's own unique core, you know that," Professor Snape said, lecturing the class in his usual monotone, oily voice. "But do any of you know what a counter-core is?" At once Hermione's hand shot up in the air, and she was ignored as usual. But Draco Malfoy's hand went up lazily as well, and Snape looked pleased as he called on his favorite student.
"A counter-core is an element that specially intensifies the make-up of your wand and can double, even triple, your power. So if you need to perform a spell that requires a lot of energy, you can gather your counter- core to up your power so you won't over-exert yourself." Malfoy answered, tossing an arrogant smirk over his shoulder at Hermione. "Excellent job, Malfoy, five points to Slytherin." Snape replied, then continued with his explaination. "There are many kinds of cores, and your strengths and weaknesses determine which one you are compatible with. Unicorn hair, for example, is good for charms and transfiguration but terrible at casting or blocking curses. Phoenix feather, on the other hand, is best at casting and blocking curses, but doesn't perform well with summoning spells "Dragon heartstring cores suit the advanced wizard; excelling at any fiery spell but never seeming to perform trivial spells quite right. Now I have every counter-core imaginable on this table, in a bowl, so will you all please form a line and hold your wand over each bowl. You will know when you find your counter-core." explained Professor Snape. This was quite different than the morose professor's normal speeches, where he was blatantly ignored. All attention was focused on Professor Snape, and it was a sensation that he obviously didn't experience much. Harry quickly scribbled down the information for phoenix feather wands, which he owned.
Eagerly, students shoved their way towards the front and scurried to get a good place in the line. About fifty bowls stood on the table before them, and intently each student poised their wand over them.
"Oooh, look!" Parvati Patil squealed as her wand glowed silver and showered red glitter down upon a bowl of ginger root.
"Ginger root, eh?" asked Professor Snape as he walked over to a frightened Parvati. "Would I be correct to assume that your wand contains a core of Unicorn Hair, made of beech wood, and you tend to perform more frilly spells than curses or hexes?" Parvati looked astounded, and nodded vigorously. "Ginger root is a common counter-core for girls and those who enjoy flowers and Cheering Charms." Snape said, looking positively sickened by the very idea.
When placed above a bowl full of a funny looking berry, Harry's wand seemed to transform into water for a second; it wavered and wiggled, and turned a bit bluish around the edges. "Nocturne Verona-berries. A counter-core for the wand made of Phoenix feather, holly, and suits those with a knack for getting themselves into, and out, of trouble. Curse blocking and casting are your specialty, I believe?" Snape asked, and Harry nodded, smiling a bit. He certainly did have a knack for getting himself in and out of trouble. "Go ahead and try one, Mr. Potter." Prompted the Potions Master, and tentatively Harry picked up a rather plump one and placed it on his tongue. Instantaneously a floating sensation ensued in Harry's head, and a biting sourness in his mouth. Spitting the berry out into his palm, Harry saw Snape grinning evilly. 'Prat.' Harry thought, before returning to his seat.
Walking to lunch, Hermione seemed troubled. "Malfoy's never answered a question in his life, and the information about counter-core's wasn't in this year's Potions book. I only knew about it because I did a bit of extra- curricular reading on wands after visiting Mr. Ollivander's shop. Don't you find that strange?" she asked.
"Honestly Hermione, just because somebody else seems to have been as big of a bookworm as you are doesn't mean they're up to no good. Malfoy's from a wizarding family, his dad's probably just used a counter-core before or something like that. Let it go, I'm sure you'll get the next one." Ron commented, and Hermione smiled sheepishly.
"I can't believe my counter-core is the shed skin of a basilisk." Hermione remarked, changing the subject quickly from her foolishness.
"I know, how come you got something terrifying like that, and I get mint leaves?" Ron asked, peeved.
"Well Ron, don't forget that Malfoy got mint leaves for his counter- core too. At least you've got company. Foul company, but you'll cope." Harry reminded. He remembered the look on his friend's face when his wand turned end over end above a bowl of mint leaves, followed a second afterwards by Malfoy's. Ron looked flabbergasted, but somehow this seemed old news to the Slytherin. In fact, Harry had noticed from his desk that Malfoy hadn't even tried any other type of counter-core, just walked straightaway towards the mint leaves. Harry wished he could have been raised in a wizarding family, so all this stuff wouldn't be so new and confusing to him.
That Friday night was the first time Nancy Freeston could receive visitors. "She's still quite ill, so only a few of you at a time." Professor McGonagall instructed the mass of Gryffindor's waiting to get in and see their missing member. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Neville were the first group to enter.
"Hey Nancy, it's so great to see you." Hermione said as soon as she saw the frail blonde girl. Nancy's whole mouth and throat were covered in a goopy, blue cream, and she didn't say anything to them. But she did sport a hearty smile to her visitors. She put her hand on a strange device on her bedside table, somewhat resembling a muggle boom box, and closed her eyes. A moment later, the boom box spoke.
"Hello you guys. Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks." The magical machine said. The group was taken aback at first, then relaxed as they realized it was her magical method of talking.
"Well, good." Fred replied.
"You look much better than the last time we saw you." George put in. Nancy smiled warmly at the two of them, plainly not accusing them of being the culprits the Charrfoyl Curse came from.
"Thank you, that's good to know," she, or rather the box, said. "Hermione, I'm so grateful to you. If you hadn't come to my rescue like that, I know I'd be dead right now." Nancy stated calmly, and Hermione took a step towards the girl's bedside.
"Oh, it's nothing. I'm just mad that I didn't do anything sooner, you must've been in terrible pain." Hermione responded, grasping her fellow Gryffindor's hand.
"I was. But not anymore, I'm getting better, so don't beat yourself up about it. You're the reason there's any improvement at all, Hermione." Nancy replied, squeezing her hand in return. But that was Hermione's nature, she was a perfectionist. There was never any telling her to relax, that a ninety-nine was a perfectly good score on her Charm's test, or that her fingers had turned into perfectly terrifying, lifelike snakes in Transfiguration.
"Here, you all, why don't you have some pastries. I've certainly received enough." Nancy offered, gesturing towards a silver platter wedged in the corner of her crowded gift-holding table. Fred and George each greedily took one of the mouth-watering morsels, and a second later, with a loud POP, a pair of giant red underpants were hanging out of each of their mouths.
Doubled over with laughter, they finally managed to extract the knickers and toss them on Nancy's beaming face. "I came up with that gag myself, called the Prank Panty Pie. I was wondering if you might like a partner in your business, I love this sort of thing. Been playing practical jokes on my family since I was little." Nancy suggested, her young, round face looking hopeful.
Fred and George looked at each other for a second, weighing out the pros and cons of the situation. She was just a first-year, but after they graduated she could still market their Wizard Wheezes at Hogwarts for them. and the Prank Panty Pie was absolutely hilarious. after a few more second's deliberation, they had made their decision. "Of course." the twins said in unison, and Nancy squealed with delight.
"Oh thank you thank you thank you so much, I can't believe this, but I won't let you down I swear! And don't worry, there's plenty more gags where the Prank Panty Pie came from." she said, luminous with merriment.
"Looks like Professor McGonagall won't be rid of Fred and George as soon as she thinks." stated Ron, and Harry was glad. Hogwarts just wouldn't be the same without their colorful tricks and quirky comments. It looked like they'd just named an heir to the Weasley Twin's legacy.
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A/N: YAY, and another chapter is completed! I'm so proud of my little story, it's growing up to be such a big boy. *awww.* Opinions? Suggestions? Predictions? Or any other ideas ending with -ions? Send those bad boys my way, I like it when people inflate my ego! And to those newbies who so far have:
Totally-2bular-girl: Well, Fred and George are eighteen, I think it's about time they got some sense! ;) of course, that won't stop me when I reach that age.
Akanksha Mathur: WOWIE, thanks. And I didn't know her name was Joanna Kathlene, learn something new every day, huh? Thanks for loving my fic, and a persimmion is a fruit/nut/berry type thing that grows on trees. My friend has them at her ranch, and I ate one. It wasn't fun. At all. In the least. Bad stuff, lemme tell you. tastes BAD, satanicly bad, and that's the only way to describe it. BLECH!
VyingQuill: I know, I'm quite pleased how the awnry stringmint worked out, quite funny if I do say so myself. Oh, and I DO! Hehe, thanks a lot!
And NightDreamerl1010 again: Thanks, I kinda did have fun in school, besides the whole school part. Boy-watching is fun tho, and I've got some purty nice one's in my classes.. Praise the schedule gods!
For all y'all that wanted me to r/r you, I'm sure gonna try, but dangit that's a lot of stories, and I've got my favs to check on too! So yah, read later, and review more and more!! Yayaayayayayayy-rah! Of course in all the fabulous reviews I've gotten so far, they've said that lack of reviews is a widespread unfortunate that many suffer from, so I guess I'm a wide-many spread fortune. er, wait a minute, brain fart. not thinking clearly. need sleeeeeeeep. chat w/ ya'll later, it's off to dreamland for me!
Bon voyage, arivederchi, and ciao to y'all!
Love from, Saranimal HaloGal5@aol.com
A/N: WOWIE, eight whole readers! I'm tickled pink! Thank you so much! Yippie-skippie! Now, I'll gladly stop the freefall from the cliffy I left you with, so enjoy reading!
Everyone raise your hands if you think I own Harry Potter!! *author enthusiastically raises hand, sees J.K. Rowling and millions of her lawyers NOT raising hands, sheepishly puts hand back down.* And the moral of the story is. HARRY POTTER IS NOT MINE!!!!
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Nancy Freeston's bloodcurdling screams weren't bringing help anytime soon, Hermione could tell. The girl was lying on the floor, writhing with pain, throat blackened and smoking, and still she was trying to scream.
"Somebody help her!" Lavender Brown yelled, and her words echoed inside Hermione. Somebody. help her. but no one was. Reaching inside her robes, Hermione grabbed her wand and gripped it tightly. Thinking quick, the Status Mystronos spell popped into her head. Immediately after saying it, a mental image of the Charrfoyl Curse traveling steadily towards Nancy Freeston's heart played in Hermione's thoughts. The correct counter-curse came to mind, and without hesitation she cast it on the girl at her feet.
At once the convulsing stopped and Nancy lay still, deathfully still. The eerie silence filled the common room, and everyone's heart skipped a beat. What to do now?
(^*^)
Minerva McGonagall was sleeping peacefully until a bloodcurdling scream awoke her from her slumber. "Boorish children partying till all hours." she grumbled, throwing on her bathrobe and marching off to the Gryffindor common room.
Nearing the portrait of the Fat Lady, Professor McGonagall began to hear frightened screams and chaotic scuffles. Quickening her step, she reached the painting and promptly spoke the password. Just as the portrait swung open, all noise felt like it had been sucked away. Everything was completely silent.
"Oh, good, I'm glad you're here Professor, someth-" the Fat Lady was saying, but the old woman was through the portrait hole and had closed the door without letting her finish.
The sight that met Professor McGonagall's eyes might have resembled a nightmare, but even her subconscious wouldn't picture something so horrible. A timid first year, Nancy Freeston, was lying on the floor with Hermione Granger standing over her, clutching her wand. Nancy's whole mouth and throat were black and charred, and her face was contorted in a look of utter pain.
"What's going on here?" Professor McGonagall shouted, and for the first time everyone noticed that she was there.
"It's Nancy, Professor,"
"She's burning,"
"Oh God, the smell,"
"Please, help her!"
Voices from all over the room met the teacher's ears, and quickly she strode forward towards Nancy. Picking up the limp girl, Professor McGonagall carried her out the portrait hole and hurried towards the Hospital Wing.
Every Gryffindor stared after the two of them, until the door closed and they were left in the room. Lavender Brown started to cry again, along with many other girls in the room. Even Neville's eyes grew rather red, and Ron gave his shoulder a supportive squeeze. It had happened again, two Gryffindor's in two days.
Of course nobody knew what curse it had been, but had a feeling that it had indeed been a curse. "I - I can't believe it. She was burning alive, oh God." said Hermione, the vision of the Charrfoyl Curse coursing along the child's body haunted her mind.
Needless to say, nobody got much sleep that night. Many nightmares flared up, filled with Nancy's bloodcurdling screams and, for Hermione, who had the worst night of all, the memory of the Charrfoyl Curse forcing itself through the child's small body.
The next morning, a solemn Gryffindor table picked at their food, not feeling much like doing anything. Nancy was in the Intensive Care section of the Hospital Wing, and Professor McGonagall had come earlier that morning to report how she was doing.
"Nancy's got severe third-degree burns along her wind pipe and throat, luckily though she only had minor damage to her lungs. Hermione, if you hadn't come to her rescue, she'd be. be gone right now." the professor explained, trying to choke back her tears. But Nancy couldn't have visitors yet; her condition was still too fragile. It was scary to imagine the way she had looked the night before, her whole throat blackened and charred. It was amazing that she survived. "She's got courage, not to worry. It's no mistake she was put in Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall comforted, forcing a smile, before leading her house down to breakfast.
"Ron, do you think someone's got it out for Gryffindor?" Harry asked over his porridge.
"I dunno Harry, someone always seems to." Ron answered.
"Yeah, but this is twice now that somebody's almost died. Death, Ron, that's never been attempted before." Harry replied.
"Well, not never. it could be You-Know-Who's work like it's always been." Ron suggested, whispering the illicit name.
This could be true, Harry thought. But why would Voldemort bother with tainted candies when he could just wipe everyone out with a spell? It didn't make any sense, this was so uncharacteristic of the Dark Lord. Why Negraggiss and Charrfoyle Curses instead of his traditional Avada Kedavra? Something just didn't add up here. "I'm not sure, Ron, Vol - I mean You- Know-Who, wouldn't go through all this cursed candy nonsense, I think he'd just kill us all in one fell swoop with an Avada Kedavra curse or something." Harry said far too gruffly for the meaning of his words. Ron looked thunderstruck.
"I don't mean that it's necessarily going to happen, its just prediction Ron," Harry remarked quickly, trying to make up for what he'd said. But the look didn't fade from his friend's freckled face. "We're at Hogwarts, Ronald Weasley. Dumbledore's here, you're safe, don't worry. I'm sorry I said anything." But Ron's face held it's troubled expression until they reached the Diggory Greenhouse for Herbology.
At lunch that day, the Gryffindor table was busy eating glumly when two big barn owls flew in and dropped a parcel in between the Weasley twins. Eyes shining with more delight than they'd shown in a while, they tore the paper off the package and squealed like little girls when they saw what it was. Excited whispers broke out amongst them.
"Whatcha got there, Fred, George?" Ron asked, standing up and peering over the table.
"Nothing, just a few things from Mum." Fred answered protectively, drawing the thing closer to him.
"Those owls weren't ours, though." Ron remarked, craning his neck further to try and glimpse it.
"Bonnie for you, Sherlock, now shove off." George retorted, wrapping his arms around the mysterious bundle like a mother bear. Ron relented, rolling his eyes and muttering something about 'drama queens.'
But later that night, they soon found out what the commotion was about. After dinner, the twins being oddly absent, everyone trudged up to the common room to find a glorious display set up. 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' was grandly inscribed on a banner hung above a wicker kiosk. At the kiosk stood two identical red-haired boys, grinning broadly.
"Come and get 'em folks, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, the most convincing practical jokes and gags this side of Diagon Alley and beyond!" they barked in unison, managing a wink at numerous people.
Despite the recent run of harmful deceptions, the tricks actually sold quite well. The Weasley's were so popular and trusted that a whole box of Canary Creams were gone in an hour, and the Bellowing Bare-Claw's in less than two. Their beaming, freckled faces were bug-eyed with excitement.
That night was a well-needed joyful one. It was just what the depressive house needed, a goofy and lighthearted time where you were afraid to eat something because it might explode on you, not explode in you. It wasn't disgracing the incident Nancy Freeston had to go through, but exactly the opposite. Moping around would just be taking the easy way out, and not helping the girl's situation at all. At least this way, when she could finally receive visitors there would be tales to uplift her and speed her recovery rather than discouraging her back into poor health.
By the end of the week, Nancy's condition had improved dramatically. Professor McGonagall said that the treatments had healed her throat and windpipe seventy-five percent. "With some reconstructive spells, Madame Pomfrey was able to conjure up a new tongue for her, since the original had been turned to ash by the curse." Professor McGonagall explained warmly. She was visibly thrilled with her student's progress so far.
This news was quite well timed, because after Professor McGonagall's announcement at breakfast it was off to Double Potions for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Ron and Hermione went through their usual Snape-bashing session that preceded their class in the dungeons, but Harry kept unusually silent. Professor Callahan's words were running through his mind. "it's unfair the way Severus cannot escape the demon's he's suffered for past actions." Harry had to admit, that made him feel a little sorry for the Potions Master. A little.
"Every wand has it's own unique core, you know that," Professor Snape said, lecturing the class in his usual monotone, oily voice. "But do any of you know what a counter-core is?" At once Hermione's hand shot up in the air, and she was ignored as usual. But Draco Malfoy's hand went up lazily as well, and Snape looked pleased as he called on his favorite student.
"A counter-core is an element that specially intensifies the make-up of your wand and can double, even triple, your power. So if you need to perform a spell that requires a lot of energy, you can gather your counter- core to up your power so you won't over-exert yourself." Malfoy answered, tossing an arrogant smirk over his shoulder at Hermione. "Excellent job, Malfoy, five points to Slytherin." Snape replied, then continued with his explaination. "There are many kinds of cores, and your strengths and weaknesses determine which one you are compatible with. Unicorn hair, for example, is good for charms and transfiguration but terrible at casting or blocking curses. Phoenix feather, on the other hand, is best at casting and blocking curses, but doesn't perform well with summoning spells "Dragon heartstring cores suit the advanced wizard; excelling at any fiery spell but never seeming to perform trivial spells quite right. Now I have every counter-core imaginable on this table, in a bowl, so will you all please form a line and hold your wand over each bowl. You will know when you find your counter-core." explained Professor Snape. This was quite different than the morose professor's normal speeches, where he was blatantly ignored. All attention was focused on Professor Snape, and it was a sensation that he obviously didn't experience much. Harry quickly scribbled down the information for phoenix feather wands, which he owned.
Eagerly, students shoved their way towards the front and scurried to get a good place in the line. About fifty bowls stood on the table before them, and intently each student poised their wand over them.
"Oooh, look!" Parvati Patil squealed as her wand glowed silver and showered red glitter down upon a bowl of ginger root.
"Ginger root, eh?" asked Professor Snape as he walked over to a frightened Parvati. "Would I be correct to assume that your wand contains a core of Unicorn Hair, made of beech wood, and you tend to perform more frilly spells than curses or hexes?" Parvati looked astounded, and nodded vigorously. "Ginger root is a common counter-core for girls and those who enjoy flowers and Cheering Charms." Snape said, looking positively sickened by the very idea.
When placed above a bowl full of a funny looking berry, Harry's wand seemed to transform into water for a second; it wavered and wiggled, and turned a bit bluish around the edges. "Nocturne Verona-berries. A counter-core for the wand made of Phoenix feather, holly, and suits those with a knack for getting themselves into, and out, of trouble. Curse blocking and casting are your specialty, I believe?" Snape asked, and Harry nodded, smiling a bit. He certainly did have a knack for getting himself in and out of trouble. "Go ahead and try one, Mr. Potter." Prompted the Potions Master, and tentatively Harry picked up a rather plump one and placed it on his tongue. Instantaneously a floating sensation ensued in Harry's head, and a biting sourness in his mouth. Spitting the berry out into his palm, Harry saw Snape grinning evilly. 'Prat.' Harry thought, before returning to his seat.
Walking to lunch, Hermione seemed troubled. "Malfoy's never answered a question in his life, and the information about counter-core's wasn't in this year's Potions book. I only knew about it because I did a bit of extra- curricular reading on wands after visiting Mr. Ollivander's shop. Don't you find that strange?" she asked.
"Honestly Hermione, just because somebody else seems to have been as big of a bookworm as you are doesn't mean they're up to no good. Malfoy's from a wizarding family, his dad's probably just used a counter-core before or something like that. Let it go, I'm sure you'll get the next one." Ron commented, and Hermione smiled sheepishly.
"I can't believe my counter-core is the shed skin of a basilisk." Hermione remarked, changing the subject quickly from her foolishness.
"I know, how come you got something terrifying like that, and I get mint leaves?" Ron asked, peeved.
"Well Ron, don't forget that Malfoy got mint leaves for his counter- core too. At least you've got company. Foul company, but you'll cope." Harry reminded. He remembered the look on his friend's face when his wand turned end over end above a bowl of mint leaves, followed a second afterwards by Malfoy's. Ron looked flabbergasted, but somehow this seemed old news to the Slytherin. In fact, Harry had noticed from his desk that Malfoy hadn't even tried any other type of counter-core, just walked straightaway towards the mint leaves. Harry wished he could have been raised in a wizarding family, so all this stuff wouldn't be so new and confusing to him.
That Friday night was the first time Nancy Freeston could receive visitors. "She's still quite ill, so only a few of you at a time." Professor McGonagall instructed the mass of Gryffindor's waiting to get in and see their missing member. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Neville were the first group to enter.
"Hey Nancy, it's so great to see you." Hermione said as soon as she saw the frail blonde girl. Nancy's whole mouth and throat were covered in a goopy, blue cream, and she didn't say anything to them. But she did sport a hearty smile to her visitors. She put her hand on a strange device on her bedside table, somewhat resembling a muggle boom box, and closed her eyes. A moment later, the boom box spoke.
"Hello you guys. Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks." The magical machine said. The group was taken aback at first, then relaxed as they realized it was her magical method of talking.
"Well, good." Fred replied.
"You look much better than the last time we saw you." George put in. Nancy smiled warmly at the two of them, plainly not accusing them of being the culprits the Charrfoyl Curse came from.
"Thank you, that's good to know," she, or rather the box, said. "Hermione, I'm so grateful to you. If you hadn't come to my rescue like that, I know I'd be dead right now." Nancy stated calmly, and Hermione took a step towards the girl's bedside.
"Oh, it's nothing. I'm just mad that I didn't do anything sooner, you must've been in terrible pain." Hermione responded, grasping her fellow Gryffindor's hand.
"I was. But not anymore, I'm getting better, so don't beat yourself up about it. You're the reason there's any improvement at all, Hermione." Nancy replied, squeezing her hand in return. But that was Hermione's nature, she was a perfectionist. There was never any telling her to relax, that a ninety-nine was a perfectly good score on her Charm's test, or that her fingers had turned into perfectly terrifying, lifelike snakes in Transfiguration.
"Here, you all, why don't you have some pastries. I've certainly received enough." Nancy offered, gesturing towards a silver platter wedged in the corner of her crowded gift-holding table. Fred and George each greedily took one of the mouth-watering morsels, and a second later, with a loud POP, a pair of giant red underpants were hanging out of each of their mouths.
Doubled over with laughter, they finally managed to extract the knickers and toss them on Nancy's beaming face. "I came up with that gag myself, called the Prank Panty Pie. I was wondering if you might like a partner in your business, I love this sort of thing. Been playing practical jokes on my family since I was little." Nancy suggested, her young, round face looking hopeful.
Fred and George looked at each other for a second, weighing out the pros and cons of the situation. She was just a first-year, but after they graduated she could still market their Wizard Wheezes at Hogwarts for them. and the Prank Panty Pie was absolutely hilarious. after a few more second's deliberation, they had made their decision. "Of course." the twins said in unison, and Nancy squealed with delight.
"Oh thank you thank you thank you so much, I can't believe this, but I won't let you down I swear! And don't worry, there's plenty more gags where the Prank Panty Pie came from." she said, luminous with merriment.
"Looks like Professor McGonagall won't be rid of Fred and George as soon as she thinks." stated Ron, and Harry was glad. Hogwarts just wouldn't be the same without their colorful tricks and quirky comments. It looked like they'd just named an heir to the Weasley Twin's legacy.
* * * * *
A/N: YAY, and another chapter is completed! I'm so proud of my little story, it's growing up to be such a big boy. *awww.* Opinions? Suggestions? Predictions? Or any other ideas ending with -ions? Send those bad boys my way, I like it when people inflate my ego! And to those newbies who so far have:
Totally-2bular-girl: Well, Fred and George are eighteen, I think it's about time they got some sense! ;) of course, that won't stop me when I reach that age.
Akanksha Mathur: WOWIE, thanks. And I didn't know her name was Joanna Kathlene, learn something new every day, huh? Thanks for loving my fic, and a persimmion is a fruit/nut/berry type thing that grows on trees. My friend has them at her ranch, and I ate one. It wasn't fun. At all. In the least. Bad stuff, lemme tell you. tastes BAD, satanicly bad, and that's the only way to describe it. BLECH!
VyingQuill: I know, I'm quite pleased how the awnry stringmint worked out, quite funny if I do say so myself. Oh, and I DO! Hehe, thanks a lot!
And NightDreamerl1010 again: Thanks, I kinda did have fun in school, besides the whole school part. Boy-watching is fun tho, and I've got some purty nice one's in my classes.. Praise the schedule gods!
For all y'all that wanted me to r/r you, I'm sure gonna try, but dangit that's a lot of stories, and I've got my favs to check on too! So yah, read later, and review more and more!! Yayaayayayayayy-rah! Of course in all the fabulous reviews I've gotten so far, they've said that lack of reviews is a widespread unfortunate that many suffer from, so I guess I'm a wide-many spread fortune. er, wait a minute, brain fart. not thinking clearly. need sleeeeeeeep. chat w/ ya'll later, it's off to dreamland for me!
Bon voyage, arivederchi, and ciao to y'all!
Love from, Saranimal HaloGal5@aol.com