Hey so, if you guys wanted to like, review this and let me know how you feel about my story and the writing and Polly or just about anything at all, I'd really really love that. Thanks so much for sticking with me. :)
Harry was once again spending a night in the hospital wing. Along with the Gryffindor team, Polly went up to see him, and wish him well. Polly was like their Hufflepuff mascot, in some way. The only reason Oliver let her hang around while the team was talking was because he was fully aware that she had almost no idea what was even going on most of the time.
"Guys, you don't have to hangout here, you can go party and celebrate," Harry said, sitting up.
"What do think we're doing?" Fred asked, laughing. "Don't even bother, we're not going anywhere."
For nearly three hours, they sat around: laughing and enjoying each others company. Harry seemed to be enjoying himself. Polly was having a blast spending time with some of her favourite Gryffindors. She kind of wished some of her other friends were around though, because the conversation would often revert back to Quidditch and Polly would fade out. Quidditch may be fun to watch but, it's so confusing, and dangerous, and seriously it just looks stressful. Add Oliver Wood on top of that pile and you've got the makes for a very unpleasant afternoon in Polly's books, but her boys enjoyed it, so she supported them. She would always support them.
Unfortunately their party was cut short by Madam Pomfrey shooing everyone away so Harry could rest. Polly said goodbye to Harry, and placed a kiss on his forehead. She was a very nurturing person. A few people had taken to calling her Mama Polly sometimes as a joke. Justin was the father of the nickname.
Polly walked out with George, holding his hand as the Gryffindor team walked ahead of them without stopping. They were a loud bunch. They should've been in bed hours ago. Polly thought that Madam Pomfrey may have fallen asleep, because it's past curfew already.
"D'you want to come do homework with me tomorrow morning? Then at lunch time we can grab some sandwiches or something and come eat outside." Polly smiled. "Fred should come along too, of course."
"Sounds lovely," he said, smiling.
"See you at around nine then," she said. Polly stood on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek.
"See you then, love."
On her way back to her room, she saw a flash in a nearby corridor, and heard the squeaking of shoes rushing down the hallway. Curious, she made her way over to the source of the noise. Before she got there, there was a final flash, and the squeaking stopped. She went a little faster, thinking she missed whatever had happened. Immediately, she feared the worst. And she was right. Young Colin Creevey was standing completely still. Polly ran over, nearly tripping over her own feet as she sprinted towards the blond. Polly grabbed his shoulder and cursed when she realized he was just like Mrs Norris. He was petrified.
She wanted to help. But what could she do? What could she do right now? Nothing. She had to find someone. She had to get away from here. Whoever is doing this could be lurking around the corner. Polly whispered an apology to Colin before she took off running. She was going to run as fast as humanly possible until she found anyone. Knowing her luck, today would be the day that Percy wasn't lurking around hoping to catch someone out of bed.
Turning the corner too quickly, Polly crashed into a suit of armour, screaming as she thought it was a monster. But it did have a weapon. The sword crashed down onto her hand, cutting open her knuckles. It fell the to floor with a clatter. What a mess. Pieces of a suit of armour were scattered around Polly, as she lay on her side, supporting herself on her elbow. Her knuckled bled little droplets onto the ground right beside the sword. It was so shiny. It looked recently polished. Polly froze. She could hear something. It sounded like something slithering. It sounded like a big snake. She was hyperventilating; and too afraid to move. So she continued to stare at the sword. But, the sliding noise was getting louder. And she was growing more afraid. Her tears fell in the same place as her blood, some of the droplets intermingling. For a moment, she thought maybe she would fight, so she wrapped her bloodied hand around the handle of the sword. But, the blade showed her something terrible. A pair of yellow eyes sunned her to the core. She couldn't move, she wasn't thinking.
Polly was petrified.
McGonagall was walking up to check on Harry in the hospital wing, and see what harm that Lockhart had done, when she something out of place. A chest piece of a suit of armour was lying in the middle of the floor. McGonagall moved forward cautiously, unaware of what was going on. When she realized that a student was lying on the ground, she rushed forward. Polly was there, hand still bleeding slightly, cheeks wet from crying. McGonagall crouched down and recognized her right away. Touching her cold cheek was an indication of what was going on. Polly had been petrified like Mrs Norris.
"Oh you poor thing," McGonagall said. She heard something from around the corner, and went to take a peak only to see Dumbledore and Filch looking over Colin Creevey, stiff as a board lying on the floor, camera clutched tightly in his hands. "Albus," McGonagall called out, walking over. "It's not just Colin, Polly is around the corner."
"We need to get them out of sight, before any wandering students find them. This will only insight a panic."
Harry Potter had just been arguing with Dobby the house elf; house unknown, when the doors opened. And Dumbledore backed in. He was carrying the stiff Colin Creevey, as Filch carried the foot end of him. Following them was McGonagall and Snape, carrying what looked like a girl in a Hufflepuff scarf. Harry couldn't tell who is was. The only reason he could tell Colin was that during his quick peak he saw the camera.
"Get Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore said. McGonagall rushed past at once. Mrs Norris was nowhere near healed, so these two students would too have to wait until the mandrakes were ready.
"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked. Her voice a whisper as she followed McGonagall over to the two petrified students.
"Another attack," Dumbledore said. Those two words were the only ones necessary. But they relayed so much fear and panic.
"You don't think Colin managed to get a picture of his attacker?" McGonagall asked. Dumbledore opened the camera only to have it explode slightly.
"Good gracious," Madam Pomfrey said. "Melted, all melted..."
"What does this mean Albus?" McGonagall asked.
"It means, that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."
"But, Albus, surely... who?"
"The question is not who... the question is how."
Harry could tell that the staff had no more answers than he, Ron and Hermione did. But as soon as the teachers had left the room, Harry was up and walking over to Colin. He stopped dead in tracks once he realized that it was Polly laying in the other bed. Sweet, sweet Polly.
He felt like throwing up. He knew that Polly was muggle-born, that was no secret. If Draco did this, Harry wouldn't have to do anything. George would have Draco dead in under a minute. Poor George, Harry knew he would be heart broken the moment he finds out. It was like seeing road kill for the first time. This poor defenceless thing didn't have a chance. Colin may have been annoying, but he was still a nice lad. And Polly was the kindest person that Harry had ever met. It just all seemed unfair. Why not Draco? Or Marcus Flint?
Who cares about them?
George woke up in the morning with a terrible feeling in his stomach. He felt absolutely dreadful. Fred and George made their way down to the great hall for breakfast.
At the Hufflepuff table, Cedric Diggory and Justin Finch-Fletchly had their heads bowed and both seemed to be crying. The twins looked at each other, and thought of the worst case scenario when they realized that Polly wasn't around. Cedric looked up and saw George, and immediately began crying harder. George panicked more.
"Where is she?" he asked, slamming a fist down on the table.
"George, maybe you should sit down." Cedric patted the seat next to him. Justin wailed. He didn't seem to care who was around.
"Where is she?"
"She was petrified last night," Cedric said, lowering his head. "She's in hospital right now. Madam Pomfrey is doing what she can for Polly and Colin Creevey."
Liars.
There was no way in hell that Polly had been petrified. George was with her last night, after the game. She left the hospital wing with the whole group. It was impossible. She was fine when she left. George would've sworn he felt his heart deflate in his chest. He'd never been so scared in his life. Immediately, he left the great hall, rushing his way to the hospital wing. Fred was right on his tail, yelling for him to slow down. But George had to get there.
When he was at the door however, everything changed. He was suddenly too afraid to go in. Too afraid to see her laying there, stiff. It wouldn't be his Polly, it would just be a shell. A statue. Fred put a hand on George's shoulder, reassuring him. They walked in together, stopping at the third bed. There she was, eye wide open. Arm and legs straight and stiff. It looked as if a chill was running up her spine. George didn't know how to feel. Fred, knew exactly what he was feeling; sadness, and anger. But George just wanted to smash things. And kill whoever did this to his beautiful girl. Fred suggested they sit down, and they did just that.
Harry was across the room, sleeping soundly in his bed. Fred went over to make sure Harry was all right, while George placed a hand over her solid hand. It didn't feel like her. It wasn't soft and warm, it was stiff and cold. Like she belonged in a museum.
Fred returned with a sleepy Harry beside him. George looked up, tear filled eyes already red. Harry walked over and put his hand on Polly's forehead. He had been hoping that it was just an elaborate nightmare. But alas, it was a worse terror than that. It was reality. The only sound you could hear was George sniffling, and Fred's slightly stuffy breathing.
It was Sunday, so there were no classes. He wouldn't have gone to them if this had happened on a Tuesday. Even though Polly would probably smack him, saying: now who's gunna catch me up? George smiled at the thought.
Throughout the day, many of Polly's friends stopped in to see her. And wish her well. Everyone was worried now. This attack had changed absolutely everything. It was no longer magical excitement, it was terrifying. Everyone who would visit would usually try to speak to Fred and George. But George never said a word. He just watched Polly's delicate features, looking for any kind of movement. He was looking for a flinch, or a blink. Anything that would suggest that she was coming back to him.
"George, should we go get some food?" Fred asked, rubbing George's back.
"Not hungry," he mumbled, wiping on of his tears off of Polly's hand. "You go."
"I'll bring you something back," Fred said, covering his stomach. He'd been hungry for hours, and just couldn't ignore it anymore.
George was alone for a little while, until Cedric and Justin came in. This was the seventh time Justin had come up today. He would come in, kiss her forehead, and then leave. But this time he just sat down across from George. And stared at Polly's face. "She was coming up with a million ways to protect us, did she tell you that?" Justin asked. Cedric suggested that maybe George wasn't in the mood to talk.
"What do you mean?" George asked. Justin had figured it out. George didn't want to talk about himself, or how he was feeling. But he would talk about Polly for hours. Talking about her as if nothing has changed made him feel a little bit okay.
"She was investigating how to protect muggle-borns," Justin said, resting his hand on top of Polly's. He retracted. "Ways to sneak us out of Hogwarts, where to hide in the school if we need. And she's been studying what spells to use on just about every kind of creature imaginable." Justin sniffled, and Cedric put a hand on his shoulder. "She's a saint, and she deserves better than this. She made the younger kids feel safer. Now they all feel like they're next. Mama Polly, petrified."
It made perfect sense. Her late nights in the library, and why she was always found talking to first years. She was comforting them. She could pick out a person in need from a mile away.
"She'll be alright, once the mandrakes are ready then Snape is gunna fix up a potion that will save her." Cedric rubbed Justin's back as he leaned forward on his elbows.
"We're trusting him?" Justin asked, rolling his eyes. "I think I'd sooner trust Marcus Flint."
"Hey, Snape may be a little scary, but he's still a teacher. He's still the potions master at the school. He's not about to let anyone stay petrified," George said. Cedric thought he would have to be the one to say something. George didn't like Snape at all, but he knew that Snape wasn't about to abandon Polly, or Colin. He was a twit, but a professor all the same.
"Hullo," Fred said, walking in with an entire Chicken Pot Pie. "I snatched this and ran if anyone's hungry."
Nobody was hungry though. It was like snacking at a funeral. But no one had died, but somehow it was still just as awkward. George didn't know how he was possibly going to leave for bed. It felt as though his heart was missing right out of his chest. Because it was: she had stolen it, and she was somewhere else right now.
Cedric and Justin left a few hours later. Just before curfew. Fred couldn't convince George to leave, so Fred just accepted they weren't about to leave.
"I thought I might find you two here," Percy Weasley said, walking into the hospital wing. "It's past curfew, you know."
"Percy," Fred started, looking at George. "Special circumstances, don't you think."
"You're right, that's why you're not getting in trouble from me. But, it's still past curfew, and we don't need anymore attacks. C'mon, off to bed please."
"C'mon George," Fred said, standing up.
"And leave her here all alone like this?" George asked, ready to fight anyone that seemed like they were going to try and move him.
Percy said nothing, but instead moved between Polly's and Colin's beds. He moved the chairs and the end table that were there. Fred watched in absolute confusion. George didn't look up until he heard the squeaky sound of furniture moving. Percy was pushing Colin Creevey's bed closer to Polly's. "There," he said as the beds collided. "It may not be you, but someone is right beside her."
"Alright then," George said, walking out of the hospital wing without another word. Percy looked skeptical.
"Can you at least try to make sure he doesn't sneak out," Percy said. "But don't worry. I don't expect miracles."