Chapter 13: the potions fanatic.
This chapter's 6 pages long, but if you could review at the end I would love it.
Having Phorion with him helped Harry over the next couple of weeks. For one thing, she gave him, Ron and Hermione a clear berth if they wanted to get to class, or anywhere else. For another, she knew vaguely of the centaurs plans, and obviously how they think, meaning that they were usually one step ahead of them. Most of the time.
'OK guys, they're the Sensors, time to move. Sorry, Professor,' Harry added, for McGonagall was looking at him mildly harshly. 'I'm in charge; you can do what you want, though,' he said in what he hoped to be a reassuring kind of way. Then he turned to more pressing matters.
'Phorion?' Harry called, and Phorion came trotting into their Transfiguration class.
'I – I didn't know they were coming, the stars –'
'It doesn't matter; let's get out of here whilst we still can. Coming, Professor?' he asked, and she nodded.
'Good,' he said shortly. 'Wands out, you know the rules. Now, we're too near the third floor, but there's a secret passageway near here. Stay close to me and you'll be fine.'
Harry led them out to the corridor, where there were many other people in addition to them, trooping around; none of them seemed to have a leader.
'Keep quiet and don't stay in one place for too long,' he called out to them; they seemed quite shocked.
Harry led them behind a picture of a witch in a meadow to a small concealed corridor that Harry knew lead to the Charms' department, where they spent the next hour.
'Is everyone OK?' Harry asked, looking around. Everyone nodded.
'Potter, I didn't know you were like this,' McGonagall said unexpectedly. All eyes were on Harry.
'I'm not anything special,' Harry said, trying to ignore the fact that people were now smiling at him.
'This is the last time I say: "I told you so",' Hermione said, and everyone laughed; everyone except Phorion. Harry walked up to her, and the heads flicked back to their neighbours, but not many people talked; Harry had warned them not to.
'Phorion, are you OK?' Harry whispered; she looked very upset.
'This is my entire fault,' she whispered, her head in her hands. 'I don't know how I didn't see this, I – I,' and she stopped talking. Harry hated seeing one of his friends upset; he gave her a one-armed hug.
'You're safe, you know that, don't you,' he said.
'They're after me,' she whispered. 'My herd must have said something about me up in your school, and they've come to look for me – they'll do what they did to my love to me. I don't want to go. I am young,' she finished, and tears came down her face. Hermione slipped her hand out of Ron's and came over to Harry and Phorion. Harry stepped back to the group, which were all looking anxiously at Phorion.
'You're all fine,' Harry assured them. 'Honest,' he added as the thunderous sound of hooves could be heard; they sounded very near. Several people muffled screams and grabbed the person next to them in fright; they could hear the centaurs talking; Hermione stood up as quick as a flash of lightning, and (to many people's surprises) swore; she pointed her wand at the portrait hole, and dashed off at the other end an they heard her do the same. Everyone stared at her as she came back, panting.
'I – put an – Impertuable charm – on the entrances,' she gasped.
'Good thinking,' Harry said, and everyone nodded, impressed, except for McGonagall.
'Miss Granger, will you hold your tongue!' she lashed out. Hermione turned a bit pink, and opened her mouth to speak, but Harry cut across her.
'I'm in charge here, and I'd rather if you didn't insult the person who probably saved all of our necks,' he said loudly, and McGonagall's lips thinned, but she didn't say anything. Most people grinned in spite of the centaurs a couple of metres away.
'Hermione whispered 'thank you,' as she went passed Harry to an approving Ron, who was grinning widely.
'Now keep quiet,' Harry said unnecessarily.
It turned out that Hermione's trick had done the job; although the centaurs knew that Phorion was a few yards away from them, none of them could do enough magic to open the door. Their footsteps soon died away.
Harry insisted on keeping all of them there over night.
'Even you, Professor,' he said, as McGonagall got up; she sat back down.
They ate a refilling plateful of sandwiches (McGonagall conjured them) and drunk water that they poured from their wands. They slept in sleeping bags. Once again, Harry couldn't sleep during a raid, and he paced around, accompanied with Phorion. Harry had inkling to throttle the female centaur, but he never did; he was getting better at controlling his anger from the voice in his head. He couldn't stop himself from missing Sirius, though; he was constantly tormented by it even though it had happened months and months ago. The time which wasn't filled by centaur attacks or friendly moments, he found himself thinking longingly of the House of Black. He didn't tell anyone, though, because he didn't want people to feel sorry for him, or to get mad at him for thinking about such horrible things. Although Harry didn't say anything, some of his closest friends seemed to have guessed.
'Wake up Harry, its practise,' Ron called, as he shook Harry from his bedcovers.
'What?' Harry demanded sleepily.
'Quidditch practise,' Ron said brightly. 'I'm Captain, and I say "practise time"!'
Harry would have laughed at the enthusiasm Ron had if Ron had not hit him with a pillow.
'Hey! I'm getting up,' Harry said, and he got out of bed, dressed, grabbed his Firebolt and headed down to the pitch with Ron.
'Isn't it Friday?' Harry asked Ron uncertainly; he had been losing track of time since he didn't go to many of his classes.
'Yep,' said Ron, changing into his Quidditch robes. The rest of the team came ambling in.
'Hi,' Harry and Ron said, and everyone else chorused it back.
'Well, I s'pose you all know that there's another match coming up, and it's the finals, and we've scraped through with our great chasers,' Ron nodded at Andrea and Alice. Harry noticed that there was a new girl that didn't try out at practises. She was obviously filling in for Ginny, who was no where to be seen. Ron saw where Ron was looking. 'Oh, yeah, that's Matt,' he added. Harry looked at him confusedly.
'Short for "Matilda"', she said with a small smile. She had short blond hair that was tied back in a plait, and was a bit shorter than Harry.
'Let's go then, O Mighty One,' Fred called to Ron mockingly.
'Prefect and Captain. We all wonder how he does it,' George said, smirking; Ron aimed a playful punch at his shoulder.
'Shut up or you're off the team,' he said.
'We're the best players on here,' Fred said, mounting.
'Obviously,' George added, flying off.
'Show offs,' Ron muttered to Harry. Then, louder, he said 'can we get the crate out, Matt? Thanks.'
Harry was a bit nervous about playing; he was thinking of what had happened in the last practise. Nevertheless he managed to play normally, catching the Snitch every now and then. When Ron called end of practise, the team was in high spirits about the oncoming match.
Over the next few weeks, Hogwarts had even more security measures put onto it; the teachers were stricter, many of them recovering from the curses that were frequently put on them. McGonagall had obviously told the other teachers about Harry's leadership on the centaur attacks, because they were acting differently to him. Many of the Gryffindors were thankful towards Harry and Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were occasionally helped by him as well; if Harry saw another class come down the corridor, they would follow him, and they would all stay under Harry's control.
Harry was very happy that there hadn't been any more attacks from the centaurs for a while, but he was disrupted from class by a whisper from his own body. Harry was starting to have dreams about the veil in the Department of Mysteries, but they weren't nightmares. The majority of them involved him standing in front of it, not unlike the dreams of a long corridor with the black door he had had not only a year ago.
Phorion was improving, too. Hermione and Andrea looked after her when Harry couldn't; for example, she slept in the girls' dormitory. Phorion was a lot happier these days; it looked like the centaurs had almost stopped coming. The only trace Harry saw of them was when they skulked around the grounds, scaring the few that went out for fresh air.
Owls could come into the school now; hundreds upon hundreds of parents had sent their child or children letters asking them what had happened. In an assembly, Dumbledore had told them that it would be unadvisable to warn parents about anything that has happened to Hogwarts. Harry was sure that some people did, but no bad reports ever came out.
Now Dumbledore was back, most people seemed to cease their worries; true, the only Slytherin anyone ever saw was Malfoy, because the others had disappeared.
Lessons started back as usual, but the teachers warned that it would be a lot harder and stricter in the third term. Most students took this as a sign to not turn up for many classes until after the Easter holidays. Harry and Ron were among them.
'But what's the honest point?' Ron demanded, as they set off to (in Harry's eyes) a pointless lesson one Monday morning.
'Don't you want to be educated?' Hermione asked, with an air of someone impatient.
'Voldemort'll kill me even if I have a dozen NEWTS' Harry said quietly; Hermione fell silent, and no one else spoke on the way to the dungeons.
'Settle down, now,' Clankship's voice rang through the room, and it occurred to Harry how much of her lesson's he had missed. He decided (with a little help from an influence) to make the best potion there was …
'Are you feeling all right, Harry?' Hermione asked as Harry bounded back from the cupboard with his ingredients.
'Yeah, you look a bit out of it,' Ron said. 'It's not that wacko thing in, your head, is it?'
…Say no to the uncouth Blood-traitor …slime … descendant of pure …
'No,' Harry said cheerfully. 'Wow, this is going to be a fun lesson, don't you think?'
'If you say so,' Ron said uneasily, still looking edgily at Harry.
'Well, someone certainty does,' Hermione muttered darkly. Harry opened his mouth but someone cut across him – don't answer back to the Mudblood, Potter – and Harry closed his mouth, working happily on his potion.
'Are you alright, Potter?' Clankship's voice rang through the classroom. A few people laughed.
'Of course I'm alright – another minute of stirring and my Hair-Growing potion will be ready to drink. Would you like to try some?' he asked politely. Clankship came closer to his cauldron, her curly blond locks bouncing. Harry noted that she had blue eyes; she wasn't wearing her sunglasses.
'Are you sure you're feeling alright?' she asked him quietly. Harry nodded enthusiastically. She nodded back slowly, and stood back up strait. 'Weasley, could you take Potter to the Hospital Wing?' she said in normal tones.
'He's not ill,' Ron said blankly. Hermione pointed her wand subtly at Harry, and Harry felt limp; he nearly fell on the floor.
'If you please,' she insisted, and Ron hauled Harry out of the room. Harry felt dimly aware of what Ron was doing, even when Ron tripped up and he was knocked onto the floor.
'That was clever,' Harry said, smiling.
'Right. If you say so,' Ron said again, picking Harry up; he walked promptly into the wall.
'Hard, these, aren't they?'
'Are you confunded?' Ron asked Harry.
'Con-fun-ded? Is that a good, fun thing?' Harry said slowly.
'No. 'Cause confunded people are s'posed to be, I dunno, stupid. You're also er, eager in, er, well, just generally. Oh, just get up.' A grin unfurled on Ron's face.
'Wingardium Leviosa!' he cried, and Harry felt himself soar into the air.
'Waaahhhhooooo!' Harry shouted; he was flying without a broom stick – he could fly without a broom stick – it's a miracle! Harry thought. Harry tried to steer right to the toilets, but the mysterious force dragged him up a floor. He sat cross-legged in the air, dimly looking around.
'Madame Pomfrey?' Ron called. Harry fell through the air, and landed on his back. He was only vaguely aware of the pain in his legs.
'Yes?' she called back, spooning liquid into someone's mouth.
'Er,' Ron said unhelpfully back; Clankship strode into the room.
'He's been confunded,' she said in an unusual business-like tone, 'by a student,' she continued, and when Madame Pomfrey looked scandalised, she added, 'my permission, you know. I'd like you to keep him here, for, I'd say a week. Weasley, you stay up here, too.'
'Great,' Ron mumbled. 'More of this dump.'
'I've seen a couple of your friends. They are coming here as soon as my class have left,' she turned to Harry. 'I know you can hear me,' she said, and Harry nodded. 'Not, you, the Harry that's not being controlled. Now, listen. We are making sure that this thing is out of you. In the meantime, I hope the disgusting, horrible thing in your head goes.' She peered into Harry's eyes.
'And I mean you,' she said and walked off, whispering something to Ron on the way; he nodded.
'I reckon she should be our Defence teacher. She's a whole lot better than Snape,' he said, putting an excess amount of anger on the last word.
'Uh,' Harry said.
… Don't say anything, Potter. Don't – say – anything. Do you hear me?
'Yes, master,' Harry said. He felt the happiness draining out of him. He looked around.
'Where am I?' he asked. Ron laughed.
'Long story, mate. Once upon a time there lived a puffed-up evil-seeking bloke, who kills –'
BANG!
Phorion galloped to Ron, and whispered something to Ron. Harry caught 'Dark' and 'can I?' Ron nodded.
'Hello Harry,' she said, more solemnly than usual. 'You've a lot to learn about me, do you know that?'
'No,' said Harry, a little scared; what did she want?
'Well, I hate –' she tensed her fist '– the Dark –' she raised her arm, and on the cry of 'Arts!' she swung her fist back, and Harry saw a quick flash, and felt blinding pain and nothing else.
'Morning Harry,' someone said brightly. Harry pushed on his glasses, and saw that it was Fred. Harry saw that he was standing a fair distance from Phorion, the only other guest in the ward for him.
'How are you?' Phorion asked, her voice shaking a little bit. Harry felt slightly suspicious.
'Did you punch me?' he asked, putting his hand up to his eye. He could feel a bruise.
'Not you. I punched He Who Must Not Be Named. He cannot be trusted.' Harry felt a bit stunned, and was saved from answering back when a rustle came from under the bed. Pretending to be highly interested in this new noise (and thankful that Phorion and Fred could hear it too) Harry stuck his head under his hospital bed and then brought it up immediately, swearing.
Ron came up, laughing. 'Think of me as back up, I s'pose. I only really went down there to pick up my sweet,' he added to Harry, who grinned. He also decided to take the subject away from his mistake and embarrassment.
'Good punch,' he said.
'Like Hermione's,' Ron said, and when everyone looked at him blankly, he continued. 'She hit Malfoy in our – must've been – third year.' He smiled reminiscently.
'That was a good punch,' Harry agreed; he had seen it twice due to the Time-Turner.
'Maybe for you,' a voice said darkly. Harry snatched his wand, and spun round the best be could when lying down in a bed. Malfoy was in the bed next to him, smiling slightly.
'That hurt, you know,' he went on, after no one said anything for a solid thirty seconds.
'Good,' Ron said. 'It was supposed to.'
Harry thought Ron was being a bit harsh, and he noticed that the backs of his ears had gone red. Fred had obviously noticed this danger sign too, and subtly stepped away from him; Phorion hadn't, however and she stayed next to Ron. Harry thought of this as a big mistake. She didn't seem aware of it until Ron spoke again.
'But I s'pose it doesn't even matter to you, does it? I'm the blood-traitor, aren't I? Surely you don't give a damn about what happens to people, on a lower status than you? Because only pure-blood cuts it, doesn't it? You don't give anything about Mudbloods, do you?' Ron's speech seemed to only be making him angrier. 'But it's OK, isn't it, because you're on the good side now, aren't you?' he paused, and continued in a sneer, not unlike Malfoy's own one, 'you're just as much as a –' (he said something that made Phorion say 'Ron!') '– as you used to be,' and he swung his wand up – deflect the spell … someone whispered nearby –
'PROTEGO!' Harry yelled at just the right time – it deflected Ron's spell, and nothing happened to Malfoy, who was shaking with fury.
'I – have – changed,' Malfoy said, and he swept from the room, ducking a curse Ron sent after him. No one said anything in the whole Hospital Wing for two minutes. Ron broke it with a swear word.
'So, d'you think he's really changed?' Fred said very casually. Ron didn't say anything, but sat himself down in one of the chairs nearby. Harry gave Phorion a 'can-you-please-answer-him-for-me?' look, and she smiled.
'I would say yes – he didn't attack you, did he?' she said, asking Ron, but Harry answered.
'S'pose so. We should be thankful, then,' Harry chanced a glance at Ron, whose whole face was red by now.
Ron and Phorion stayed with Harry until evening; Fred had to go off to see someone.
'Miss, can I go back to my Common Room now? Please?' he added to Madame Pomfrey to be extra polite. 'I can cope on my own, and, if I don't, I have good friends,' he indicated Ron and Phorion. Phorion blushed.
After five more minutes on fussing on Harry's mental state, Madame Pomfrey let him go to Gryffindor Tower. Harry went through the portrait hole first, and he saw that it was busy. Not hat many people called out to him; though one or two moved shiftily after Phorion came through. Harry turned round when he heard a gagging sound.
'You OK, Ron?' he asked.
'Malfoy,' Ron mouthed, and Harry's heart sank. He looked over at where Malfoy was, and saw Hermione comforting him. He put his hand around her.
'Big mistake,' Harry and Phorion muttered at the same time. They caught each other's eyes and grinned for about two seconds. Ron had marched over to them by the time they had stopped smirking. Harry concluded that Ron wasn't very happy in a very short amount of time. Harry scrambled through spectators in time to see Ron open his mouth –
'Get off of her!' Malfoy let go of Hermione who looked shocked. Ron raised his wand, and Malfoy ducked; the burst of light hit Hermione. Ron's (and many other people's) eyes widened and she belched up a large slug. Malfoy had already disappeared. Hermione had just enough time to utter a spell in between sputtering slugs.
'Locomotor Mortis!' she gasped and Ron fell forward, his legs clamped together. Hermione stood up, mounted Phorion with a lot more agility than expected, and strode off into the corridor (someone held the Portrait Hole out for them) to what everyone considered a very dramatic event.
Right oh, you know what comes next – a review! Pretty please!
... only four chapters to go...
