Chapter 20:
Feeling
shocked at Cho's sudden breakdown, Harry knelt next to her and said
urgently, "Cho! What's wrong?"
"I d-don't know
w-w-what I was th-thinking!"
"Shhâit's okay,"
said Harry, desperately trying to calm her down. Cho continued to sob
uncontrollably for a few minutes, and Harry thought it best to just
wait. When she had calmed down a bit, she looked up at him and said
again,
"What have I done?"
"I-er-don't know,
Choâwill you tell me?"
"I-I" she trailed off
and began to cry again, her face in her knees.
Harry sighed and
slumped to a sitting position. He sat there quietly until Cho could
look up again; when she did, however, she let out a kind of muffled
moan and leapt to her feet, running away down the
corridor.
"What-CHO! Where're you going? CHO!" Harry
shouted after her as he scrambled to his feet.
Cho didn't look
back and disappeared around the corner. Harry cursed under his breath
and muttered, "Women" as he walked thoughtfully back to
Gryffindor Tower.
Slowly making his way back up to the common room
and lost in thought, Harry wasn't really looking where he was going.
He snapped back to his senses, however, when he ran into Draco
Malfoy.
"Watch where you're going, Potter," snarled
Malfoy.
"Sorry," mumbled Harry, thinking that he didn't
like the smirk on Malfoy's face at all.
As Harry continued down
the hall, his thoughts began to turn to what Malfoy was up to.
Malfoy, like Snape, was always happy if someone else wasn't.
Giving
the password to the portrait, Harry climbed into the common room to
find Ron leaning over his homework again, watched like a hawk by
Hermione.
Harry sighed. "So you caught us, eh,
Hermione?"
Hermione looked up and glared at Harry. "You,
too! Ron said you were just up in your dormitory!" She turned
now to glare menacingly at Ron.
"What?" he said, trying
to sound innocent but failing miserably, "You could have gone up
there to check!"
"I thought if I left you'd sneak out
again, Ron! It's the kind of think you'd do, you know!"
"Well
then I- Hey!" said Ron, suddenly realizing what she'd said. "You
don't trust me at all, do you?"
"No, I don't,"
said Hermione in a I'm-right-and-that's-final kind of tone. She
folded her arms and turned away from him to face Harry.
"I
shouldn't trust you, either-" she began.
"Don't start
in, please," Harry moaned as he seated himself near the
two.
"What's wrong?" said Hermione urgently, as she saw
Harry's expression.
"I met up with Cho in the corridor-"
The
portrait hole opened and Neville climbed in. "I've lost Trevor
again, have any of you seen him?" he said miserably.
Harry,
Ron, and Hermione glanced at each other with raised eyebrows, and
shook their heads.
"Nope, sorry Neville," said
Harry.
Neville sighed. "I can't remember anything. I hate
being stupid."
Hermione looked extremely pained by
this.
Neville sat heavily on a chair. "So, anyone want to
play Wizard's Chess?"
Ron eagerly shoved his books off of the
table and exclaimed, "I will!"
"Oh, no you won't,
Ron! You and Harry have to finish your work!"
"Aw, come
on Hermione! Give them a break!" Neville nagged.
Harry and
Ron beamed at him. Hermione scowled and finally gave in. She watched
as Neville and Harry played, then Harry and Ron, then Ron and
Neville. Even Hermione was laughing at the expression on Ron's face
when Neville beat him.
"Hey, Hermione," said Harry
slowly as he watched Ron and Neville's re-match. "Where's
Naomi?"
"She was flying on her broomstick outside. We
should go get her."
Hermione looked meaningfully at Harry.
The two got up and left, saying hurried good-byes to Neville and Ron
(who didn't hear them at all), and made their way down to the
entrance hall.
"So what happened with Cho?" Hermione
asked. Clearly she thought that Harry and Cho had simply gotten in a
fight again.
"No, it's not what you think. We
apologized to each other; we weren't fighting."
"But
what else could have happened besides that?" They were now
outside, scanning the sky for any signs of Naomi on her broom as they
talked and strolled around the lake.
"We were talking, and
she seemed upset the whole time. It was so weird, she randomly
just-"
Harry jumped as he felt something speed past him from
behind. Ducking down, he looked up and saw Naomi come to a graceful
landing a little bit ahead of Harry and Hermione.
"Hey,"
she called as she hopped off and hurried over to them, pushing her
windswept hair out of her face.
"Hi," said Hermione in a
distracted way. "So what happened that was really weird?"
she inquired, turning to Harry.
Naomi looked from Hermione to
Harry. "What's up?" she said to Harry.
"SomethingâI
don't exactly know what"
"Well, tell us about it,"
Naomi prompted as she lay down her broom and seated herself on the
ground.
Harry threw himself down next to her and described what
had happened earlier in the corridor. He made sure to include his
run-in with Malfoy.
As Harry explained it out loud, it all seemed
to make more sense. "I think Malfoy did something to her,"
he said immediately when he had finished telling his story. "But
he'll never admit it. Shall we use the Polyjuice Potion
again?"
Hermione was quick to shoot down Harry's idea. "No,
Harry! We don't know for sure that it was Malfoy, first of all.
Second of all, we can't risk the potion again! We could never get
past Snape this year. He's absolutely been dying for a reason to get
you thrown out of his class-or expelled. We don't want him to get
that chance. There must be something else we can do" She
lapsed into thoughtful silence.
"Erâokay--never mind,
then," said Harry, surprised at her long speech and sudden end
to it. "Naomi? Any ideas?"
"I've got nothing,"
she muttered with a shrug.
For what seemed to Harry to be at least
an hour they sat and thought, not speaking to each other. But soon
enough Harry's head was starting to ache from so much being crammed
into it lately, and all he wanted to do was lie in bed for another
year or so.
Hermione sighed, and that seemed to snap all of them
out of their reveries. The sun was beginning to go down, and the sky
was getting darker.
"Harry," said Naomi slowly, "Did
you ever finish that homework?"
Harry jumped and felt himself
go red. "Oops," he muttered, scrambling to his feet and
trying not to meet Hermione's venomous stare. He ran up to the castle
doors, ignoring the scolding tones of Hermione's 'homework' speech,
and found the entrance hall beginning to flood with students waiting
to eat dinner. Having to fight against the flow of the crowd, it took
longer than he would have hoped to get back to the common room. Not
feeling hungry at all, he quickly sat at a table near the fire and
pulled his books from his bag, which he had left on the floor. Harry
sighed as he loaded his quill with ink. It was going to be a long
night.
×××××
Ron, as it
turned out, had slipped downstairs to eat before returning to the
fireside to finish his homework. Together he and Harry worked late
into the night, occasionally helping each other out-mostly when one
had to wake the other after he fell asleep on his
homework.
Eventually, neither of them could keep their eyes awake
any longer, so they trudged up to bed and collapsed onto their
covers. Harry had suggested that they wake up early to finish, but by
the next morning he was thinking that he should have known
better.
Harry was in Snape's dungeon, trying to explain why his
homework wasn't done, babbling on and feeling his stomach wriggle as
Snape's lip curled. The sinister look could only mean bad news for
Harry. Snape opened his mouth and Harry waited for his sentence to
fall.
"ARGH!"
Harry spun around, wondering who had
yelled. Then he felt cold liquid all over his face as Snape threw a
dark, shimmering potion on him...Harry yelled and jumped up, only to
find himself tangled in his bedding on the floor. Hermione was
standing over him, holding the silver pitcher from beneath the
window. Harry's gaze fell onto a very disgruntled-looking Ron, whose
soggy hair was plastered to his head.
"Hermione!" cried
Harry. "What was that for?!"
"For sleeping through
breakfast. Have you finished that-"
"NO, okay?"
snapped Ron. "We'll have to do it between classes or during
lunch or something"
"Better hurry, our first class is
in ten minutes!"
Harry and Ron exchanged mortified looks and
scurried around to get ready. With all the confusion going on, it
didn't occur to Harry that Cho has slipped his mind completely.
Harry was finding his
schedule do be surprisingly busy, considering the fact that he didn't
have any major tests like the O.W.L's or N.E.W.T's to prepare for.
But still, between Quidditch, writing letters to Shadow and Dawn, and
his normal homework and classes, he found that he had very little
time on his hands. By the time the week of Halloween rolled around,
Harry found himself looking forward to having fun at the feast.
At
Monday's breakfast, the first thing Harry noticed was the ceiling of
the Great Hall. Gray clouds were starting to form in the sky today.
As he sat down with Ron and Hermione, Harry looked up at the faculty
table. Dumbledore was not there. In fact, Harry hadn't seen him all
weekend.
Professor McGonagall made the announcements, which
included a reminder that the feast would be on Thursday. Hermione
looked a bit grave when she heard the reminder.
"What? Do you
not like feasts or something?" asked Harry. Not that he cared
very much. He was not in a good mood at all. And his scar was
prickling more than usual. Which probably had something to do with
his bad mood.
"Oh, no, this doesn't have anything to do with
spew, does it?" Ron said, rolling his eyes.
"No, Ron,"
snapped Hermione. "I'm just not looking forward to dealing with
what some students might do as pranks on Halloween. Trying to follow
in Fred and George's footsteps," she added with disgust. "You
should be thinking about that as well, Ron as you are going to help
keep them in line."
Ron's eyes widened and he set down his
spoon. "Me? Why, you think I'd be any help with that?"
"Well,
now that you mention it, no." Hermione smirked as Ron frowned.
"But since you're a prefect, it's your responsibility."
Ron
scowled. "I hate this job."
Harry snorted.
"What?"
asked Ron.
"It's just that-" Harry paused, stabbing his
fork into a pancake. "You never really do anything for
your 'job'."
"So? I can't help it if I'm no good at
this. Not my fault Dumbledore was nutty enough to make me
prefect."
Hermione glared at him. "But since he was
nutty enough to, you have a responsibility!"
"And?"
Ron looked at Hermione, waiting for the rest of it.
"Ron! You
have to do your part!" Cried Hermione. "You're so
irresponsible! You always depend on me to take notes for you, check
your homework for you, get you to study so you don't fail your
classes, even get you out of trouble-the least you can do is help out
a little bit for just this one night!"
Ron and Hermione
continued their argument, until their bickering was making Harry's
head hurt.
"Would you two just shut up for once?!"
He said loudly.
Ron and Hermione stopped and stared at Harry, both
looking as though they had just remembered he was there.
"Sorry,"
said Hermione, giving Ron a stern look to silence him as he opened
his mouth. She was looking at Harry with a little bit of concern
drawn on her face. "You okay?"
Harry looked up,
realizing that he had been rubbing his forehead with a pained look on
his face. "Yeah," he muttered. "Headache."
Harry
glanced around the Great Hall, noticing that it was quieter than
usual. Many students were staring at him, and he realized his sudden
outburst had been louder than he had thought. Judging by the looks he
was getting, some people still believed him to be insane.
With a
grudging glance toward the Slytherin table, Harry saw Pansy Parkinson
stand up and storm out of the Great Hall. Just as she was exiting
through the doors, Naomi was coming in. Naomi stepped aside to let
Pansy pass, and looked over at Harry with raised eyebrows. With one
last glance at Pansy, Naomi started towards the Gryffindor table,
shaking her head in a bewildered way. She seated herself next to
Hermione, dropping her bag underneath the table.
"That was
weird," she said, grabbing a piece of toast. "Has the post
come yet?"
A great rustling noise arose and hundreds of owls
flooded into the room. After the few moments of confusion had died
down, Ron looked at Naomi and said, "Yes."
Naomi rolled
her eyes and took a bite of toast, reading the letter that she had
received. Harry, Hermione, and Ron seemed to have reached a silent
agreement not to mention the conflict from minutes before. Harry
borrowed Seamus' copy of the Daily Prophet and opened it up.
He took a sip of orange juice and looked down at the front
page.
Harry spit out the orange juice he had just sipped; it
spewed across the table and all over the newspaper, tablecloth, and
some of the food. Most unfortunately, Professor McGonagall had been
walking by the table at just that moment. Harry watched in
embarrassment as McGonagall very slowly took her glasses off, pulled
a handkerchief out of her pocket, and mopped the orange juice off of
her face. She wiped her glasses clean, placed them back on her face
and looked down at Harry, whose face was by now burning.
Hermione
and Naomi were staring in shock from Harry to McGonagall, but Ron was
looking at his plate, shaking with silent laughter.
"P-Professor,
I-"
"It would be appreciated, Potter," said
McGonagall dryly, "If you would try to keep your food in your
mouth from now on."
The entire Great Hall was staring, and a
few people were whispering and snickering. Harry wanted so badly to
sink down in his chair and disappear under the table as he saw
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pointing and laughing openly. Ron was still
staring at his plate, apparently afraid he would not be able to
control his laughter if he looked at McGonagall.
"Come with
me, Potter," said McGonagall. Harry slowly picked up his bag and
stood up. He glanced at Naomi, Hermione, and Ron-who had now looked
up-and saw the same expression on each of their faces. Was he going
to get in trouble for that? Harry looked meaningfully at the
orange-splattered Daily Prophet before turning and dragging
his feet after McGonagall. As he reached the doors of the Great Hall,
he glanced back and saw the three of them crowding around the
newspaper to see what had made Harry spit out his juice.
As they
entered the entrance hall and started up the stairs, McGonagall
glanced back to make sure the Great Hall was babbling with noise
again, then glanced at Harry.
"Don't look so horrified, boy!"
She said. "You're not in trouble!"
"I'm not?"
Harry asked. He noticed a few of the portraits staring at them.
"No!
That was actually rather amusing. The timing was so peculiar, that
you would see that article the moment I came to fetch you."
"You
were going to take me out here anyway?" asked Harry, shocked at
his luck.
"Yes." McGonagall suddenly became dead
serious. "Come on, to my office. We'll talk there."
They
continued up the stairs and Harry realized that of course this had to
be more important that spewed orange juice. A man in a feathered cap
whispered from his portrait as Harry walked by, "Lucky she
didn't give you detention for a month!"
He was thinking hard
about what the professor had said when he noticed somethingthat
you would see that article the moment I came to fetch youâ?
"This
has something to do with the article in the Daily Prophet,
doesn't it?"
"Shh! We will talk in my office, Potter.
Not here!"
Harry said nothing else as they made their way
down the corridors. He was thinking about that newspaper article. He
had only seen the headline and picture, which he now was
concentrating on in his head:
Fudge Being Impeached?
And
a large picture of the Minister was plastered beneath the article,
looking shifty and highly uncomfortable.
