Chapter Fourteen
A/N: I OWN NOTHING!
Simba had thought that when one was petrified, as Dumbledore called it, that they could not feel anything that happened to them. Alas, that was not the case.
Hey watch it, he mentally growled as Dumbledore started to poke and prod. He didn't know why the human was doing it but he did know that it tickled a bit. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry. He didn't like the look on his brother's face one bit.
"I strongly advise caution to all," Dumbledore stated and Simba felt himself floating. Thankfully, it was McGonagall performing the spell and not Lockhart. Had it been that fraud, Simba would have feared for his life.
Nose still itches people! he thought angrily. He couldn't move and it was bothering him! How long did it take before someone realized that?
Then again, it's not like you can talk to tell them, he sighed in his head. He had a feeling that being petrified was not going to be fun.
0000
The Hospital Wing had very comfortable beds; at least comfortable enough that Simba wouldn't go insane lying there for however long it took.
"How are the Mandrakes doing Ponoma?" Pomfrey asked Professor Sprout.
"They're doing fine," Professor Sprout said with a sigh. "I do hope that young Mr. Potter doesn't do anything stupid. You know how siblings will do anything to protect each other."
Simba felt a sense of loyalty towards the head of Hufflepuff. She was the first person at Hogwarts who realized that Harry was his brother, not his owner.
How can I protect his pride while I'm like this? he thought glumly, staring at the ceiling. A bit of his mane brushed into his eyes and he mentally groaned. Just perfect.
0000
He had several visitors over the next few weeks. Oliver Wood had even stopped by to see how he was doing.
"Do get unpetrified soon," he said as he was leaving. "Harry is awfully distracted at practice."
Simba mentally snorted. Trust Oliver to focus on the game and not the player. Harry and Ron had been down whenever they had free time—which almost seemed nonexistent.
Is it just me, or does Harry seem almost exhausted? Simba thought after one of the visits. Harry seemed to have bags under his eyes and he almost seemed to fall asleep whenever he blinked.
Of course, I wish I could sleep. I've never been good at sleeping with my eyes open.
His thoughts drifted over to Ginny. Why had she been in that hallway? Why had she run away from him?
Well, you've got plenty of time to think, he thought and then mentally sighed. He was quickly getting bored.
0000
That weekend marked the first Quidditch game of the year and Madam Pomfrey was kindly letting the window stay open as to allow Simba to listen.
"You'd sneak out if you could," she said with a smile. "Enjoy."
Simba would have nuzzled her if he could move. He heard every word of Lee's commentary and dread filled his heart as he heard someone mention a rouge bludger.
A what? he thought. That didn't happen last year!
The sound of a whistle allowed him to relax. There was no way that Harry could get hurt anymore after the game was over. He hated being wrong.
"You should have been brought straight to me!" Madam Pomfrey snapped. "Oh Mr. Malfoy, stop making such a fuss! You can go!"
Simba mentally smirked at the comment towards Malfoy and wondered what had happened to the little snake. No way did he have enough talent on a broom to get on the team.
"I can mend bones in a heart beat, but growing them back—"
"You will be able to, won't you?" Harry asked and Simba heard the note of panic in his brother's voice. It made him wonder just what had happened to his little brother—and who's arse he had to kick.
"Of course I'll be able to but it will be tricky," the nurse said. "You're in for a rough night Potter. Re-growing bones is a nasty business."
Probably not as bad as eating grubs for the first time, Simba thought and inwardly chuckled as Harry spat out his drink.
"Well, what did you expect? Pumpkin juice?" the nurse asked and Simba wondered what was with these people. Grubs were gross but a juice made out of pumpkins was normal?
"Hey Simba," Fred walked over and scratched the lion's nose. Simba inwardly sighed; the redhead was officially his new favorite person. The team stayed at Harry's bedside for a while before the nurse chased them out.
Wow, humans have thirty-three bones in their arms? You learn something new every day, Simba thought, impressed. He was bored though, and staring at the ceiling was growing dull.
"Hey Simba," Harry whispered. "I know you can't hear me but I hope you're doing okay. Hermione, Ron and me, well, we're trying to find out who did this to you."
Simba wished he could show Harry that he could hear him. He was touched, but hoped this quest of Harry's wouldn't become life threatening. He didn't value the bet any more than he valued his brother's life.
000
House-elves were weird. It was official and Simba really wanted to chase Dobby around the hospital wing for putting his brother in danger.
"Dobby had to come," the house elf said and Simba mentally rolled his eyes. Dobby didn't have to do anything really. If something was after Harry, he would protect his brother.
Yeah, you're really protecting him aren't' you?
Oh shut up annoying voice of negativity.
I'm only saying that you can't really protect your brother while you're petrified.
I said SHUT UP!
Okay, he really needed a hobby of some sort if he was starting to have arguments with the voices in his head. Dobby left as the sound of footsteps grew louder.
"Set him down on the bed," McGonagall said and Simba wondered what had happened.
"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked and Simba sent a mental thank you to the nurse for asking the questions he wanted answered.
"You know, I think…I think he's been petrified, Madam Pomfrey," McGonagall said. "Maybe he managed to take a picture of his attacker."
Only one person Simba knew of carried a camera around with him at all times. Colin. This meant war. It was one thing to attack him, but to attack a first year—that was low.
0000
The weeks flew by and before Simba knew it, it was Christmas. The school was quiet for a change, which was good because he was tired of hearing rumors of his brother being a dark wizard.
If he's dark, then I'm a hyena, he inwardly snorted. Colin was still as stiff as a statue, causing Simba to wonder just how long this potion took to brew. He also wondered what idiotic plan his brother was cooking up. It had to be soon.
"Oh dear," he heard Madam Pomfrey gasp and saw Nearly Headless Nick go past his head. Only, Nick wasn't moving.
What could do that to a ghost? Simba thought in dread. He didn't even notice there were more people in the Hospital Wing until Professor Flitwick started to talk.
"Albus has been talking about the school possibly closing," he said in a whisper, which wasn't as affective as he wished due to his high voice. "What will happen to the students in that case?"
"They'll go back to their homes," Pomfrey sighed. "The purebloods have it lucky. Their parents can home school them or get them a tutor. It's the Muggle borns I'm worried about."
"Aren't we all?" Flitwick asked. "At least no one's died this time."
"Don't say that!" Pomfrey snapped. "You know everyone's nervous enough as it is."
Flitwick gasped, and whispered something Simba couldn't make out. Pomfrey seemed to take comfort from it though.
"We'll get through this," Flitwick said. "We have to."
0000
Was it possible to die of silent laughter? Simba didn't know, however seeing Hermione with a furry face was the highlight of his year.
"I know you're laughing," Hermione glared at his bed. "It was a cat hair, not a mistake."
How'd she mess up? She's the smartest witch of her year!
Even the brightest mess up sometimes.
Simba mentally sighed. The voices in his head were starting up again.
"How are you doing Simba?" Hermione got out of bed and walked over to him. "Harry's a nervous wreck, trying to find the heir. He's poured through every book in the library, well as much as he could with his busy schedule."
Wow, and that's a lot!
"I know that's a lot," Hermione nodded, almost as if she had read Simba's mind. "He's worried about you though. Here."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out Timon.
"I couldn't bring Pumba, so I thought seeing one of your guardians would be better than none," Hermione said with a smile and then slunk back to bed before Pomfrey could see her.
"Hey buddy," Timon patted Simba's paw. "It's boring without you. Why didn't you just stay with us?"
You know, I'm beginning to wish I had, Simba thought. It wasn't pleasant being petrified; and he really needed to be pee.
"You okay buddy?" Timon asked. "We'll get you set, you know that? We'll help out as much as we can."
Thanks Timon, Simba thought with an inward smile. I'll pay you back for your loyalty someday.
"Visiting hours are over," Madam Pomfrey called out and Timon ducked under the covers on Simba's bed.
"Just like old times, eh buddy?" Timon asked.
Just like old times, Simba agreed. If only he could move around with his brother. That would make it even more like old times.