The Duelling Club

Castiel awoke early on Sunday morning. He quickly dressed and checked on Harry. He was still sleeping with his arm lying stiffly beside him. Careful not to wake Harry up, he felt up and down the arm to make sure all the bones had re-grown properly. Everything seemed to be there. He then went over to Colin and raised the high curtains to stop curious people from spying on him. Once he was satisfied that everything in the ward was just as it should be, ready for Madam Pomfrey, he walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast, meeting Ron, Hermione and John on the stairs. As soon as he saw them he told them about what had happened the night before.

'We should start on the potion,' Hermione said in a hushed voice.

'Good idea,' John agreed. 'The sooner we get it done the better.'

Castiel glanced at him, astounded by how calm both he and Hermione were. It was well known that they were both Muggle-born, and if by some chance it was Malfoy behind the attacks they would be huge targets.

They rushed through their breakfast and hurried down to the dungeons. Hermione pulled out a small piece of paper once they reached the store cupboard. She ticked off the ingredients as she loaded her bag – and some of John's – with little paper packets. They may be allowed to help themselves to the store cupboard, but it was still best not to let Snape catch them taking so much or he might ask unwanted questions.

'I'll have to weigh these later and then bring back any spare,' Hermione muttered as she stuffed the last packet into John's bag.

'Where exactly are we going with this, Hermione?' Ron asked as the surfaced in the Entrance Hall. 'It's not like we can set up in the common room.'

'I know just the place.'

'You've got to be joking!' Ron exclaimed.

'Oh, for goodness' sake, Ron!' Hermione shot back.

'They'll catch us in a week!'

'I seriously doubt it.'

Hermione pushed open the door to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, the 'Out of Order' sign still hung on it. John shrugged and followed, Castiel dithered for a moment before following suit and Ron shook his head incredulously.

Hermione was already kneeling in a cubicle next to John, who was handing her the packets out of his bag.

'You already brought your cauldron?' Ron asked, looking at the cauldron perched on top of the toilet.

'No, this is a school one. It might look weird if I turn up to Potions without my cauldron when it was perfectly fine last lesson,' she explained, poking her wand in the gap under the cauldron stand, creating the waterproof flames that she was so good at.

Over the next hour or so, Hermione worked on the potion, directing Ron and John around while Castiel stayed back, staring into space. He was slowly working together the pieces of the puzzle, but no matter what angle he spun it on, he couldn't help feeling that he was missing something – besides what the monster of Slytherin was.

The four of them jumped out of their skin when they heard a voice call through the door.

'It's just me.'

Hermione gasped and dropped her spoon.

'Harry,' she said. 'You gave us such a fright. Come in – how's your arm?'

'Fine,' Harry said, walking over to stand next to Castiel. He peered into the cubicle at the cauldron.

'We'd've come to meet you, but we decided to get started on the potion,' Ron explained to him. 'Castiel told us what happened last night and we thought that the sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better.'

Castiel pressed his lips together and shook his head slightly.

'What?' Ron said, catching the movement. 'You don't think it's Malfoy?'

'I was thinking… about what Dobby said last night. He called You Know Who 'The Dark Lord'.'

'Yeah, so?' said Ron.

'Well, I've only ever heard his followers call him that.'

'Are you trying to tell me that you think Dobby is one of You Know Who's followers?'

'No, but I think that whoever his master is might be. I also think that whatever's going on here might have something to do with You Know Who.'

The others considered it.

'I don't see him being in any house but Slytherin,' Hermione said thoughtfully, 'but how could he possibly have anything to do with this after Harry defeated him?'

'Perhaps he's not involved personally. I think that one of his followers is up to something,' Castiel said. 'I think that the Malfoys used to be some of his followers.'

'We'll make sure to ask him about that when we question him. We can't just go around accusing people of being in with You Know Who,' Hermione said reasonably.

'That's true.'

John stood up suddenly and looked around the room.

'Where's Sherlock?'

The other four looked around too, as if expecting him to emerge from under a sink or jump out from behind a door.

'I thought it was a bit quiet,' Ron said,

'He's probably just in the library or something. I'll go find him in a bit…'

'The only thing I can't figure out is what exactly the monster of Slytherin is and how no one's noticed it,' said Hermione. 'Wish Dobby had told you what it is.'

'Really? That's the only thing?' Ron said, raising an eyebrow.

'Maybe it can make itself invisible,' Hermione continued, ignoring him. 'Or maybe it can disguise itself – pretend to be a suit of armour. I've read about Chameleon Ghouls…'

'You read too much, Hermione,' Ron said, passing her a packet of dead lacewing flies. She passed him back some empty bags, which he crumpled up in his hands.

'So Dobby stopped us getting on the train and broke your arm…' he shook his head. 'You know what, Harry? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life, he's going to kill you.'

In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around, collecting the names of the people that would be staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Sherlock all signed her list after hearing that Malfoy was staying, which struck them as suspicious. The holidays would be the perfect time to question him.

Unfortunately, the potion was only half done. They still needed the Bicorn horn and the Boomslang skin, which were safely tucked away in Snape's private store.

'What we need,' Hermione said brightly, 'is a diversion. Then one of us can sneak into Snape's offie and take what we need.'

'I believe I can help with that,' Castiel told her. 'Gabriel will have something we can use.'

'He won't mind?'

'No, not at all.'

Hermione thought for a moment.

'I think I'd better do the actual stealing,' she said in a matter-of-fact tone. 'You three will be expelled if you get in any more trouble and, frankly, John, you've been very distracted lately and you won't be quick enough.'

John looked rather relieved at not being asked to steal anything from Snape.

'So all you need to do is cause enough mayhem to keep Snape busy for five minutes or so.'

John frowned and sighed. Hermione was right, he had been distracted, but he couldn't pinpoint why. That, and Sherlock was missing again.

Potions lessons took place in one of the larger dungeons on Thursday afternoons. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which sets of brass scales and jars of ingredients. Snape prowled through the fumes, making waspish comments on the Gryffindors' work while the Slytherins sniggered appreciatively.

John prodded at his Swelling Solution with a stirring rod. He was fairly certain that it wasn't supposed to be lumpy, but he had his mind on other things.

That morning before lessons, Castiel shoved a Filibuster firework into both his and Harry's hands. Later that day, a very confused Gabriel would find them missing from his bag, along with a not saying,

I borrowed your fireworks.

Need them for a project.

Sorry if you need them for something.

Castiel

Harry and John waited for Hermione's signal, hardly listening as Snape paused to sneer at their potions. When Snape turned and walked off to bully Neville, Hermione caught Harry's eye and nodded. Harry then nudged John. They both ducked behind their cauldrons to light them. John prodded his with his wand and it began to fizz in his hand. He quickly straightened up, took aim and threw it across the dungeon. It landed right on target in a Slytherin's cauldron – the opposite end of the room from Harry's, which had landed square in Goyle's cauldron.

Both cauldrons exploded. Showering the class with Swelling Solution. People shrieked as splashes of the potion hit various body parts. Malfoy got a whole face full and his nose began to swell like a balloon. During the chaos, Hermione slipped out of the door.

'Silence! SILENCE!' Snape roared. 'Anyone who has been splashed, come here for the Deflating Draft. When I find out who did this…'

John stifled laughter behind his hand as Malfoy hurried forward, his head drooping from the weight of his, now melon-sized, nose. Half the class stumbled up to Snape's desk with arms like clubs or giant, puffed-up lips and Hermione slid back into the dungeon, the front of her robes bulging.

When everyone had taken a swig of the antidote and the swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted remains of the firework He then did the same with the cauldron John had hit. He held up one firework in each hand and there was a sudden hush.

'If I ever find out who threw these,' Snape whispered, 'I shall personally make sure they are expelled.'

The bell rang ten minutes later and it could not have been more welcome.

'He knew it was me,' Harry told them as they hurried back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. 'I could tell.'

Hermione threw the ingredients in the cauldron and began to stir feverishly. Castiel slipped into the room behind them.

'Did you get them?' he asked quietly.

'Yeah,' John said, looking up. 'Sherlock with you?'

Castiel looked over his shoulder and frowned.

'He was here a moment ago….'

'It'll be ready in a fortnight,' Hermione declared happily from the cubicle.

'Snape can't prove it was you,' Ron said reassuringly to Harry. 'What can he do?'

'Knowing Snape, something awful,' said Harry, as the potion frothed and bubbled.

A week later, John was hurrying across the Entrance Hall adjusting his robes. He'd overslept and was afraid he'd missed breakfast. Half way across he noticed a figure hanging around the notice board. He recognised it as Sherlock and went over to him. He was staring at the notices blankly, as if in a trance.

'Sherlock?' he said tentatively. Sherlock didn't react but to twitch his hands in an odd way and vaguely say, 'Happy Birthday.'

'What? Sherlock-'

Then he seemed to snap out of it and pointed at a new notice on the board.

'Duelling club,' he said. 'First meeting's tonight. Could come in handy.'

John made a face.

'Because the monster of Slytherin can duel?' he said sceptically.

'Well, that and other things,' Sherlock said, a faint smile on his lips.

'Do you want to go?'

'Well, everyone else is going.'

'Since when do you care what everyone else is doing?'

Sherlock shrugged and John narrowed his eyes. The bell rang and he groaned.

'Oh well. Didn't need breakfast anyway.'

Eight o'clock that evening, John was back outside the Great Hall, where he met Sherlock and a very uncomfortable-looking Castiel. Evidently he was regretting allowing himself, once again, to be talked into something he didn't want to do by Sherlock. Once inside they found Harry, Ron and Hermione already there. The long house tables had disappeared and were replaced by a golden stage that was illuminated by thousands of flickering candles. Most of the school was packed into the room, carrying their wands and looking excited.

'I wonder who'll be teaching us,' Hermione said as they edged forward in the crowd. 'Someone told me that Flitwick was a duelling champion when he was young, maybe it'll be him.'

'As long as it's not-' Harry began, but ended with a groan.

Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plumb and accompanied by none other than Snape.

Lockhart waved a hand for silence and called, 'Gather round! Gather round! Can you all see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!

'Professor Dumbledore as given me permission to start this little Duelling Club to prepare you, in case you ever need to defend yourself, as I have on countless occasions – for details see my published works.'

'Did you find anything on him yet?' John murmured to Sherlock.

'What?' Sherlock said, mystified.

'On Lockhart. Did you find anything?'

'Oh…no.'

'Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape,' Lockhart continued, flashing a bright smile, 'who has sportingly agreed to help me give you a little demonstration. He tells me he knows a tiny bit about duelling himself. Now, I don't want you all to go worrying, you'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him, never fear!'

'Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?' Ron muttered.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed, with much twirling of hands on Lockhart's part. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

'As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position,' Lockhart told the silent crowd. 'On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will aim to kill of course.'

'I wouldn't bet on that,' Harry muttered.

'One – two – three – '

Both of them swung their wands over their shoulders. Snape cried, 'Expelliarmus!' There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backwards off the stage, smashed into a wall and slid down it to sprawl on the floor. Castiel automatically darted forward, but didn't get very far. There were too many people in the way and someone stood on the hem of his coat.

'Do you think he's all right?' Hermione squeaked.

'Who cares?' Harry and Ron said in unison.

'I'm sure he's fine though,' John said loudly. 'He says he's had worse in his books.'

Lockhart staggered to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his thick golden curls were standing on end.

'Well, there you have it!' he said, tottering back onto the platform. 'That was a Disarming Charm – as you see, I've lost my wand – ah, thank you Miss Brown. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind me saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it instructive to let them see…'

Snape was looking murderous. Lockhart could possibly have noticed because he said, 'Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me…'

They moved through the crowd matching up pairs. Lockhart paired Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley and approached John and Castiel.

'I think it may be more educational if you're paired with someone you don't normally work with, so, er, Watson, you can go with Miss Hooper over here.'

He gently nudged John towards Molly and considered Castiel for a moment. He opened his mouth and Gabriel appeared behind him.

'I'll go with him, Professor,' he smiled.

'That sounds like an excellent idea,' Lockhart said and he walked off. Unfortunately, Snape had got to the others first, and Harry, Ron and Hermione had all been paired with Slytherins. John looked around for Sherlock and saw him standing opposite someone familiar. His stomach lurched as he looked into the face of Moriarty, the first-year he'd seen at the Sorting Ceremony. Something on his face must have shown because Molly was suddenly looking at him in concern.

'John, are you okay?' she asked. 'You've gone sort of pale.'

He tore his gaze from Sherlock and Moriarty to smile at her.

'Yeah, fine.'

'Face your partners!' called Lockhart, back on the platform, 'and bow!'

Castiel and Gabriel bowed to each other. Castiel had visibly relaxed since Gabriel arrived.

'Wands at the ready!' Lockhart shouted. 'When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent – only to disarm them – we don't want any accident. One – two – three – '

Gabriel didn't move, instead allowing Castiel to assume a look of concentration, aim his wand and say, 'Expelliarmus!'

It was a weak spell, but it was enough. It hit him in the chest and his wand flicked out of his hand and fell to the ground. He grinned at Castiel and picked his wand up.

'All right, that was really good,' he said. 'Now try it again, but this time harder. You gotta be more confident with it.'

'But- but I don't want to hurt you,' Castiel frowned.

'You won't hurt me it's a disarming spell,' Gabriel reassured him. 'Come on, do it. Come at me, bro.'

Castiel smiled weakly, then drew himself up and aimed again.

'Expelliarmus!'

This time, the spell shot at him and hit him hard. He flew across the room and landed on his back. Castiel rushed over to him, looking panicked.

'Gabriel, are you all right?' he gasped.

'Whoa! That was awesome!' he said, sitting up. 'You totally got me!'

'W-what?'

'Man, that was cool. Where's my wand?'

Castiel handed it to him, still looking worried.

'I said disarm only!' they heard Lockhart shout in alarm.

They looked around and saw that it hadn't gone quite as Lockhart had planned. First they saw Sherlock kneeling beside Moriarty who was locked in the Full Body-Bind. In another direction, Malfoy was also lying on the ground and Harry was doing what looked like some sort of dance.

'Stop! Stop!' Lockhart screamed, but Snape took charge.

'Finite Incantatem!' he shouted. All around the room, spells stopped and the greenish haze caused by Ron's malfunctioning wand began to dissipate. However Hermione and her partner – Millicent Bulstrode – were still moving. Millicent had Hermione in a headlock, their wands lying forgotten on the ground, and Hermione desperately trying to break free. Harry and Ron leapt to pull her off, which was difficult as she was a lot bigger than they were. Gabriel looked at her with distaste, badly wanting to give her a detention but couldn't with Snape watching.

'Dear, dear,' said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd looking at the aftermath of the chaos. Castiel darted among them, patching up what injuries he could.

'Up you get, Macmillan… careful there, Miss Fawcett… pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second…'

'I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells,' said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and quickly looked away. 'Let's have a volunteer pair – Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you?'

'A bad idea, Professor Lockhart,' said Snape gliding over like a large, malevolent bat. 'Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley to the hospital wing in a matchbox. How about Malfoy and Potter?' he said with a twisted smile.

'We'll do it, Professor,' John called out. Molly nodded her head fervently.

'That's all right, Watson, Malfoy and Potter will do nicely.'

'Sorry,' John muttered to Harry as he passed. The crowd backed away to give them room.

'Now, Harry,' said Lockhart, 'When Draco points his wand at you, you do this.'

He raised his own wand, attempted a sort of wiggling action and dropped it. A few people sniggered as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, 'Whoops – my wand is a little over-excited.'

Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down and whispered something in his ear.

Sherlock came up behind John, tucking something away in his robes.

'This ought to be interesting,' he murmured.

'I'm not sure 'interesting' is the right word,' John whispered back.

'Just do what I did, Harry!' Lockhart said merrily.

'What, drop my wand?'

But Lockhart wasn't listening.

'One – two – three – go!' he shouted.

Malfoy raised his wand and quickly bellowed, 'Serpensortia!'

The end of his wand exploded and John's mouth dropped open as a long black snake shot out of it. It fell heavily on the floor between Harry and Malfoy and raised itself, ready to strike. There were several screams and the crowd swiftly backed away, except Sherlock and Castiel, who both stepped forward, intrigued by the snake.

'Don't move, Potter, I'll get rid of it for you,' said Snape, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake.

'Allow me!' shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew two feet in the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight towards Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed.

Suddenly, Harry was running straight towards the snake and, before John could stop him, he was right by it, making odd, strangulated hissing noises. John made a face, had he lost his mind? He turned to Sherlock to point this out, but the words died in his throat. He had never seen Sherlock so visibly shocked. He wasn't the only one either. He saw similar expressions on Ron, Hermione, Castiel and even Gabriel's faces.

'What do you think you're playing at?' Justin shouted.

John flinched, sure that the shouting would aggravate the snake, but when he looked it was sitting laying calmly on the ground. Without waiting for an answer, Justin stormed from the room.

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand and the snake vanished in a puff of smoke. An ominous muttering file the room and Ron moved towards Harry and tugged on the back of his robes. He steered him out of the Hall, followed by Hermione, Sherlock and John, passing Castiel who appeared to be quietly arguing with Gabriel.

Ron dragged them all the way up to Gryffindor tower. He didn't offer any sort of explanation, nor did Hermione or Sherlock until they were in the empty common room. Ron pushed Harry into an armchair and said, 'You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?'

'A what?' Harry and John said together.

'A Parselmouth!' said Ron. 'You can talk to snakes!'

'I know,' said Harry. 'I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin at the zoo once – long story – but it was telling me it had never been to Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to. That was before I knew I was a wizard…'

'A boa constrictor told you it had never been to Brazil?' Ron repeated faintly.

John burst into laughter, but the looks on the others' faces were far from amused.

'What? That's funny,' he said defensively.

'I bet loads of people here can do it,' Harry shrugged.

'Oh no they can't,' said Ron. 'It's not a very common gift. Harry, this is bad.'

'What's bad?' Harry said, starting to get angry. 'What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin-'

'Oh, that's what you said to it?'

'What d'you mean? You were there… you heard me.'

'I heard you speaking Parseltongue,' said Ron, 'snake language. You could have been saying anything. No wonder Justin panicked, you sounded like you were egging it on or something. It was creepy, you know.'

Harry gaped at him

'Okay, yeah, it was a bit weird,' John conceded, 'but anyone who would actually believe Harry would set a snake on them has got to be off their rocker anyway.'

'I spoke a different language?' said Harry. 'But – I didn't realise – how can I speak a different language without knowing I can speak it?'

Ron shook his head. Both he and Hermione were looking as though someone had died, and Sherlock was refusing to even look at him.

'D'you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a dirty great snake biting Justin's head off?' Harry said heatedly. 'What does it matter how I did it as long as Justin doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?'

'Being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for,' Sherlock murmured as Castiel slipped through the portrait hole. 'That's why the symbol of Slytherin is a serpent.'

Harry and John's mouths fell open.

'Exactly,' said Ron. 'And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-grandson or something…'

'But I'm not,' Harry said.

'You'll find that hard to prove,' said Hermione. 'He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be.'

John glanced at Sherlock and was annoyed to see him looking at Harry suspiciously.

'Oh, come off it,' he said loudly, making them all jump. 'You don't actually think Harry's the heir of Slytherin, do you?'

Castiel shook his head slightly, but no one else moved.

'That's just about as likely as it being Malfoy,' John grumbled.

By the next morning the snow that had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of the term had been cancelled. Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation that she would entrust to no one else now that it was so important for them to grow quickly and revive Mrs Norris and Colin Creevey.

Overnight, John had also managed to develop an awful flu and spent the day shivering uncontrollably by the fire. Too ill to sleep and too ill to do much else, all he could do was watch Harry fret about Justin during their free period. Castiel had already been up to see him and take his temperature and give him several different potions on Madam Pomfrey's orders, but none of them seemed to be working as they should. Castiel gave him one to prevent it from spreading.

'I really don't know where this has come from,' said Castiel. 'I haven't seen anyone else with it.'

He fetched an extra duvet from the dormitory and dumped it on John.

'Maybe you caught it from Sherlock and that's why I haven't seen him all day.'

'You haven't?' John coraked.

'No, but it's the last day of term. I would have been more surprise if he had shown up. I wouldn't worry about him too much.'

'Mmm.'

A couple of hours later and nothing from Sherlock, Ron and Hermione were playing a game of wizard chess. John stretched his legs out and sat up straight, trying to coax some energy into his body.

'You really ought to go to the hospital wing,' Hermione said without looking up.

'I w-w-was ju-st ab-b-bout to,' he chattered. The tension in his jaw caused by his shivering was starting to give him a headache.

Harry fidgeted in the chair next to him irritating Hermione who was trying to concentrate.

'For heaven's sake, Harry,' she said, exasperated as one of Ron's bishops wrestled her knight off his horse and dragged him off the board. 'Go and find Justin if it's so important to you.'

So Harry got up to leave and John rose unsteadily to his feet wrapping the duvet tightly around himself.

'H-h-hang on, w-wait f-f-for me,' he said.

The castle was darker than usual because of the swiring grey snow at every window.

'M-maybe we should check th-the library,' John mumbled.

'Aren't you meant to be in the hospital wing?' Harry said.

John shrugged.

'J-just want to s-s-see if Sh-Sherlock's there.'

They eventually made it to the library where a group of Hufflepuffs were sat at a table near the back, but they didn't seem to be doing any work. Harry and John could see their heads through the booshelves and they were having what looked like an absorbing conversation, but they couldn't tell if Justin was with them.

John wasn't feeling particularly sneaky, but something in the tone of their conversation told him not to interrupt.

'So anyway,' a boy, whose voice John recognised as Ernie Macmillan's, was saying, 'I told Justin to hide in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for now. Of course, he's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter that he's Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?'

'That's the silliest thing I've ever heard, Ernie,' a girl spoke up.

John grinned as he recognised Molly's voice.

'So you definitely think it is him?' another girl said anxiously.

'Don't be ridiculous, Hannah. Harry wouldn't hurt anyone, least of all Muggle-borns. John and Hermione are his best friends, remember?' Molly said.

'Molly, he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one that could talk to snakes?'

'Actually yeah, I have. He's called Harry Potter.'

Ernie groaned dramatically.

'Come on, Molly, they called Slytherin himself Serpent tongue. You're only defending him because you fancy his friend – that Sherlock.'

'That- that's not true!'

'Is that supposed to convince me?'

'He does seem so nice though,' Hannah said uncertainly, 'and he's the one that made You Know Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?'

Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously.

'No one knows how he survived that attack by You Know Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted to smithereens. Only a really powerful dark wizard could have survived a curse like that.'

He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper and said, 'That's probably why You Know Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another dark wizard competing with him. I wonder what other powers Potter's been hiding.'

John lost his patience at the exact moment Harry did and they both stepped out from behind the bookshelves. John went up to each of the Hufflepuffs he hadn't met yet and shook their hands.

'Hi – h-hello there – how are you? J-John Watson. Harry Potter's friend Muggle-born,' he said breezily.

He grinned at Molly, who hid her laughter behind her hand. But then she saw the duvet and John's face.

'Oh, John, you look awful,' she frowned. 'What's the matter with you?'

'Not a lot, just the flu.'

'Well then shouldn't you be in the hospital wing?'

'I was looking for Sherlock, have you seen him?'

'Sh-Sherlock? N-no, I haven't seen him. Why would I see him?'

John shrugged.

'Hello,' Harry said. 'I'm looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley.'

The colour drained from Ernie's face.

'What do you want with him?' he said in a quavering voice.

'I wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Duelling Club,' said Harry.

Ernie bit his lip and then, taking a deep breath, said, 'We were all there. We saw what happened.'

'Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, it backed off,' Harry said.

'Actually, yes, I did see that,' Molly piped up.

'All I saw,' Ernie said stubbornly, 'was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake towards Justin,'

'I didn't chase it at him!' Harry said hotly. 'It didn't even touch him!'

'It was a very near miss-'

'Stop it now, Ernie,' Molly frowned.

'And in case you're getting any ideas,' he added hastily, ignoring Molly, 'I might tell you that you can trace my family back through generations of witches and warlocks and my blood's as pure as anyone's, so-'

'I don't care what sort of blood you've got!' Harry said fiercely. 'Why would I want to attack Muggle-borns?'

'I've heard you hate those Muggles you live with,' Ernie said swiftly. 'I'd stay away from him if I were you, John.'

'Yeah, I'll get right on that…'

'It's impossible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them,' said Harry. 'I'd like to see you try it.'

He turned on his heel and stormed out of the library. John grumbled padding after him, weighed down by his duvet and starting to feel very hot and bothered. The shivers were replaced by a clammy sweat and the headache intensified. He rounded a corner after Harry and watched as he walked straight into a snow-covered Hagrid. He filled most of the corridor in his moleskin overcoat and a dead rooster was hanging from one of his massive gloved hands. John's head swam at the sight of it.

'All righ' Harry? John?' Hagrid said. 'John, yeh don' look righ'. Shouldn' yeh be-'

'In the hospital wing? Yeah, on it. Have you seen Sherlock?'

'Sherlock? Yeah I saw him jus' a bit ago talkin' ter Professor Lockhart.'

'Talking? To Professor Lockhart?'

'Yeah, why?'

John shook his head.

'What are you doing in here, Hagrid?' Harry asked.

Hagrid held up the limp rooster.

'Second one killed this term,' he explained. 'It's either foxes or a Blood Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the Headmaster's permission ter put a charm round the hen-coop.'

John breathed out heavily and coughed. It was definitely time to go to bed.

'Harry, I'm going to head up. I'll see you later.'

Harry looked at him and winced. He looked absolutely dreadful.

'I'll go with you. Make sure you get there all right.'

John grimaced but didn't argue. He knew Harry would follow him anyway. They said goodbye to Hagrid and walked off towards the hospital wing together. Harry was so preoccupied with what Ernie had said about him that he didn't notice that John was barely able to drag himself up the stairs. They came to a particularly dark corridor. The torches had all been blown out by a strong, icy draught which was blowing through a loose window pane. It went right through John and ripped away what warmth was left in him. He shuddered violently and lurched to the side, slamming painfully against the stone wall. There was a dull thumping in his ears that blocked out all other sound and his vision flickered.

When he came to, he was lying on the ground; the shivering had returned and he felt someone shaking his shoulders. Suddenly noise filled his ears and the first thing he heard was Ernie Macmillan yelling, 'Caught in the act!'

'Shut up, Ernie,' a voice near his head said.

'What was it you said about him being friends with John and Hermione? Well now look!'

'That will do Macmillan,' Professor McGonagall said sharply.

'He's not Petrified, Ernie can't you see he's still moving? Someone pass me his duvet.'

John then felt someone wrap the duvet around him, lifting him slightly to tuck it underneath him. An ache rolled through his body and he groaned.

'John, are you awake?' Molly said slowly to him.

'Yeah, I'm awake,' he said weakly

'Do you know what happened?'

He heard a quiver in her voice and knew she wasn't talking about what happened to him.

'No. What's happened?' he asked.

'Justin's been Petrified and, I don't know how, but so's Nearly-Headless Nick,' she said in a lowered voice.

'What?' he exclaimed, sitting bolt right up. He swayed a little and Molly steadied him by his shoulers. He quickly surveyed the scene. Harry was being led away by Professor McGonagall and a few Prefects had appeared to disperse the crowd. The he saw Justin, lying stiff as a board, terrified expression turned towards the ceiling. John groaned again and put his head in his hands.

'Come on, let's get you upstairs,' Professor Flitwick squeaked, approaching him from the side. He conjured two stretchers, one for Justin and one for John. Someone had given Ernie a large fan, which he was now using to waft Nearly-Headless Nick away. Molly helped steer John's stretcher and he was glad he didn't have to walk all the way, though he hoped that Harry wasn't in too much trouble.

When you forget to upload a chapter :)))