Chapter Five – Blutak?
(A/N: This chapter is a lot shorter than the other 'Chapter Five', because I deleted the dream thingy. I decided to do two versions of the story, one AU, one 'real world'. Thanks to elemental-girl, firelegs, and High Serpent King for answering the survey:)
In actuality, two people said 'real world', and one said 'reliving his life', which is something I never thought about, but I'll take that as an 'AU' vote. But my vote was 'two versions', so...well. I'm just going to go with my plan. Heh heh heh.
Update Feb. 22nd, 2006: No, I'm not going to do two versions, I changed my mind. New readers, you missed the author's note I just deleted, so I'm putting it here.)
Blaise dashed along the hall, terrifying quite a few fellow first-years (Hufflepuffs) as he went. As he ran, though, a thought slowly surfaced in his mind: Harry had no idea where the hospital wing was.
It took a while before this thought actually registered properly. When it did, though, Blaise stopped abruptly and sighed in frustration. How the heck was he supposed to find Harry and possibly stop him dying a premature death at Draco's hands, or at least stop him getting lost?
He was near the hospital wing, though, so he hopefully strode towards the white door with the gleaming golden plaque, and reached out for the doorknob when it opened.
He barely had time to register who it was when he/she/it walked right into him. With a muffled 'Oof!' they both fell onto the hard marble floor.
'Blaise!' Harry said in surprise, scrambling off his friend. 'What are you doing here?'
'That's nice,' said Blaise, attempting to get up. '"What are you doing here?" Not "Hi, Blaise" or even a "Sorry I knocked you over, Blaise".'
'Right,' said Harry sheepishly, helping him up. 'Sorry.'
'I think my back is broken,' said Blaise, wincing as he tried to stretch.
Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes again. 'No, it isn't,' he said. 'All you did was fall down, you'll be fine.'
'How'd you find the hospital wing?' Blaise asked, as they walked back to the dungeons.
Harry shrugged. 'I suspect that it was the only way that I could have found the hospital wing without yours or Draco's help, which would sort of spoil the upcoming scene's drama, so the author had me find myself standing right next to it by what I thought was pure luck, but it was probably just luck.'
'Oooookay…' said Blaise cautiously, clearly thinking Harry was unhinged.
'I'm not unhinged!' Harry protested.
'Right. Suuuuuuuuure you're not, Harry.'
They had reached the dungeons. Blaise muttered the password and they stepped through the door. A few fifth-year Slytherins glanced up, but went back to whatever they were doing. Harry was relieved that most of them didn't seem to hate him as much now, or at least they didn't show it, anyway.
They walked up the cold stone staircase to their dormitory and relaxed on their beds. Harry examined the bottle of eye drops. There was no label.
'I can't remember how many drops Madame Pomfrey said to take,' Harry said aloud.
Blaise shrugged, though Harry couldn't see him. 'Ask.'
'I'm not going back there!'
'Oh, you encountered Draco, did you? Okay then…try one drop first.'
Harry shook his head. 'I think that's too little.'
'Oh yeah, Pomfrey's stuff only works if you do it exactly right. I don't know, three then.'
Harry thought about this. It sounded right enough. He shrugged, tipped his head back, raised the tiny bottle, dropping exactly three drops into his right eye and repeating with the other one. He blinked, hard, and put the bottle away.
Nothing eventful happened until the next morning.
Breakfast the next morning was a bit strained, since Draco and Harry were not speaking to each other (Draco having been released from the hospital wing that morning). They sat on either side of Blaise, Harry occasionally asking Blaise to pass the marmalade or such, and Draco not speaking at all.
Lessons didn't go too well. The work for that day in Transfiguration required two people working together, and Professor McGonagall made the unfortunate mistake of pairing Draco and Harry together. Sparks were literally flying when the class ended, though Professor McGonagall couldn't do anything other than take a few points from Slytherin for not concentrating on their work (several times), since they hadn't technically really done anything extreme enough to warrant a detention.
Lunch and supper were pretty much the same as breakfast, except that instead of Harry asking Blaise to pass the butter or jam or such, he stayed silent. Blaise tried to get them talking to each other, but to no avail: they only spoke to Blaise, and only when he asked something or whatever, and only in short answers. Mostly 'yes' and 'no' responses.
Finally, Blaise gave up, sighed, and ate his dinner in silence.
The next day, Harry got up and went down to the common room to find a notice (somehow) affixed to the (oddly enough, also stone) bulletin board. Flying lessons would start on Thursday, it stated, and Slytherin and Gryffindor would be learning together.
Harry sighed. Ain't that just fine, he thought. Now I have a chance to make a fool out of myself in front of everyone. I wonder how that notice is stuck to that board?
Harry reached up and pulled the parchment off the stone. Oh. Blu-Tak.
He went down to breakfast alone.
When Draco and Blaise came down, Harry noticed that Draco seemed to have come out of his 'silent time'. He was talking animatedly to Blaise about something, and Blaise was rolling his eyes and nodding uninterestedly.
Blaise saw Harry and sat down next to him. Draco scowled slightly, but his talking never ceased, and he sat down beside Blaise. Harry wondered if he even knew Blaise wasn't listening, or if he just enjoyed listening to the sound of his own voice.
'…and then I nearly crashed into it, but due to my excellent flying skills, I managed to avoid it, swerving sharply to the left…'
So Draco had seen the notice. Apparently he was talking about his 'excellent flying skills'. Well, Harry would have to see it before he believed it.
At 3:30 pm, Harry, who had previously been studying in the library, hurried onto the grounds for his flying lessons, hoping he wasn't late. He saw Ron and the other Gryffindors in front of him, so he slowed down and waited for them to get there first.
The other Slytherins were already there, and beside them were twenty broomsticks lying in two neat rows on the grass. Harry joined them, but kept at a short distance away from Draco.
Just then, their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. 'Well, what are you all waiting for?' she said. 'Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up…'
Everyone rushed to claim a spot. When everyone else was standing by a broomstick, Harry scowled when he saw that the only spot left was beside Draco. He stalked over to the broomstick and stood beside him, crossing his arms and deliberately ignoring him.
'Stick your right hand out over the broom,' Madm Hooch instructed, 'and say, "Up!"'
'UP!' everyone yelled.
Harry's broom jumped into his hand; it was one of the few that did. He noticed that Draco's broom had not moved, and he couldn't help grinning. Draco scowled and picked it up from the ground quickly.
Blaise, who was next to Draco, sighed. At least they're acknowledging each other, I guess, he thought.
'Cheater,' Harry said under his breath innocently, just loud enough for Draco to hear. Draco scowled even more. Harry grinned again.
Madam Hooch sighed at her class's disappointing performance. 'We'll move on to mounting our brooms, then. Swing your right over the broom…over the broom, mind you…'
She sighed again as everyone struggled (and failed) to mount their brooms and the height it had risen to and walked up and down the rows, checking everyone's progress, if any, and correcting (a lot of) mistakes.
'No, Malfoy, how many times have I told you, you don't force the broom down to the proper height? You help the broom, the broom does not help you. You've been doing it wrong for years…'
Harry couldn't fathom how Madam Hooch knew Malfoy had been doing it wrong for years when this was their first year, but he was happy anyway. He saw Ron grinning too. He caught his eye but Ron quickly looked away, no longer smiling.
When Madam Hooch was finally satisfied that they knew how to mount their brooms correctly, she told them, 'Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle – three...two – '
Neville Longbottom pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.
'Come back, boy!' she shouted, but Neville was rising up quick – twelve feet – fifteen – twenty feet…
Neville's now pale white face looked down. Big mistake. His eyes widened, he gasped, and slid sideways off the broom.
He fell.
Harry winced when he hit the ground.
elemental-girl I always need help. I just choose not to ask for it. firelegs Thanks! Great idea too, never thought of that. Unfortunately I probably won't be using. Two versions is already a bit too much. Thanks anyway, though. HarrySlytherinson Here's an update...though not really very 'soon' is it:) High Serpent King Yeah, I know, the title's REALLY lame. Lameness IS my specialty, though. :)