Madame Pomfrey was in her office when Frisk limped into the Hospital wing, and the rest of the beds were empty. "Be out in just a second, if it's not an emergency," she called. The Ravenclaw prefect helped Frisk reach a bed, and sit down on it. When Madame Pomfrey came out, he pointed out the younger Gryffindor, and departed, as he had his own class to get to, and he was late.
"Frisk?" asked Madame Pomfrey, her voice betrayed her worries. She walked over to check on her helper turned patient. "What happened to you?" she asked.
"A bully," said Frisk, and she detailed the encounter upstairs.
The healer listened intently, then shook her head in frustration. "I'll never understand bullies. They don't happen often with portraits watching every hallway, but they do happen. Anyway, roll up your robe, and let me take a look." Frisk did so, gingerly, her shin was still sore to the touch.
"Lumostos," Madam Pomfrey intoned. The tip of her wand lit with a warm silver light, and held it close to Frisk's wounded leg. The light seemed to go right past the Frisk's skin and muscles to illuminate the bones underneath. She studied what she saw for a few minutes, enough time for Frisk's mind to create several life shattering scenarios about what she could be seeing. "I was wondering how a simple kick might break a shin. You have small fractures all over your legs. Probably from your falls. See?"
Once pointed out, Frisk did see. There were minor scuffs and bits and spider cracks all along her leg bones. "What do we do?" Frisk said anxiously.
"It means you're likely to break your legs again, if we don't treat the baseline problem," Madam Pomfrey explained, "The most straightforward method is skele-grow, that's what we ought to do. It's easiest to start from scratch," She paused, and thought better of the suggestion. "Actually, what I suggest is that I mend your actual break right now, that will let you get to class. Come back after dinner on Friday, and I can rebuild your bones over the weekend."
"That sounds good," Frisk said politely. She was not inclined to argue with the healer. She had seen what happened to people who tried that.
"Very good, now hold still." Madam Pomfrey waved her wand in a rapid, complex pattern over the spot of the break. When she finished, though, Frisk didn't feel noticeably better, but her physician had repeated her previous bone light incantation and was looking over the break point with satisfaction. "Can you stand, Frisk?"
Frisk's leg still hurt, but she lifted herself off the bed and put her feet gingerly down, and yes, she was able to stand.
Madam Pomfrey had a look of satisfaction. "Let me go get some numbing potion for the pain," she said, heading over to the cabinet to retrieve a blue bottle. She measured a dose into a cup, and handed it to Frisk, who drank it promptly. The potion tasted just enough like cherry to remind her of the flavor, but not close enough to actually takes good. With that said, the pain was gone within moments, so if nothing else, it was effective.
"Very good. Let me write you a note, and you can be off to... what class do you have now?
"Defense," Frisk replied. "But, Madam Pomfrey, can you teach me that charm you used to look at my bones? Lumostos?"
"I can, but you have class to get to," Pomfrey told her. "Tell you what, when you come back on Friday, I will."
"Deal," Frisk said, smiling. "Thank you," she said, holding out her hand to shake. Then she was off to try to get to her class again, at least if the stairwells didn't get in her way this time.
When Frisk arrived at dinner that night, she had planned to keep the incident quiet. While her fellow first years had whispered to themselves about why Frisk was late, Professor Lupin hadn't said anything after taking Madam Pomfrey's note. She was talking to Ginny about how Opal had gotten her permission, but they'd not yet heard from anyone else when she was interrupted.
"Dreemurr," came the voice behind her.
She recognized it immediately and held back a sigh. "Cormac," she said, forcing a smile and she turned around to face the older student. His unpleasant look made Frisk wondered briefly what McGonagall punishments had devised for him.
"A Slytherin," he said, coldly. "You came to the defense of a slinking, treacherous, double faced, Slytherin. I thought you were a Gryffindor."
"What are you talking about, Cormac?" Ginny asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and suspicion.
"He was just trying to get to class, Cormac," Frisk said mildly. "Just like I was."
Connor snorted. "And he ran into me. You should be careful which Slytherins you talk to, there's a better than even chance you talk to one that looks up to the death eaters. So decide what side you're on."
"Side?" Frisk protested. "Cormac, he's a student in another house. He's not an enemy."
"You're naive, Frisk, but you'll learn. Slytherins can't be trusted. And you should stay out of my way," and with that, and a casual bump against Frisk's seat, he headed up the table to the upper class area. Frisk watched him as he headed up, and noticed there were several people in that area watching her in return. She shook her head and returned to her dinner.
"What was that all about?" Ginny asked. Frisk could still feel the eyes of her classmates on her, and discussion in their area of the great hall had dropped dramatically. So, not seeing any real choice, Frisk told the story. When she was finished, some people looked sympathetic, others shrugged their shoulders, but there was a clear number that seemed to share Connor's opinion, even if they didn't condone his violence. That was disheartening, though it didn't change what Frisk thought.
Frisk finished her food, leaving the table quickly. After reaching the stairwell, the sound footfalls from behind told her that Ginny was racing to catch up. "For what it's worth, I think you did the right thing, and I hope I would have done it too," Ginny said as Frisk stopped to wait for her.
"Thanks," Frisk told her as they climbed up to the common room. They were the second and third person in there. Hermione had already put up her book-fort, and was working on some essay or other. As Frisk hadn't spent a good deal of time on her own homework over the last three days, it seemed like a good idea to catch up herself.
"There's one thing I don't understand," Ginny said, as she took out her potions book. Frisk had already cracked open her charms textbook, and was ready to practice her opening charm on the padlock she'd been given for this purpose.
"Alohomora!" Frisk declared to the unimpressed lock. "What's that, Ginny?"
"Why'd did the stairs choose that point to move?" she asked. "It led you right into the confrontation."
Frisk's hand paused in double checking the charm's gesture in the Standard Book of Spells. "That's actually a good question. I have no idea."
"What was that?" Hermione's head bobbed into view from behind her arithmancy book. "Stairs moving?"
Frisk briefly outlined the story, with how the stairway had swung with her on it. "Has that ever happened to you?" She asked.
"No, it hasn't," Hermione said. "But I've read 'Hogwarts: A History'. There's so many enchantments on this castle that nobody knows what they all do any more. The author speculates that maybe one of the founders, or maybe Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, working together, gave the castle a limited sentience. Or maybe there's just been so much magic in the halls that the castle was able just to start paying attention on its own. Either way, I think you're right. I think the castle did know that you'd be able to help there, and changed its pathways to suit." Hermione paused, thinking. "I wonder if that's how I ended up running in front of you so many times... that it knew you needed to know about..." she glanced at Ginny, "The time turner."
That was a lot to think about. "Should I be flattered?" asked Frisk, wryly. "I'm glad the castle thinks I can handle this, but I'd rather not have any more crises until I've been to see Madam Pomfrey. If it's all the same to the castle, anyway."
Ginny laughed. Hermione laughed too, and her head disappeared back behind the books.
Frisk returned to the padlock. "Alohomora!", she chanted, but the padlock was still unimpressed.
"How are you feeling?" Madam Pomfrey asked her on Saturday morning. Frisk had spent the night with no bones in her legs, a sensation she would just as soon never have again.
"Better, I guess," Frisk said. Her friends had kept her company over night. Even Ron and Hermione had made appearances, though Harry was too busy with Quidditch practice to join them. But nobody had come to see her yet this morning. They were probably still eating.
"Why don't we take a look?" The healer suggested. "You wanted to try the bone-light spell, right?"
Frisk did. She sat up, reached over, and grabbed her wand from where it rested on the bedside table. Then she looked up excitedly for instruction.
"It's actually not that exciting," Madam Pomfrey said, noting Frisk's eager face. "Just like the base spell that it's a derivative of, Lumos, it simply makes the wand emit light. In this case, the wand emits light that only the bones reflect, and a side effect, makes the skin translucent enough to see the reflected light. So, listen and repeat: Lumostos. Then hold you wand over where you want to see."
"Lumostos," repeated Frisk. Her wand glowed with the same silver light that the Healer's had, and she lowered it over her legs. As before, the wand's light illuminated the bones of Frisk's legs. They glowed a bit whiter than before, and as advertised, the cracks were gone.
"Splendid, can you stand?" Madam Pomfrey asked her.
Just like the last time she'd been asked that question, Frisk cautiously raised herself off the bed. She gingerly tested her balance while holding the side of the bed. After a moment, she let go, confident in her new bones capability to support herself. "Looks like I can," she said.
"Then you can go up to breakfast," the healer said. "Will I be seeing you tomorrow?"
"Absolutely," Frisk said. "And thank you again."
The rest of the weekend went by as weekends had for her in her first year, but this was the last week before a week long Easter break. So that was something for Frisk to look forward to. She climbed down to the potions dungeon, and lined up with the other Gryffindors. When the door was thrown open and the students filed in, Frisk felt a tap on the shoulder.
She turned to see the Slytherin she'd helped in the corridor the Thursday before, and for the first time, got a good look at him. He was a brown eyed fellow, with unkempt brown hair, and he was giving her a nervous smile. His robes were disheveled and slightly stained, and his green Slytherin scarf was draped around his shoulders. "I know you don't get the same partner each class, Frisk, and I know you've had differences with Professor Snape, so I thought I could partner with you this time around," he indicated one of the middle, usually empty, tables. "I'm good in potions."
"Okay," Frisk said, somewhat bemused. "Steven, right?"
"That's me," he said. He put his empty cauldron on the indicated table. Frisk went to get hers, and set up next to him. As there was an even number of students in both houses, this caused a bit of a problem. The odd student out in Gryffindor (Laura Johnson) and Slytherin (whom she didn't know the name of) looked at at each other, then coldly at Frisk and Steven, and each of them decided to work alone that day. If Professor Snape had an opinion on the unusual student set up, he didn't share it. "Today, you will be working on a forgetfulness potion. Directions," he flicked his wand, "are on the blackboard. And you may wish to remember this one."
Frisk stared at him, had the potions master actually made a pun? He may have, it may have even been intentional, but nobody laughed or groaned.
Steven had pulled out a notebook, and was beginning to copy the instructions and ingredients. Frisk did the same. "Here," he said, when he finished. "Double check me?" Frisk, surprised, did so. That was something she'd never done with her previous partners, and it'd be something she'd make sure to do from then on.
"Looks good," Frisk said. "I'll get the dittany and start to grind it, why don't you get the Flobberworm mucus and measure it out." Steven nodded, and departed to the store cupboard. For a change, potions was mostly quiet, while Snape did slink around the room, and he did harass other of the Gryffindors, he didn't say a cruel word to either Frisk or Steven.
Towards the end of the class, the professor did approach their desk, and Frisk prepared herself for the usual criticism. Instead, he looked at Frisk with the same look that the monsters of the underworld sometimes did when they had a particularly strong case of déjà vu. Frisk looked back in complete confusion, because she had no idea what could be causing it. After several seconds, his eyes shifted to the orange potion bubbling nicely in front of Frisk. "Good job, Ms. Dreemurr," he finally said, and moved on.
Frisk's jaw dropped.
Steven poked her out of her paralysis. "We're not done," he whispered. "We still need to stir it," he consulted his notes, "rapidly for a minute." He turned over his timer. "Go."
At the end, they bottled their potions for inspection. Frisk would have given a lot for an explanation, but she didn't dare ask for one. They cleaned up. "Did it go well?" Steven asked anxiously.
"It did," Frisk said, smiling at him.
"Then... then can we do it again next class?"
"Let's," said Frisk. They cleaned up their potion materials, and were heading upstairs towards dinner, when they were intercepted by Luna, waving a piece of paper in front of them. Steven stopped in surprise.
"He signed it," Luna told her. "Actually, he signed it about three weeks ago, but it was press time, and he lost it. He finally found it again. So I can go with you to help save Asriel's soul. Three down, four to go, right?"
"Wait, what's this?" asked Steven.
"Luna..." Frisk said, turning red and glancing pointedly at Steven.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Luna said, perhaps noticing Steven for the first time. "Was it supposed to be a secret?" she asked Frisk. "I thought we still needed more people to help, and I thought you were asking him."
"Asking me what?" Steven asked, even more confused.
"I'm sorry, Steven," Frisk began. She gave him the synopsis of what they were trying to do. "And I can't think that you would..." she tried to conclude.
"I'll ask," he said immediately. Luna beamed at him. Frisk stared in shock. "A chance to do a favor for the King and Queen of Monsters?" he said, "That's an amazing opportunity." He realized what he said, and he turned even redder then Frisk's Gryffindor scarf. "I was thinking of... like... a reference. I want to work for the Ministry of Magic... and being able to say I did that for them? That would be really good, right?" he said. He saw Frisk's neutral face, and looked crestfallen. "I know what you want to hear, that someone's in trouble and of course I'll risk myself for them, right? Right." He started to back off.
Frisk held out hand to stop him. "If it was for someone else, someone who wasn't so important. Would you volunteer to help then?" she asked him.
"I think so. It's still showing a willingness to help others," he gave the same nervous smile he had when he'd asked Frisk to partner in potions. "I'm in Slytherin, people think help from someone in our house comes with some sort of dark bargain. I'm kind of used to it."
"I don't think it is," Frisk said. "Not any more than I'm willing to think each and every Gryffindor is capable of being selfless and courageous at all times." She held out her hand for Steven to take. "Asriel needs help. If you're willing to offer it, I want to accept it. You have your reasons, and I accept those," she said smiling. "If they're not perfectly altruistic, I'll live."
"And with any luck," Luna put in, "So will Asriel."
They'd reached the great hall, and they walked together up to the staff table, so Steven could ask Dumbledore for the permission slip. When Dumbledore saw him, he gave both him and Frisk a genuine smile, before conjuring up a piece of paper to hand down from the dais.