WHAT HAVE THEY DONE WITH THE RAIN?
The Thickening of the Plot
Harry Potter kicked a loose pebble on the footpath, and watched it skittle along the pavement and come to rest under someone's letterbox. He sighed. He had no one to talk to and nothing to think about except his woes. His scar had begun to hurt again in September, and his friends, and the general populace of Hogwarts it seemed, had taken a turn for the worse. With two weeks until Christmas, Harry was on a Hogsmeade weekend, but he did not feel like drinking non-alcoholic beverages in the unhealthy atmosphere of The Three Broomsticks, like everyone else, so he had had walked up to the no-longer shrieking shack and was moodily shifting about the small amount of snow that covered the street. He knew it probably wasn't very sensible for Harry Potter to wander around in the most questionable and isolated part of Hogsmeade, but he figured, since when have I acted sensibly? Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him.
"Hello, Harry!" it was The-At-Buggerit. Bugger it.
"Hi The-At-Buggerit," sighed Harry. Taking a closer look at the Viking wannabe, Harry saw that he had replaced the bones in his hair with festively coloured ribbons, baubles, and bells that tinkled in an extremely annoying fashion. He had retained his horned cap, however.
"Want some chewing gum?" asked The-At-Buggerit, smiling broadly and offering Harry a bulky, gaudily wrapped package that presumably contained the aforesaid gum. Harry was just about to say, 'Yeah, why not' when another voice broke in.
"I'd like some gum," said Luna Lovegood, somewhat urgently. He hadn't heard her coming. Before The-At-Buggerit could utter another sound, she had taken the package from his still extended hand and begun to open the package. Harry sighed, because now he knew that he'd been wrong about Luna. She was just as crazy as the rest of them.
"Hey!" said The-At-Buggerit. Harry stared at him like he was a stranger. The absence of a smile rendered his face unrecognizable. Truly, he now looked nothing like Dumbledore. He was not half so appealing without his smile, in fact, if Harry was any judge, he looked down right evil. Ok, thought Harry, maybe not evil, that's a bit strong, but defiantly Slytherin like! But the smile was soon plastered back on his round face, and Harry wondered if he'd imagined sudden look of conniving intelligence that appeared on The-At-Buggerit's face for a split second.
"I meant to give that gum to Harry, Luna," said The-At-Buggerit in a slightly forced but otherwise pleasant tone.
"Oh, sorry," said Luna distantly, "Thanks, The-At-Buggerit." Luna stuffed the gum in her mouth and left them standing on the road. No one noticed that she spat it out as soon as she was out of sight. Harry scratched his pounding head, and not for the first time he questioned his sanity.
"Oh, well, bye The-At-Buggerit," he said, turning to go back to Hogsmeade.
"Bye Harry!" said The-At-Buggerit happily, "I'm going to take a closer look at this shrieking shack!" he headed off up the hill humming When the Saints Go Marching In.
When Harry Potter got back to The Three Broomsticks it was four thirty in the afternoon. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville stumbled out of the pub, obviously on sugar highs – or something.
"Harry!" Ron giggled, "I tried firewhisky!" he laughed again, "So did Hermione!" Harry gaped at him. Hermione? Alcoholic Beverages?
"But you're prefects," said Harry dumbly.
"Yes, Harry, but Fred and George were there. They gave it to us free," said Ginny in the manner of one talking to a very small child.
"An' its wunnerful, 'Arry, really it is," said Hermione, red in the face and messy-haired. Suddenly she lurched to one side and vomited on Ron's shoe.
"That's disgusting," said Ron with a smile.
"I say we sing, to make it all better!" cried Ginny,
"Puff the Magic Dragon, Lived by the Sea," sang Ron in a slurred voice,
"And frolicked in the autumn mists in a land called Honalee!" sang Hermione, wiping sick off her mouth,
"Little Jackie Paper-" began Neville
"What is wrong with you?!" bellowed Harry, showing rare emotion.
"We're drunk," said Ginny simply,
"As Billy goats," agreed Ron.
Later that day, Harry realised that the following week would be the last week before Christmas. Monday would be their last day of classes. He was somewhat relieved, although he was not so far behind in his work as could have been expected – and it amazed him that he had quite as much, if not more work than Hermione. His confused thought was that maybe although this lunacy in air was actually a good thing. It was eliminating the competition, for one thing. Even Malfoy seemed distracted of late; his attempts at insulting Harry and the people he hung around with were few and far between. Harry forced his sluggish brain to wonder, but whenever he tried The-At-Buggerit's smiling face seemed to pass before his mind's eye in a flurry of painted bells and singing angles.
It was Christmas Eve, and Harry and Ron were playing chess like old times in the Great Hall while Hermione sat and braided Luna Lovegood's hair. Luna, not at all perturbed by this strange and girlish display, was watching Harry reasonably intently and carefully attaching coloured sequins to a Christmas card she was making. Parvati Patil was also their, glaring daggers at Harry, who had been ignoring her all year. She sat in a corner by herself, forsaken by Lavender Brown, with her long black hair draped sullenly across her face. Her sharp black eyes watched Harry closely as she turned something Malfoy had said over and over in her mind. Seamus Finnegan, a tall, thin Irish boy with blond hair and a sexy smile, sat on a armchair with Ginny Weasley on his lap, occasionally kissing her neck. Dean Thomas sat a little apart from Parvarti Patil, an equally surly expression on his face as he watched his supposed best friend getting it on with his ex-girlfriend in full view of anyone in the room who was interested (which they weren't). There were also a few unimportant first, second and third years lounging around and playing snap and dancing to the tune of Here we go round the Mulberry Bush.
"Check mate!" said Ron happily, "Better luck next time, Harry!" Harry couldn't be bothered to gape at him or ask him why he had not decapitated Seamus Finnegan yet, so he turned to Luna Lovegood.
"Do you like my card?" she asked with a smile, holding up a surprisingly beautiful picture of a sleigh pulled by unicorns with 'Merry Christmas' in Red and Green across the top. Harry smiled his first genuine smile in months and nodded.
"It's great. I didn't know you were such a good drawer." She shrugged her shoulders graciously and stuck her red and green pens back behind her ears.
"It's for Neville. To cheer him up, you know." Harry raised his eyebrows. Why would Neville need cheering up?
"He's sick. Didn't you know?" Luna, who's expression was constantly one of surprise due to her huge eyes and high-set eyebrows, managed to look even more surprised. Harry shook his head,
"No, I didn't. What's wrong with him?"
"Well, know one knows, do they? He's in the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey has know idea what's wrong. He started getting poorly that day The-At-Buggerit made that dreadful quidditch poster, you remember?"
"Yeah…" Harry trailed off. It felt like he should be making some kind of connection at this point, but his mind had gone blank. There was defiantly something wrong with him. He tapped Ron on the shoulder and looked up at Hermione standing behind Luna.
"Did you two know Neville was sick?" he asked quietly,
"Oh, is he?" said Hermione, "How terrible," her tone was anything but sympathetic,
"I knew he was sick," said Ron, "But it's probably nothing. You know Neville, always making a big deal out of nothing." Harry felt anger uncoil within him like a serpent for the first time since Sirius had died,
"What are you talking about, Ron? You've been spouting rubbish all year, and you've got to stop," Harry gripped Ron by the shoulders and shook him forcefully, "Get a grip," Ron stared at him wild-eyed, his face flushed. He screwed up his face in an ugly scowl,
"No, Harry, you get a grip, you're the one who's been moping around like it's doomsday! I haven't even-"
"Shutup!"
"What?"
"I said shutup!!" Harry was practically screaming, but no one seemed to notice. Indeed, Ginny and Seamus hadn't even hesitated in their kiss. Hermione put a hand on his arm and tried to speak soothingly, but he wrenched his arm away and snarled at her,
"You're just as bad as he is. The pair of you – honestly. There is something wrong, I know it! AND I'M GOING TO FIND OUT WHAT IT IS!" with that, Harry stormed out of the Great Hall, feeling more normal than he'd done in ages. Absently thanking Hermione for doing her hair, Luna left the stunned duo and followed Harry out the door.
She caught up with him just before he reached the Gryffindor Common room.
"Harry, you're very angry," she said, causing him to turn around.
"Well, thankyou, Captain Obvious!" Harry yelled back. Luna gave him a searching look,
"I think it's a good thing," she said, disregarding his angry manner. As he looked into her calm, dreamy face, Harry though that in some weird way, Luna looked very pretty with her two French Braids and big brown eyes…
So ends the fourth instalment…