A/N: Well, it's actually been less than a month this time! No, really, I need to update more often. I've got vacation coming up in ... 1 WEEK!!!!! ... so I'll be able to do it then.
Warning: this chapter is VERY fluffy. I got kind of tired of writing "heavy". Don't worry, it'll be back to angst as usual next chapter.
Thanks so much to the reviewers from last chapter, Miss Lady Padfoot and Aelita-Fan-426. Thanks as always to THE Sanity Master for beta-ing.
NB: You don't have to read the whole thing, just skip down about halfway down the page ... thanks! :)
Disclaimer: Nothing in the Harry Potter universe belongs to me.
Making Plans
"Come on," Mark whispered, pulling at her wrists. "Can you get up by yourself?"
Grace slowly got to her feet. Mark held her elbows and steered her up three flights of stairs to the Hospital Wing.
"Mercy! Three weeks here and come to me already!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey loudly. "Just like your cousin, you are. Get her over to that bed, Mr. Parkinson, and let me have a look at her."
Madam Pomfrey hurried into her office. Mark helped Grace over to the bed the nurse had pointed out.
"I'm not that bad," Grace muttered. "Just … it was a shock … I mean …"
"Who did it?" Mark demanded. "Why would anyone want to …?"
"I don't know," Grace lied as Madam Pomfrey bustled back in, her first aid kit and a piece of parchment and quill trailing in the air behind her.
"Let's see, Miss Potter," she muttered, forcing Grace to lie down. "All better? All right … this was the work of an older student, I presume?"
"I –" her feeble attempts at answering were stopped by Madam Pomfrey shoving a spoonful of some potion into her mouth. Grace choked as she tried to swallow.
"Careful now … easy does it …"
"Mark!" Grace sputtered. "Could you get my cousin for me? He's supposed to be in Charms second period …"
"Right," her friend muttered, and ran off.
"Absolute insanity!" Madam Pomfrey was saying as she marked something down on the parchment. "They're grown children, they should know better than to push the little ones around-"
"I'm not little!"
"Mmmm," murmured the nurse, neither agreeing nor disagreeing as she screwed the stopper back onto potion jar. "You can be sure I'll be speaking to the headmaster about this. He's got to put a stop to it!
"There now, you should be feeling the effects of the Pepper Up soon, I'll be back in a few minutes with a bruising salve, doesn't look like there'll be much but it can't hurt …"
And she bustled back into the office, leaving Grace alone in the infirmary. She waited anxiously on the bed for a few minutes, looking at the portraits on the wall. And then there was a bubbling, burning sensation. She felt as if a bubble was rising in her throat, as if she was about to throw up – and then her face grew hot and steam gushed out her ears.
Ah, of course. Pepper Up Potion. Ugh.
"Gracie?"
She looked over to the door where Harry and Mark were entering. Harry had his bag slung over one shoulder and was quickly making his way towards the bed where she sat.
"Merlin, what happened?"
"Merlin?"
"I found her in the hallway near History of Magic," Mark piped up, ignoring Grace. "She wouldn't tell me what happened."
Harry stood awkwardly in front of his sister, staring down at the younger boy. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Mark Parkinson."
"Any relation to Pansy?"
Mark cringed. "She's my cousin."
Harry shook his head before turning his attention back to Grace. "Who did this to you?"
She couldn't answer him. She began to wonder why she had sent Mark for her brother in the first place.
"Would you mind leaving us alone for a little?" Harry said to the Slytherin boy.
"Uh …okay," Mark said uneasily, looking from Grace to Harry. He seemed a little in awe of her brother. "You sure you'll be all right?"
"Yeah," Grace smiled. "Thanks so much for helping me out."
"Any time," Mark replied, then hurried out of the Hospital Wing.
When he was gone, Harry made sure Madam Pomfrey wasn't listening, then asked in an urgent whisper, "Who did this to you?"
"I fell down the stairs?"
"Come on," Harry whispered. "Who did this, and why?"
Grace sighed and looked away. "Malfoy," she said finally. Harry let out a hiss of breath. "I don't know why he did, he wasn't making very much sense … it was more … I dunno, venting anger? It could have been much worse, though, so don't get all exci-"
"Don't get all excited?" Harry snapped back. "Malfoy just beat you up, and you don't want me to get excited?"
"You don't know what it's like for him –"
Harry just stared at his sister.
"You'll feel terrible tomorrow, even if you feel all right now," he said, abruptly changing the subject. "Trust me, these things tend to sneak up on you. But Madam Pomfrey'll make it easier on you than most people have it."
"Harry-"
"- If you're sure you're all right, I've got some business to take care of …"
"Harry-" Grace snapped as her brother made his way down the aisle between the rows of beds. But he paid no attention.
The door slammed shut behind him. Grace settled back, leaning against the stone wall. She picked at a loose thread on her robes. There shouldn't be any loose threads, Madam Malkins' was supposed to have better quality than this …
She wasn't badly beaten up – even Madam Pomfrey didn't seem that worried, which was quite a statement if you took into account the school nurse's tendency to overreact about everything. So … why did she feel so …depressed?
Dudley, Piers, Malcolm Gordan, Mark Evans, Sam Peters, Lanie Peters, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley … SARAH!!!
Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, G-d, how could she have forgotten about her? Sarah … she wasn't even two years old …
She could feel tears beginning to prickle at the corners of her eyes, but – NO – she wouldn't cry again, not after sobbing like a baby last night …
Like a baby …
Sarah'd never have a chance to grow up –
Anger quickly overpowered her sadness. Grace felt a mad desire to rip, to kill, to tear apart that Death Eater that had murdered an innocent baby …
She felt around in her pocket until she found her wand. Eleven and a half inches, maple wood and unicorn hair. So simple. Wood, and a magical substance. It was nothing more than a stick really. How could a simple stick kill people?
She pulled the wand out of her inside pocket, clutching to it like a lifeline. All she'd manage to do in class so far was cast simple spells – she'd only cast an elementary Switching Spell the day before.
How much power could one little stick hold? To … to kill, to force people to feel pain, to cause suffering for thousands of people. The power that had killed Grammy and Sarah was the same power that could have saved them.
It all depended on your thoughts, she figured. Your intentions. The magic had to be harnessed. Whether for good or for bad, it all depended on the spellcaster.
I'll never use magic for bad – never! She was gripping her wand so tightly that several yellow and black sparks shot out of its tip.
"Miss Potter!"
Grace looked up to see Madam Pomfrey hurrying across the Hospital Wing towards her. She realized for the first time that she was breathing fast and that each breath she took hurt so much that it felt like her lungs were about to burst.
"Calm down, you have to relax now," Madam Pomfrey said, pulling Grace's wand out of her grasp and laying it on the bedside table. "The Pepper Up requires that you remain calm for at least fifteen minutes afterwards! Just lie there and don't do anything!"
Grace smirked as Professor Snape's detention the night before came back to her.
"Don't worry, I'm good at that," she murmured. She swung her legs up onto the bed and settled back to wait the required fifteen minutes.
Professor Binns hadn't seemed to notice her absence when Grace tiptoed into his class twenty minutes later. She quickly took the seat nearest the door – next to Mark Parkinson.
"Sorry I didn't come back in," he whispered as she pulled parchment and a quill from her bag. "Snape made me go back to class. You all right?"
"Pretty well," she whispered back.
Mark grinned and turned back to the front of the classroom, where Binns was droning on. "You know, last week I was sitting in this class the whole time and he didn't notice. Came over to me afterwards and asked why I'd missed his class."
"Pathetic. I used to like History."
Mark pulled a face.
"No really," Grace continued. "My Gram used to make it really interesting when she taught me. History's not so bad, you just have to picture it like a storybook and then … it clicks."
"Or a play," Mark whispered back. "You could write your notes as a dialogue, getting in all the information –"
"Yeah, I know someone who tried that once," Grace said excitedly. "It was really easy, and he remembered everything really well."
"You want to do that? Write a skit about History of Magic?"
Grace looked towards the front of the classroom once again before replying with a grin. "Sure."
During the break, the two of them reviewed their notes from History of Magic.
"International Confederation of Wizards: How dare you undermine our authority? We are the most important governing body in the wizarding world! We are so great that-
"Ogden Livingston: You are nothing but pompous windbags! I killed my daddy so I could rule over you and you want to stop me?
"ICW: YES!
"OL: Well, you can't stop me! I shall rule the world! MWAHAHAHA!
"Percival Crankton: Stupefy!
"ICW: Yay! Ogden's down! Surround him, suck out his soul, KILL HIM! Percival, now you are our ruler!"
Grace grimaced as she looked over at Mark, who was smiling broadly. "Are you sure that's what Professor Binns said?"
"Wasn't it?"
"How should I know, I wasn't paying attention!"
She sighed. "I guess it's not that bad, all things considered. What do you say? Wanna perform?"
"I can't believe we're actually going to do this!"
"Relax," Grace said, patting Mark encouragingly on the arm. "It's not like there's anyone around."
True enough, they had barricaded themselves into an empty classroom during dinner that night. No one would walk in on them.
"I know," Mark said, "but I still feel really stupid. Won't they notice we're missing?"
"Relax! I'm telling you, doing this works. You know the kid I told you about, who wrote all his notes in dialogue?" Mark nodded. "He got all A's."
"I don't want A's, I want O's."
Oh. Of course. "A's in the Muggle World translate into O's in the wizarding world, Mark," Grace said with a sigh.
"Oh. Nifty."
She grinned. "What?"
"Nifty."
"Who taught you to speak like a Muggle?" she said, grinning so hard she thought her face would break.
"Picked it up from some teenagers at Diagon Alley. Tried to go into the Weasleys' shop, but Mum wouldn't let me. They were hanging around outside … why?"
Suddenly, the dam burst and Grace started giggling. "That phrase is about … I dunno … twenty years old!"
Mark blushed.
"All right," Grace said as she regained control of herself. "Shall we start?"
Mark nodded and jumped into action, reading off the scripts and gesturing like a speaker. "It is my belief that wizarding society is falling by the wayside. Our children are less educated than the Muggles. Commerce is an especially big concern of mine. So therefore, I, Odgen Livingston, am going to take over the International Confederation of Wizards and become Ruler Supreme!!!!! Thank you."
"Ahhhh!" Grace cried, throwing her hands over her face. "Ogden Livingston is a tyrant!" she continued in an unnaturally high voice. "He's already made a shambles out of being the English Minister of Magic, and now he wants to rule every wizarding community in the world?"
"We're doomed!" Mark chimed in. "Who will save us now?"
"I am Percival Crankton!" Grace proclaimed in her best hero voice. "I vow to stop Ogden Livingston from taking over! He killed all of my uncles, so I will not rest until I get revenge on him …"
"Yay! Ogden's down! Surround him, suck out his soul, KILL HIM! Percival, you now are our leader!"
"Done!" Grace cried happily as she collapsed onto the floor. "That was exhausting."
Mark sat down next to her. "What did Dumbledore talk to you about this morning?" he asked quietly. "Before you got beaten up."
It took Grace a moment to answer. "It was about the attack. I knew some of the people who'd died …" Try most of them.
"I'm sorry …"
"I know. You know all those sixth years?"
"Harry Potter?"
"Yeah. Dumbledore said they were all going to a meeting tonight. I … I wanted to go …"
"You think we could?" Mark asked excitedly.
"Sure! I know where they're having it and everything – my cousin told me."
"Where is it then?"
"The Room of Requirement," Grace said as though she was spitting back a textbook. "Seventh floor, opposite a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy …"
"Who?"
"We do him in third year. He was clubbed to death by a bunch of trolls he'd been trying to train for the ballet."
"What?"
"Yeah, crazy, huh?" Grace sat up eagerly. "You know, we really could do it! Only … we'd need an Invisibility Cloak or something. Harry has one, but there's no way he'd let us borrow it for this."
"I know a kid in third year who's got one," Mark said, getting to his feet. "Come on, let's go ask him for it."
Secret info, here we come! Grace thought as she ran down to the Slytherin Common Room after her friend.
A/N: Aw, come on, please review before I have to beg!
