Chapter 5: Parted
"Where's Padma?" George repeated. Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged quizzical looks. "Who?" asked Ron.
Taken aback, George let out a quick breath, which could not even have passed for a chuckle. "Ha ha," he said sarcastically. "Very funny." The three continued to look bemused.
"Isn't she feeling well?" George asked Hermione. "Could you run up to her dorm and check?"
"Where's her dorm?" asked Hermione, without the faintest trace of a smile on her face. George's jaw dropped. "You went there yesterday."
Now Hermione smiled. "I was with you yesterday George."
"Oh, maybe she stays in George's room," suggested Ron. The three of them fell about laughing. Harry caught sight of George's distraught face. "Sorry," coughed Harry. "What's her surname? We could look her up on the school roll."
George felt like punching him. There was no choice but to play along. "Patil," he said and waited patiently for what he knew was about to come.
"Patil?" asked Hermione. "Oh I get it! You mean Parvati, don't you? That's why you wanted me to go find her. The girl in my dorm, you mean? Well, Parvati's gone to India for Christmas."
George could not believe that Hermione of all people was tormenting him. "Oh shut up!" he snapped. "You know she hates being treated as if she doesn't exist."
Harry, Ron and Hermione stopped smiling. "George, stop it," Ron reprimanded. "This joke has gone far enough."
"I'm not joking!" George bellowed. His voice echoed around the hall. Professor Dumbledore looked up.
"George…" began Hermione touching his arm. "I don't think you're feeling very well. Perhaps you should lie down."
"I'm fine!" yelled George, moving away from them. "It's you lot who are dellusional."
Hermione buffed out her chest, which under the circumstances looked very flattering. (Ron's pupils, at any rate began to dilate.) "George, as a Prefect of Hogwarts…"
George interrupted. "You have the power invested in you to send me to bed. Blah, blah, blah, shut up Miss know-it-all Granger." Hermione actually looked as if she were about to cry.
Ron walked over to George threateningly. Even though George was two years his senior, Ron towered over his brother. "Leave her alone," he growled. Harry held Ron back.
"But- but," George protested. "Where is she?"
"I think you'd better leave George," said Harry quietly. Ron looked furious, Harry looked disappointed and Hermione looked as though she would dampen her dress robes by the water of tears.
"I hope to God this is a dream," he muttered as he climbed the staircase. He wanted to find Padma badly, but he could tell that Harry, Ron and Hermione had not been joking: they seriously could not recollect knowing her. He collapsed on his bed. Inspiration hit him. He opened his drawer where he kept his photo album. At the Three Broomsticks, he Harry, Ron, Hermione and Padma had had a photo taken. There it was except that there was an empty seat where Padma should have been.
They did not reply, so she echoed her question. "Where's George?" Harry, Ron and Hermione glanced at each other confused. "Who?" asked Ron.
Padma smiled. She had expected something of the kind. "George," she said, louder, so that wherever he was hiding he was bound to hear her. Harry shook his head bemused. "Who do you mean?" asked Hermione.
"George," Padma said to Ron. "Your brother!"
"Do you mean Bill?" asked Ron. Padma shook her head. She was perfectly willing to play along if it made George happy. Perhaps he was hiding behind the Christmas tree?
"Then do you mean Charlie?" asked Harry, perplexed. Padma stifled a laugh and shook her head again. "Percy," said Hermione. "You must mean Percy."
"No," cried Padma in delight.
"Fred," the three of them said together. Padma shook her head once more. He must be hiding under an invisibility cloak, she thought. It had always been rumoured that Harry had one, after all.
"Then unless Ginny's had a sex change," said Ron. "I don't have any more brothers."
"Okay, okay, I give in!" shrieked Padma. "Where is he?"
"Who?"
"George!"
"Who's George?"
It was starting to tire her now. "George Weasley. Fiery Hair. Well built. Shorter than Ron, but taller than Harry and Hermione. Seventh Year. Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team."
Ron shook his head. "Call us your friend, Padma? His name's Fred."
"Stop it, now. You know how he hates being compared to him."
"What's she on about?" asked Harry.
"I mean it!"
Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other uncertainly. In the end, Hermione took charge. "Padma, as a Prefect…"
"You have the power to send me to bed… I know the deal. George! Just come out will you and stop mucking about?"
"D'you think we had better get Professor Vector?" Ron whispered to Harry.
"I heard that!" Padma snapped. "This isn't funny any more!"
"Yeah," replied Harry, ignoring her.
"Forget it!" she yelled. "I can make my own way to bed." She stomped off to the dormitory forgetting all about grace and elegance. This had been her special night and George had ruined it for her. How could he have done it? Once in her room, she got out the Daily Prophet newspaper clipping she had about George, planning to yell at the photo of him in Egypt. There it was: except that there were only eight Weasleys. George was missing.