Disclaimer: I clearly do not own Harry Potter, considering the fact that I don't happen to be J.K. Rowling—or lines from the llama movie—what was it called?
The Rescue…Sort ofMalfoy was getting to his feet (he was completely winded) and ran after the second-year girl. He caught her by her hair, pulled the book from her grasp, smiled, and left.
When she was sure he was gone, she started laughing. Harry came up to her. "Fifty-four. Are you okay?"
"Yes, thanks Harry."
She smiled at him. I'll never actually get him.
Harry gave her the page and left. Ginny walked back to the common room. She and Hermione planned their excursion for that night.
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Fred was in detention. Snape caught him sneaking about the office and he was polishing dishes in the kitchens (Peeves caused a serious accident down there—to be brief, it involved a roast chicken and an unconscious house-elf).
Ginny was at dinner. She'd decided with Hermione that Hermione would remember everything that Fred had told her and Ginny would do the actual stealing. Hermione would break whatever enchantments there were. Hermione was in the common room early, as planned. "I owe you, Hermione," said Ginny as Hermione left the Great Hall.
Hermione was getting worried, however. They were just about to leave the common room. It was about eight forty-five p.m. She had never really broken a school rule before…except sneaking a dragon hatchling out to the North Tower at midnight, creeping out at night and battling various enchantments in her first year, brewing a potentially hazardous potion and turning herself into a cat in second year…um hm. That covered just about everything.
So her record wasn't exactly the cleanest record (it was still better than Harry's or Ron's). But she really didn't want to mess up this year. So far, she'd done very well. But stealing into Professor Snape's private stores and pilfering a potion was not quite an activity that fell into the category of "school-appropriate".
A tiny voice was whispering to her at the back of her mind.
Do you really want to get detention—or expulsion?But her conscience was pricking her.
But Sylvester needs help.
Is it worth it?Yes.
Couldn't you let someone else do it?No.
Does it have to be you? Do you want to risk it all, Hermione?But Sylvester needs it.
Someone else…a properly trained wizard. What if you kill him?Don't leave Sylvester there by himself.
Oh, shut up. I'm trying to lead her down the right path.
Well I'm leading her down the path that rocks.
Hermione was getting annoyed. "Cut it out already!" she muttered angrily, slapping herself in the face. "Oh God, I sound like Harry."
"Sound like me what?"
"Oh! Hi Harry."
"Nervous then?"
"I don't want to…"
"Come on, what's more important? There's a little kid here, stuck in that page."
He left Hermione to her thoughts and hung around by the portrait hole. In exactly two minutes, Ginny climbed through. As planned, Harry was holding the Invisibility Cloak.
"Thanks Harry. Hermione, are you feeling okay? You look a little pale."
"Oh no…I'm feeling—wonderful. Let's go."
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"Ginny, you realise how much more work has to be done here?"
"All we have to do is find the potion. Now what'd Fred tell you?"
"George came in. Fred got caught."
Ginny scowled. "Hm. Not surprising, is it?" Hermione nodded her agreement.
"Well, we'll have to find it, that's all."
"I suppose drugging Snape at dinner did have its benefits, then."
"You did WHAT?"
Ginny blushed. "Whoops. I wasn't planning to tell you that bit."
"Ginny!"
"Sorry."
"What did you use?"
"Sleeping Draught, courtesy of Ron."
"Ah. We were making that in Potions today. He must have taken an extra flask. His was quite good interestingly enough, but…oh dear Lord."
"What's wrong?"
"I remember Snape saying to himself, 'This is good, most unfortunately, if rather strong.'"
"Gives us more time, then, hm?"
"Yes, I guess so."
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The two girls crept to the door of Snape's office. They could hear his snores from the chamber annexed to the office.
"God, he sounds like a bulldozer."
"A what?"
"It's like—a big shovel connected to a car."
"If you say so."
"Your dad hasn't told you about them?"
"Well, I'm sure he'd be pleased to hear of them from you."
"No way."
Ginny smiled. "Okay, so, door. Where could it be?"
"Feel around here. Oh—wait!" Hermione's hand hit a metal ring set into the floor.
Ginny pulled on it. "Come one, come on! Work with me here!"
"It won't move!"
"Let's try somewhere else. I mean, there's always a chance that it's not there."
"Yes, I suppose."
Ginny saw a roughly cut door in the side of a shelf. "Hey! Look here."
Hermione eagerly opened it. "I'll watch the door of the office; you tell me what you find."
Ginny rummaged about the inside of the cabinet. "Several bottles of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, Every Flavour Beans, hm—a pickled frog heart, if I'm not mistaken, an old hat, a book, and EW!"
"What?"
"Greying underpants."
"I don't think he keeps the potions in there."
"Me neither."
"It must be under that door!" Hermione had forgotten to lower her voice.
"Shush!"
"What?"
"You're amazingly indiscreet."
"I'm not!"
"Well, you're being as quiet as a small rhino then. Help me with this thing."
The girls pulled on the ring. Finally, finally…
"It's open!" exclaimed Ginny.
"SHHH! Talk about indiscreet!"
"Sorry."
"Okay, let's feel about here…AHHH!" Suddenly, Hermione vanished.
Ginny pressed her hand against her mouth to stifle the sound. She peered deeper and deeper into the darkness. "Hermione? Hermione, I—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!"
Ginny vanished too.
