Disclaimer: Still not JKR.
A/N: Every time I opened this document to write, I found myself entertaining the brief hope that the story fairy had come along and finished it whilst I slept. No such luck, though. Maybe I need to leave her a bottle of something under my keyboard…
Chat, Chappeau
Harry had fallen asleep on the couch in the Common Room, exhausted from draining the Horcruxes. Odd dreams flickered through his head and Ginny watched him, fascinated by the images he projected. She saw a flash of the singing party hat Hermione had received from the twins on her birthday. In a blink, it changed to the Sorting Hat, which said, "You would do well in Slytherin…" before it broke into a Beatles song. The image spun, the song faded and a new vision took its place. A brilliant white, glowing unicorn appeared, rearing, its forelegs pawing the air threateningly. Runes and symbols appeared in gold from hooves to shoulders as the furious animal came closer, ears laid back and teeth bared.
Harry's eyes snapped open and he inhaled sharply when a high-pitched scream echoed through his head. He reached to rub his tingling scar.
"That was quite a show," Ginny commented.
"Was it?" he yawned, covering his mouth and pushing his glasses up, glancing around the Common Room to see what he'd missed. "What do you mean?"
"You were doing Occlumency projections in your sleep," Ginny fondly tried to straighten his hair, but gave up, ruffling it instead.
"Oh?" Harry went very still, trying to remember everything he'd been dreaming about.
Ginny chuckled at his slightly panicked expression. "Just a hat and unicorn."
"Oh. Good."
"Why is that good? Did I miss your dreams about Seamus' naughty magazines?"
Harry yawned and stretched again, draping an arm around her casually, rolling his eyes and shaking his head at her suggestive comment. As she leaned into him, he pulled her closer. "Mmm," he inhaled the sweet fragrance from her hair. "I miss this."
She poked him in the ribs. "We're together all the time," she teased.
"Not enough," his voice was still rough with sleep. His eyes drifted closed again.
Ginny relaxed, idly wondering just how he could send projections with his eyes closed. She sighed, watching him sleep again. "One would think being the girlfriend of Harry Potter would be a bit more exciting," she muttered. She finally slipped out of his grasp, intent on getting to the library. She didn't notice his eyes open, or the disappointment on his face as she left the room.
Voldemort swallowed another pain potion, his head throbbing. He reflected on the images he'd seen this time. Party hats and an enraged unicorn. "Potter must really be trying to make the most of his last months of life," Voldemort mused. "How could anyone imagine Potter would be any kind of adversary? Laughable." He imagined turning Potter into an annoying insect to be swatted. Or better yet, shot down with a wand so he could rip its wings and legs off, one by one, letting it stumble around, frantically, hopelessly trying to escape… He grasped his wand, squinting as his vision swam and his headache intensified. He dropped to his knees, retching. He cursed fluently, swearing to make Harry Potter's last moments of life excruciatingly painful.
In the shadows, Snape watched with narrowed eyes; a long, pale finger tracing his lips thoughtfully.
"So the Horcruxes are destroyed?" Neville asked Ron while they helped set up for D.A. training.
"Yeah, that's what they say," Ron indicated Bill and Lupin with a nod. "Apparently, there was a weakness Voldemort missed. He figured any attempt to destroy them would use violence, so that's all he protected them from. That's all he knows, I imagine."
Ron glanced at his watch, annoyed by Ginny's perpetual lateness these days. She never helped set up anymore, she was always in the library. He turned back to Neville, who had paused to move some cushions. "So anyway, after the soul bits were released from the objects, the purification ritual caused the mess to crumble and there was nothing left but nasty goo," Ron shrugged. "Seems to me they were taking an awfully big chance, but it worked. Harry said it was like finding the right string to pull to unravel the jumper, if that makes any sense."
Neville shook his head, secretly glad he hadn't attended the 'relic wrecking ritual,' as Harry had dubbed it. He probably would have sneezed at a crucial moment and caused some sort of catastrophe.
Hannah joined them, brushing up against Neville. "Can I help with anything?"
"You could try rousting Ginny out of the library," Ron suggested.
"I'll get her," Hannah smiled. "She gets so involved; she tends to miss her messages."
"Hannah?" Ron hesitated. "Tell me if she's with anyone in the library, yeah?"
Lips pursed, Hannah simply nodded and left for the library.
Ron sighed. "You know, I told Harry I'd kill him if he ever hurt Ginny," he said, shaking his head wearily. "I should have told her the same thing. I don't know what the hell she's playing at. She's been avoiding him."
"She's wanted to date Harry since forever," Neville's brow furrowed. "I can't believe she'd ever want to break up with him."
"He says she's just been busy, working on some secret project," Ron said. "But I dunno…something's off. I mean, she used to live to make me gag, snogging him at any opportunity." He rubbed his nose in consternation. "Now, don't get me wrong, I don't miss seeing that around every corner, but the other day he sat by her on the couch and she just patted his cheek and ran for the library. I've never claimed to understand girls, but something is wrong there."
Neville noticed Harry glance at his watch and run his hand through his hair, frowning at the door. When Ginny and Hannah appeared with a group of boys, Harry's eyes lit up for a moment, until he noticed the rest of Ginny's companions. Ginny seemed to notice his expression because she looked guilty and turned away.
"You think she finally realized he's just a regular bloke and got bored?" Neville wondered.
Ron's jaw tightened, seeing the interaction. "Damn it all, I wish Hermione was here," he grated through clenched teeth. "She could talk some sense into that little brat."
D.A. training sessions had taken the place of both Hogsmeade visits and Quidditch, since neither was allowed anymore. Harry kept himself occupied, immersing himself in his studies and the D.A. He was having odd nightmares at night, usually involving a lumpy-looking snake and an hourglass, with Fawkes smiling and winking at him from various vantage points. Rather a stupid dream to lose sleep over, he thought groggily, phoenixes don't smile.
He sat up, squinting at his watch to check the time. It was early, but he noticed with a funny twist of his heart that Ginny was already in the library. Steeling his resolve, he hurriedly showed and dressed, intending to talk to her. He wanted things sorted out before the Christmas holidays, one way or the other. He had adopted a rather fatalistic view. If Ginny wanted to break up with him, that was just one less regret he'd have if he had to die under the domed shield with Voldemort. He climbed the stairs and opened the door to the library.
He saw her in the far corner with the two cats; one on each side of the book she was focused on. Occasionally, one of them would tap a page with a paw. Harry's stomach clenched, thinking about what she might say to him. He watched her for a few more moments. She looked so small and vulnerable, sitting at the huge table, dwarfed by towering shelves of books. He noticed dark smudges under her eyes and wondered if she'd been up all night.
"Ginny?" he spoke softly as he approached, not wanting to startle her.
She didn't seem to have enough energy or reflexes left to jump. She looked up at him; her eyes glazed with weariness, shoulders slumped. "Hi, Harry. You're up early."
"I saw you were up here," he shrugged, pulling out a chair to sit next to her. "Is there something I can help with?"
She shook her head, turning back to her books. "No, thanks."
"Gin," he began hesitantly. He pressed his lips together, unsure of how to proceed. "Erm, I was just wondering…. Is everything okay?"
"Depends on what 'everything' you're talking about, I suppose," she sighed.
"Us." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Something isn't the same, but I don't know what, or how to fix it."
"Oh Harry, love, I'm sorry." She patted his arm distractedly. "I've been working so hard to keep up with all my homework and catch up on the Seventh year classes, besides this idea I had to help Hermione…"
Harry nodded. "I know, but I want to help you."
"Yes, but, you're so busy already, I don't want to be a burden," she looked away.
Harry's shoulders slumped. They'd had some variation of this discussion for weeks. She was simply too independently obstinate to let him help, or even tell him about the idea for Hermione, except to say it was something only she could do. She'd been keeping him at arm's length, if not further.
Ginny checked her watch and tucked a bookmark in the book as she stood. "Let's go get some breakfast," she suggested, standing and gathering her things.
Harry moved impulsively hauling her into his arms. There was one other way to find out how she felt, he thought as he pressed his lips to hers. Her response reassured him, and he quickly dispatched her hair tie to twine his fingers in her long tresses. It'd been days since she'd bestowed anything more than quick kisses on his cheek. He made a noise of muffled protest when he felt her push away from him.
"Harry," she sighed, "We're in the middle of the library. Pince frowns on this sort of thing, you know, and I don't have time for a detention."
He wanted to ask when she started caring what anyone else thought, and the grumpy, disappointed part of him longed to ask when she was going to have time for him, because he was pretty sure it wouldn't happen over the Christmas holidays either. Reluctantly, he released her, noticing she wasted no time in getting away from him to finish packing her books and quills. He wondered if he'd imagined her brief but enthusiastic reaction. He wondered if she'd officially break it off with him, or if she thought they'd just drift away from each other. It didn't really matter, either way. He certainly wasn't going to foist himself on her if she didn't want his attention anymore.
She didn't reach for his hand to go down to breakfast. He stopped at the top of the stairway leading to the Great Hall. "You go ahead. I'm going out to the pitch." He turned away without looking back, heading for the Gryffindor dormitories to retrieve his broom. By the time he reached his room, he collapsed on his bed. He didn't want to fly anymore. He just wanted to sleep.
When Ginny appeared alone in the Great Hall, Ron watched her suspiciously. He had been relieved to see her and Harry's watch hands together.
"Where's Harry?" he asked as she took the seat across from him.
"Going flying he said."
Ron looked at his watch again. "No, now it says he's sleeping."
"Must have changed his mind," she said offhandedly, selecting toast and bacon.
Ron's eyes narrowed. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't mess with him. Don't muck around with his feelings and ditch him. Whatever it is you're playing at, you're…" Ron gesticulated in frustration. "He deserves better than that."
Ginny's eyes narrowed dangerously and her nostrils flared. "I'm not doing anything to him," she snapped. "I've been busy. I've been spending every spare minute in the library trying to…well, working on something important that needs to be done before the Christmas holidays, besides trying to do Sixth and Seventh year homework."
Ron looked suspicious. "Why won't you let Harry help you then? For some unknown reason, he wants to spend time with you," he scowled. "You ranted and raved about him and his secrets, but it's okay for you to do the same thing to him?"
"He's not complaining, I don't see why you have a problem," Ginny snarled.
"Well, he never complains about anything, does he?" Ron retorted. "Stupid git will just sit and take it, no matter what you dish out. Do you two ever fight? No, because he has absolutely no effing spine around you."
Ginny just flashed him a rude gesture and rolled her eyes. She folded a piece of toast around the bacon and left the table, glancing at her watch. On her way out of the hall, she stopped to whisper to Luna, who'd chosen to sit at the Ravenclaw table this morning. Luna fluidly scooped her books back in her bag and followed her friend.
"Merlin, I can't wait to get this over with. Tell me again why I can't just finish it now?" Ginny muttered irritably to Luna as they headed to their first class of the day.
"I think you're ready, but it's three days until the solstice. That's the day we leave for Christmas holidays, so we'll need everything ready."
"You really think it's worth it to wait?" Ginny frowned. "I'm pretty sure the spell would still work. Even tomorrow should be close enough."
Luna sighed. "Yes, it probably would, but Artemis was a moon goddess, and the phase of the moon won't be right until then. To incorporate all the parts of the spell, it should wait. This is a very complicated thing. Trust me when I say you don't want to take chances on experimental spells."
Ginny winced, knowing Luna was referring to her mother's accidental death. She sighed wearily. "I know. I'm sorry I'm so impatient. I just feel like I could have a mental breakdown before then. Harry hunted me down in the library this morning, wanting a snogfest, so now I've got to do that blasted purification ritual again. Then Ron gave me an in-person howler about mistreating Harry." Ginny cursed a blue streak. "Those idiots seriously need Hermione back before I kill them both."
Luna gave her a sympathetic glance. "Just a few more days; you can do it."
They entered the Charms classroom, finding seats near the back. They were whispering intensely when Ron entered the room, taking his seat before glaring at his sister. He looked pointedly at Harry's empty chair and then back at her, clearly blaming her for the fact that he had to attend class alone.
Ginny shook her head, glaring right back, muttering under her breath. "Ugh, I can't believe I'm doing all this for them. Stupid gits are going to regret acting like this. I am feeling a strong urge to hex someone."
"Don't," Luna advised. "You've got to save your magic."
"I'm going to ask Pomfrey for a potion to make me sleep for three days. I can't take this," Ginny grumbled, jiggling her knees and twiddling her quill.
Luna chuckled. "If you do, make sure it's dreamless sleep. You're suffering from an excess buildup of magical essence, besides exhaustion, right now, and it's causing all your tension. One wicked dream and you could release it."
Ginny snorted. "Great. Absolutely bloody spectacular." She was as jittery as if she'd taken a double dose of pepper-up potion with a chaser of triple-strength black tea. "Can I fly at least, you think?"
Luna narrowed her eyes, considering. "Yes, that should be fine. Swimming would be a better source of physical activity, however."
"Yeah, if I wanted to freeze to death in the lake," Ginny retorted.
"Prefect's bathroom," Luna reminded.
Ginny breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. "You're a genius, my friend." She gathered her things, patted Luna's shoulder and headed for the front of the room. She paused to whisper to Professor Flitwick, whose cheeks turned pink as he shooed her out the door.
She sniggered, shaking her head as she ducked into the prefect's bathroom and started the taps filling the huge basin. "I love being a girl. 'Feminine issues' make such a handy excuse to skive off classes." She transfigured her underthings into a bikini and dove into the fragrant, bubble-filled water. The mermaid on the wall flicked her tail and tossed her hair, uninterested in the female swimmer. Ginny swam lap after lap until she was utterly exhausted. She pulled a fluffy towel off the rack and spread it on the floor under a warming lamp. She stretched out to relax, hoping Moaning Myrtle would stay away. She dozed off, dreaming of sunny seashores and summer breezes.
Harry awoke from his nap feeling irritable. He'd dreamt of the Sorting Hat again, and the blasted thing had been speaking in riddles, trying to tell him to do something.
He decided it was a good time to go flying to clear his head and improve his mood. As he resolutely headed out of the tower, shouldering his broom, he paused to watch a moving staircase switch directions. He watched as it settled in the direction of the hospital wing, seemingly reproaching him for not visiting his friend. "Fine, I'll just pop up and visit Hermione for a moment first, then, shall I?" he huffed sarcastically.
Hermione was as pale and still as usual. Harry stood next to her bed, touching the back of her hand to reassure himself that her skin was still warm. He noticed her hair had been braided and assumed her mother had been to visit her already this morning.
"I wish you were awake, Hermione," he whispered, drawing up a chair to sit on. He raised the head of the bed so he could pretend she was more alert. "I'm sorry Fawkes couldn't help you. He did sing for quite awhile, though." He paused to stare intently at her face, willing her eyelids to flutter. Not so much as an eyelash moved, and he slumped. He turned away, looking out the enchanted window, spelled to spill sunshine into the quiet little space. He despondently watched fluffy clouds drift by, trying to think of some positive news to share with her so he wouldn't be tempted to unload his problems with Ginny on her. He straightened his shoulders.
"On a good note, the Death Eater attacks seem to have slowed down," he told her. "Lupin is afraid they're saving themselves up for some nasty hits on Christmas, but we've warned the D.A. members to be on high alert and not to be heroes. They've all got enough emergency Portkeys to get themselves and their families to safety. Luna and Hannah went through the magical birth records book for the last ten years to get names of all Muggle-borns and sent members of the Order 'round to each of them, explaining things and setting up wards. They gave them Portkeys set to deploy to safehouses, so I think we've got magical people covered as best we can. Muggles though, well, there's just so many of them, and we have no way to know where the Death Eaters will strike. They've made announcements on the telly and radio, giving Muggles a phone number that connects them to the MLE offices. We reckon it's a good thing Death Eaters would never stoop so low as to use any kind of Muggle devices. If they saw those warnings, they'd be even harder to stay ahead of. Now if we could just keep the captured Death Eaters locked up in Azkaban, we'd be getting somewhere. I have to tell you, Mr. Weasley thought that diagram you did in Ron's notebook about making magic batteries was particularly ingenious."
He watched her for a few more moments, dragging his hand through his hair more than once in frustration. "I wish I could just see what's going on in your head. There is no way I'd risk Legilimency doing more damage though. There must be another way…. Oh!" he blinked. "I'll be right back!"
He dashed out of the hospital wing, headed for McGonagall's office. He reappeared moments later, carrying the Sorting Hat. "Couldn't get through the gargoyle without the password, but Accio worked just fine," he chuckled smugly. "Now, let's see what the hat can do." He settled the brim around Hermione's head. He watched in puzzlement as the hat remained silent. He pulled it off her, loosening strands of hair from her braid, and crammed it on his own head.
"Potter, how nice to look into your mind again," he heard the hat's gravelly voice in his head. Well of course he hadn't heard it talking to Hermione, he thought. It talked inside a person's head.
"Erm, hello," Harry said. "Can you tell me anything about the head you were just on? It's Hermione Granger, and there's something wrong with her, you see, and I hoped you could help."
"That would be a breach of confidentiality," the hat said reproachfully.
"No, please," Harry pleaded. "I don't want to know her thoughts, unless she asks you to tell me something. I just wanted to know if you can tell us how to help her get well again."
The hat seemed to pause in thought. "Well, I see that you are sincere in wanting to help her. Let me try her again. I may not have gotten a thorough look last time."
Harry obliged, leaving the hat on her head for several minutes this time before putting it back on his own.
"Well, she's in there alright," the hat confirmed. "But she doesn't know how to get out. She's sealed herself in several layers of Occlumency shields, and with the damage inflicted by repeated Legilimency attacks, she can't find her way back out. If anyone attempts using Legilimency, even to help her, her mind will add more shields."
"Did it cause more damage when I put you on her head?" Harry worried.
"No, I do not use Legilimency," the hat reassured. "Though I could not communicate directly with her, I sensed very muted emotions through many, many layers. There was fear, but mainly determination. She's working diligently to get back through. It will take some time, but she will find a way," the hat said confidently.
Harry heard the click of heels on the hard floor. He hastily patted Hermione's shoulder. "I'll see you later, Hermione. I think Madam Pomfrey wants to force-feed you some potions right now, and I have to get the hat back before McGonagall misses it."
Not wanting to be noticed, Harry Disillusioned himself before leaving the hospital wing. He banished the hat back to the shelf in McGonagall's office and spent an hour or so on his broom, wondering what to do with the hat's information. It wasn't really anything new. They had suspected as much already. It was reassuring to know Voldemort hadn't broken into Hermione's mind. Still, time was a precious commodity that seemed to be running short, and they really needed Hermione to wake up soon.
Harry put his broom in the broom shed, deciding to search out Lupin.
He entered the castle, heading directly for the twins' workshop they'd set up in an empty classroom.
"Harry!" Fred and George crowed.
"How goes the battle?"
"How absolutely corking of you to ask!" Fred flashed a bright smile that showed entirely too many teeth. "Lupin's told you about the Werewolf Wonders capsules, hasn't he?"
Harry nodded and smiled. He thought Lupin had been happier that day than he'd seen him ever before, with the possible exception of his wedding.
"Well, we've secured the patent for them, and we've got contacts through St. Mungo's to do market research, but obviously they'll be huge sellers." Fred grinned.
"They are less expensive to make, so they're more accessible," George explained. "Essentially, we made a batch of concentrated Wolfsbane Potion--Hermione's recipe, of course--then did a stasis charm, dehydrated the lot of it, filled these capsules and shrunk them down. If a werewolf takes three capsules a day with a glass of water for the week leading up to a full moon, he still transforms, but keeps his mind. The trip around the world thing was fun, according to the Lupins, but they're not comfortable being so far away very often."
Harry nodded. "Makes sense. But that brings us to the next item of business, doesn't it?"
Fred and George sported identical maniacal grins. "What, you mean…"
"Our diabolical plan for a certain former instructor of ours?" Fred's eyes glinted.
"You know, we thought perhaps we ought to send her a little gift," George mused.
"As a 'thank you,' really," Fred continued, "for being such a brilliant source of continuing inspiration."
"Not to mention the driving force of legislation that brings us new customers daily."
"Really, we owe her quite a lot."
"I owe her a bit myself," Harry glanced at the scar still etched into his hand.
"Lupin, though, he swears he owes her the most," George said. "He just really wouldn't be where he is today if it weren't for her. So he's in charge, as we wrote in his contract."
Fred frowned. "He's not in such a bad place these days. I don't see why he should get to have all the fun."
"Well, as much gratitude as we all feel towards her, Lupin has had to deal with a lot more lemons and really deserves the right to make lemonade out of her."
"Now that is a disturbing picture," George's lip curled in disgust. "Why do I see her dressed in yellow with a giant hand squashing and turning her on one of those manual juicer things Muggles use?"
Fred patted his twin's shoulder reassuringly. "It's just the voices in your head. They're friendly, once you get to know them."
Professor Lupin strolled into the room then, interrupting Harry's sniggers.
"Harry! How good of you to stop by! Any news on Hermione?"
"No change," Harry sighed. "The Sorting Hat says she's still trapped in her own Occlumency shields, trying to find her way out."
"Ah, the Sorting Hat. Good idea. Well, I'm sure it knows what it's talking about. She'll come around," Lupin said bracingly. "It's just a matter of time."
"Er, be careful what you touch there, yeah?" Fred interjected, waving Harry away from the work table. "Wouldn't want you to inadvertently test a beauty potion by mistake."
"Beauty potion?" Harry blinked at Fred, not for the first time wondering if the twins shared a brain and Fred got gypped.
George chuckled. "Well, we've been watching the telly quite a lot."
"There are two Canadian doctors who have caused a stir with something called 'Batox,'" Fred added enthusiastically.
"Botox, actually," Lupin clarified. "But we've adapted it a bit."
"You're gonna love this," Fred interrupted.
"You see, Botox is a sort of Muggle beauty potion." Lupin handed Harry a brochure. "They use a needle to inject it under their skin to remove wrinkles."
Harry nodded. He seemed to remember Aunt Petunia mentioning it.
"Well, Witch Weekly has begun advertising a beauty product that is more or less the equivalent in our world." Lupin's lips twitched.
"Dare I speculate on the origin of this product?" Harry asked dryly.
"Currently, it is only available by owl order," Lupin inclined his head modestly. "Conveniently enough, the distributors of this modern magical miracle are now privy to some rather sensitive information."
"Mhmm. I see." Harry frowned, wondering when Lupin had gotten sucked into the twins' convoluted method of conveying information.
"You can't think of an ugly old hag who'd want to order a bit of a beautifying cream?" George grinned and some of the loose puzzle pieces clinked into place.
"Ahhh," Harry breathed. "Brilliant."
"Yes, it has been working rather well, we believe," Lupin said. "It has been marketed most carefully to a select target group. Samples were included in a recent issue of Witch Weekly, specifically in the subscriptions in the Ministry offices."
"Those samples were an actual beauty cream," George said. "We couldn't target her issue specifically, of course, so we placed an ad in the magazine, adding the samples to the ones delivered to the Ministry. They were, of course, free of any suspicious ingredients, developed to do exactly what we advertised."
Fred interrupted, "Tonks sat for the photos so we could do before and after shots. She might have enhanced the results a tiny bit."
Lupin continued, "We've set up a cover company, of course, called Siren's Song, to handle these sorts of products."
"What are you doing with this?" Harry held up small shard of glass from the work table.
"Ah, well, that's one of the ingredients."
"Broken glass?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Well, we can hardly go about poking needles in people's foreheads like Muggles do," George snorted. "We grind a bit of glass into a fine powder. That's how the potion penetrates the skin. It's small enough to not cause pain or any actual skin damage, it just causes a bit of a tingly feeling; and allows the rest of the potion ingredients to work."
"What are the rest of the ingredients?" Harry inquired.
"Erm," Fred tapped his lower lip thoughtfully. "It is a closely guarded secret, but I trust you won't take the information to the competition?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "No, I tend not to visit executives at cosmetics companies anyway, but under pain of the Cruciatus, I would not reveal your secrets." He crossed his heart, the way he'd seen Muggle children do at school.
"All right then," Fred clapped his shoulder. "It's called Batox for a reason, see," his voice dropped to a confidential whisper. "Sound it out with me: Baaaattt…Oxxx…. Get it?"
"Bat and ox?" Harry guessed.
George chuckled. "Tricky name, yeah?"
"More specifically, bat wing and ox blood," Lupin clarified.
Harry just nodded, not really understanding--or honestly caring--why those two ingredients would be essential to a cosmetic potion. "So...batwing, ox blood and ground glass for removing wrinkles. Samples at the Ministry. I'm with you so far."
"Sure enough, the samples found their way to the correct person," Fred gleefully continued. "And here, in our hot little hands, we hold the order form from one Dolores Umbridge."
"We debated on sending her a gift, as we mentioned before," George said. "But couldn't think of anyone who'd send her something, and figured she'd be too suspicious to open it, much less use or ingest anything she received anonymously."
"So this appealed to her sense of greed, with the free samples, and her vanity," Harry raised a brow and gave a soft round of applause. "Fantastic. And now she's paying you," he added in awe.
Lupin quirked a brow. "I hope this fulfills that particular obligation in my contract."
"Not so fast." Harry paused. "Beauty cream doesn't really constitute revenge."
"Well, now that she's a dedicated customer, we can add 'improvements' to her potions."
"Ahhh, now it gets interesting." Harry's eyes narrowed.
"It always was interesting." Fred appeared tragically wounded.
"We've taken the liberty of customizing this particular customer's potion," Lupin said.
"Added werewolf saliva, gillyweed, toad slime..." George ticked the ingredients off on his fingers.
"What will werewolf saliva do?" Harry frowned. "I can't see any benefit in turning that pain-in-the-arse into an actual werewolf. She doesn't need teeth to do any more damage."
"Oh no." Lupin shook his head emphatically. "She would need a bite to become a werewolf. No, you see, the gillyweed should bind with the werewolf saliva, causing some rather interesting aquatic tendencies."
"So when will you test it?"
The predator in Lupin was never more apparent than the look on his face right now. "Soon."
The morning Hogwarts students were to be released for Christmas holidays dawned crisp and clear. Or at least that was the view Ginny had from the enchanted window near Hermione's bed. She had been maintaining a vigil at her friend's bedside since midnight, chanting incantations until she was hoarse. Finally, as pink streaks of dawn appeared on the horizon, Ginny waved her wand in a complex pattern over Hermione's inert body, finishing with a flourish and a soft incantation. A muffled snap reminded Ginny of Harry. It was exactly the sound of him popping her elastic hair ties off her ponytail with his wand. She automatically reached for her hair before realizing that wasn't the source of the sound. Her eyes widened the sound snapped again and Hermione's body trembled on the bed. Several popping noises later, Hermione's body had been replaced by that of a small caramel-coloured cat. If Ginny hadn't been terrified that she'd done something wrong, she would've been amused to notice that the cat had Hermione's bushy hair.
Keeping her fingers crossed, Ginny stared intently at the little animal, as if she could make her stir simply through force of will.
Crookshanks and Rina pelted through the hospital wing door, leaping on the bed to pounce on this new feline friend. They purred and made chirpy greeting noises as they nuzzled her, tickling her ears with their whiskers.
Ginny sucked a breath in through her teeth, wondering if she was imagining the twitch of the cat's eyelids. As the cats continued their verbal and physical encouragement, Ginny added her own. "C'mon Hermione, please move, you can do it. Wake up for Christmas. Wake up for Ron," she pleaded.
As she watched with growing excitement and no small amount of trepidation, the cat began to stir. First with small movements of her toes and paws, moving up to her legs until finally she opened her brown eyes.
"Oh Merlin," Ginny breathed softly, "Hermione? Can you hear me? Are you in there?" Hermione blinked and focused on Ginny's face.
"Hermione, don't be mad, please, I had to turn you into a cat to wake you up," Ginny said in a rush. "Hermione? Do you understand me?"
"Meow?"