"That rotton little imp!" Ron stormed, after Harry and Hermione had finished explaining to him the situation. "What's little Camera Boy got up his head that he thinks he can just say something like that? It's not just mean to you, Harry, you know... it's... an invasion!"
"Calm down, Ron," Harry said. "We still don't know why he did it. Maybe he did have a better reason, though I've no idea what he thinks he's solving. But Hermione is convinced that he wasn't just trying to hurt me. And anyway, we don't even know for sure it was him yet..." He looked questioningly in Hermione's direction.
She bit her lip. "Well... we finished the potion last night," she admitted. "And he didn't want me to stay and see who he became... he said it would give too much away."
"Ha!" bellowed Ron. "As if we couldn't figure it out ourselves. It was so obvious... and then what was he doing back in the Great Hall, coming back for more, I suppose, trying to do more damage..." Ron was clearly infuriated.
"You know, I think there's something really weird going on at this school.. maybe we should just wait for a few days and see how it turns out," Harry suggested. "Maybe I could spend a few days in the hospital wing, laying low, and you two could see if anything else happens."
"As if there's not always something going on at Hogwarts," Ron snorted, but he agreed with the idea, and so did Hermione.
"How are you going to get sick?" she asked in a worried voice.
Harry smiled. "Just leave that to me."
Seven years prior, when Dudley had turned nine, and a huge celebration had resulted, Petunia had spent hours cooking, making glorious cakes and puddings for the big boy. Harry had spent hours cleaning dishes. All they had given him that day was codfish oil, and that was also the day he had discovered he was allergic to the stuff. Not deathly allergic, but the reaction was startling. He'd gotten a terrible rash all over his body, his eyes watered terribly, and bright pink welts the size of grapes had appeared on his hands. Even with muggle medicine, it had taken days for the symptoms to recede. He hoped the wizard medicine wasn't too effective.
"Ron, would you mind bringing me some codfish oil?" he asked.
Ron made a face. "Eeew, mate, that stuff's horrible. Are you really going to eat it?"
"Yup." Soon, Harry was covered, head to toe, in a puffy, blistered rash, and his eyes were so teary that he could barely see Hermione's face two feet in front of him. Bumps were beginning to appear on his hands, and they grew so quickly it was painful. Even worse was the bitter lasting taste of codfish, still in his mouth even after numerous rinsings in the dormitory's bathroom. "I think... I need to go to the hospital wing, Ron," he croaked, trying hard not to laugh.
"You look terrible, Harry," Hermione said, squinting at him. "D'you want me to accompany the two of you down there?"
"Sure," he agreed. "Happy spying!"
"Calm down, Ron," Harry said. "We still don't know why he did it. Maybe he did have a better reason, though I've no idea what he thinks he's solving. But Hermione is convinced that he wasn't just trying to hurt me. And anyway, we don't even know for sure it was him yet..." He looked questioningly in Hermione's direction.
She bit her lip. "Well... we finished the potion last night," she admitted. "And he didn't want me to stay and see who he became... he said it would give too much away."
"Ha!" bellowed Ron. "As if we couldn't figure it out ourselves. It was so obvious... and then what was he doing back in the Great Hall, coming back for more, I suppose, trying to do more damage..." Ron was clearly infuriated.
"You know, I think there's something really weird going on at this school.. maybe we should just wait for a few days and see how it turns out," Harry suggested. "Maybe I could spend a few days in the hospital wing, laying low, and you two could see if anything else happens."
"As if there's not always something going on at Hogwarts," Ron snorted, but he agreed with the idea, and so did Hermione.
"How are you going to get sick?" she asked in a worried voice.
Harry smiled. "Just leave that to me."
Seven years prior, when Dudley had turned nine, and a huge celebration had resulted, Petunia had spent hours cooking, making glorious cakes and puddings for the big boy. Harry had spent hours cleaning dishes. All they had given him that day was codfish oil, and that was also the day he had discovered he was allergic to the stuff. Not deathly allergic, but the reaction was startling. He'd gotten a terrible rash all over his body, his eyes watered terribly, and bright pink welts the size of grapes had appeared on his hands. Even with muggle medicine, it had taken days for the symptoms to recede. He hoped the wizard medicine wasn't too effective.
"Ron, would you mind bringing me some codfish oil?" he asked.
Ron made a face. "Eeew, mate, that stuff's horrible. Are you really going to eat it?"
"Yup." Soon, Harry was covered, head to toe, in a puffy, blistered rash, and his eyes were so teary that he could barely see Hermione's face two feet in front of him. Bumps were beginning to appear on his hands, and they grew so quickly it was painful. Even worse was the bitter lasting taste of codfish, still in his mouth even after numerous rinsings in the dormitory's bathroom. "I think... I need to go to the hospital wing, Ron," he croaked, trying hard not to laugh.
"You look terrible, Harry," Hermione said, squinting at him. "D'you want me to accompany the two of you down there?"
"Sure," he agreed. "Happy spying!"