The first thing that came to his mind was the most pressing matter--the issue of Hermione and her captivity. Would he really, even with all of the D.A., be able to stop Voldemort? Voldemort was, after all, a highly accomplished wizard with many more like him at this command. The dark creatures that they might face might be more than the fickle members expected. Could they really get Hermione out of there? And even if they did, they were facing major casualties. The members of the D.A. were ill experienced, while Voldemort's Death Eaters had years of torturing people for the fun of it….
It was torture that Kelly wouldn't confide in him the reason for her secrets. He desperately wanted to know, he wanted to be able to help her carry that burden, but she wouldn't give the slightest clue as to what it was. What kind of secret would require her to act the way she did? All that stuff she could do, was it a protection against someone hurting her? Had someone hurt her in the past? Had they threatened to do it again?
But here Harry was judging again too quickly. Maybe… maybe a lot of Beauxbatons were taught this sort of stuff. Harry personally felt that Fleur couldn't have kicked at a ten foot wall and even made contact, but managed to convince himself that the thought had never occurred. Here he was using his own stupidity against himself--how very intelligent he was.
But couldn't Hermione find her own way out? After all, she'd been doing N.E.W.T. level potions and spells long before this year. She was smart enough, couldn't she get out on her own?
That was a stupid question. She was surrounded by dozens of Death Eaters awaiting Voldemort's command, her wand probably in half, and an empty stomach. Even if she did manage to escape whatever bonds may hold her, her loss of strength would prevent her from going anywhere fast.
A light breeze whipped the air around him. Despite spring, winter had not completely left the castle yet. Peeves still sang Christmas songs, to Filch's complete annoyance. The students found it downright atrocious, though no one mentioned Peeves' horrible singing since they tended to hate Filch over Peeves in any matter.
Spring did bring itself into clear view outside, no matter what the inside Peeves said or did. The first student of the year dared to swim in the lake, though they quickly jumped out--it must have still been freezing, and the wind wouldn't have helped. A handful of flowers had sprung up near the greenhouses, to Professor Sprout's utter delight. No one could yet tell what they were, and Professor Sprout sure wasn't telling (Dean said that she didn't even know herself, and that was why).
"Hey, stranger," a voice behind Harry said, kneeling down next to him.
"Hello." Harry greeted Kelly with a smile. "I was just thinking about you."
"You were?" Kelly said with an obvious smile. "Why?"
"Because he wanted to tell you what a great prat you were," a drawled voice said as the owner approached.
"Is that so, Malfoy?" Kelly stood.
Harry, sensing danger, stood up as well.
"Um… yeah, yeah, that's so," Malfoy said. His slaves were behind him, cracking their knuckles as readying themselves for a fight.
"Well, I'd check again, bird-breath," Harry snarled. "She's not a prat, and that's some talk comin' from you."
"What'd you just say to me, Potter?" Malfoy asked, stepping up.
"Well, in lamest terms, I just called you a prat," Harry said.
Malfoy's face gleamed red in the afternoon sun. He did a quick search around the courtyard, then said, "Crabbe, Goyle, teach them a lesson."
Kelly snorted. Crabbe and Goyle froze, then looked at Malfoy as if a snort could be some powerful weapon that might hurt them if they went any nearer.
"Well?" Malfoy huffed. "What are you waiting for?"
Crabbe and Goyle moved forward again, but Kelly snorted again. Again, the two stopped and looked at Malfoy.
"GO ON!" Malfoy yelled.
Crabbe and Goyle bent forward, as though to charge them, and paid no attention to Kelly's snort.
Harry did remember a great flash of white light, but that was all he saw before Crabbe and Goyle were on the ground looking like turnips, as he tried to explain to McGonagall half and hour later. McGonagall did not seem too perturbed as they walked, and hardly questioned him about it. Indeed, she seemed to like the fact that Crabbe and Goyle looked nothing more than ugly vegetables with a nose, but still seemed to have to take away five points each from Gryffindor just the same.
Harry walked into the common room just as Ron walked out of the dormitory, yawning widely as darkness began to spread over the sky.
"'Lo, Harry," Ron said groggily.
"You know, you're going to get your sleeping schedule ruined," Kelly reprimanded as they sat down.
"Be quiet," Ron ordered. "You sound like Hermione."
"Is that a bad thing?" Kelly asked, looking at him like she would tell Hermione if he said anything but no.
"In this case, yes," Ron dared.
Kelly raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
"So," Ron said as though they'd been talking about it all along, "ready for the Quidditch match tomorrow, Harry?"
Personally, Harry thought he'd rather brave the Bryth alone than face the upcoming match against Slytherin. Gryffindor team was near the worst he'd seen it to be, though they were admittedly getting better. Ron being the team captain seemed to have raised his spirits, and Harry was grateful; his spirits used to always be the ones that needed lifting.
"Yeah," Harry lied through his teeth. "I can't wait."
"So, I want to go to the pitch early for practicing, all right, Harry?" Ron said. "Tell everyone else for me. We need to practice the Hawkshead Attacking Formation again, because Sloper and Kirke keep veering to the left. I've decided Ginny will pull off the first Porskoff Ploy of the game, since she seems best at it. I want all our Chasers to be able to do the Sloth Grip Roll by tomorrow's game, because with Crabbe and Goyle, we'll need to know it. I know we haven't practiced, but I was reading Quidditch Through the Ages--"
"For the thousandth time," Harry muttered, feeling he was hardly exaggerating.
"--and I want to try the Woollongong Shimmy, because I think we can do it! Harry, if you can pull of a Plumpton Pass, do it, 'cause we could sure use a new world record. And, of course, you'll be doing the Wronski Feint on Malfoy at least once…."
"I'm going to bed," Kelly interrupted. "See you in the morning, Harry, Ron."
Ron continued talking about Quidditch, though Harry's mind was wandering again, and he paid no attention to the sudden idea of Ron's that everyone would get up at five in the morning and start practicing.
He did notice, however, when Lavender came down from her dorm looking for Kelly.
"What?" Harry asked, sitting up straight in his chair, looking at Lavender as though sure he'd misheard her.
"D'you know where Kelly is? I figured you would, if anyone," Lavender said, smiling mischievously.
"You mean she's not up there?" Harry asked, standing now.
"No, why?" Lavender asked. "She was there earlier today, sleeping, but then she left for some reason, and I haven't found her since. Harry, are you okay?"
Harry's face had gone pale. Voldemort hadn't taken Kelly too?
The portrait hole opened. It seemed to take forever for the person behind it to come in. Harry almost kissed Kelly when he saw her enter. He did rush up and hug her to satisfy the need to show his relief.
"Harry? Why are you awake at this hour? And--Harry, are you okay?" Kelly asked.
"You're okay!" Harry exclaimed, letting her go. "I thought something had happened to you!"
"Why?" said Kelly, amazed.
"You weren't in the dorm," Lavender said.
"And you'd said you were going to bed," Ron piped up.
Kelly laughed softly. "I'd just gone down to the kitchens to get a snack. Want any pumpkin pasties?" She pulled out of her pockets tons of pasties.
"I do!" Ron volunteered immediately.
They ate and talked for a while. It turned out that Lavender had wanted to borrow Kelly's copy of It's a Girl's World, by Haley Swankster. It was long after Lavender left to read before Kelly once again asked them why they were up so late. They asked her what she meant, and she pointed to the clock. It was two in the morning.
They trudged to bed, Ron mumbling incoherently, probably about how he wanted more pasties. They changed into their pajamas, Ron's already several inches too short again. Harry slipped into his four-poster, his mind reeling on one thing. Kelly said she'd gone to the kitchens. She had to have gone through the portrait hole to get there. True, he had been staring aimlessly, but Harry was sure he would've seen Kelly walk out of the common room, and he was also sure that he hadn't.