Chapter 18
Broken Bones and Special Brews
A/N: Almost 100 reviews for this! *gasps* thank you kindly, everyone! And yes I am from America--Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate it! :o) And we had our first snow late last night also--very exciting. I like the fall but the first snow of the season is always nice, even if it was just pretty much a dusting here. not even an inch so i still had school *blurgh*. anyway--I promise you I will not kill Harry. I refuse--He'll be in very bad shape of course but he'll bounce back, so dont worry about that! I may be cruel but not that cruel! All right--without any more ado: oh yes and i can answer those questions:
purple (plushy)
Tuesday
Hannah Abbot
Vault 713
Just had to say that LOL. I knew those answers.
On with the story!
*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Ron grimaced as the enchanter lay him down on the couch by the fireplace and watched with uncertainty as the stranger inspected the damage done to his leg. "Hairline fracture--serious but can be mended quickly."
Marcelo took his staff that was leaning against the wall by the door and aimed it at Ron's leg. "Hermione--" Ron whimpered, his eyes wide as saucers as the man began chanting something in a strange language. Almost immediately a white light shot forth from the end of the staff and hit Ron's leg, and when it disappeared: "Wow! It doesn't hurt at all anymore!"
"That, my boy, is because it is not broken anymore. Try and see if you can walk."
Hermione scootched out of the way and watched Ron struggle to his feet. He took a few steps and then walked around in a circle and grinned. "Boy--I'm glad we met you! Thanks! And you're Mr. Morbin?"
"Yes. Now. For the reason you are here--"
Hermione stood up quickly. "Yes--our best friend is really sick with the Hloke curse at Hogwarts in England, and the book said that the only way to cure the effects of the curse is by retreiving the special ingredients for the potion from you."
"I see. The Hloke curse." Marcelo paced about the room. "The potion will take about an hour to brew--it is very tricky to form, and I shall do that for you."
Ron looked at Hermione, whose cheeks were back to their normal rosy tint from the heat from the flames. "An hour?" Ron asked, turning to Hermione with a horrified expression on his face. "Harry might not have that long!"
"How long has the boy been sick?" Marcelo asked.
"He just got really sick two days ago. We thought it was just a common muggle flu. He was really sick last year but got better by Christmas so we figured it was just a result of his weakness from that."
The enchanter noded. "I see, I see. Well--we musn't waste time then. The Hloke curse is not to be taken lightly...as I am sure the two of you read it is deadly or can be potentially deadly if not taken care of at the first sign of the symptoms."
Hermione felt sick again. "So we may be too late?"She whispered, not trusting her own voice.
"We can't be too late!" Ron yelled. "Not if you make the potion now and we get back right away!"
Marcelo just gave him a look. "Have a seat and wait patiently. I'll fetch you each a cup of tea and I'll get to work."
Hermione and Ron sat down immediately, watching as the enchanter left the room. "Blimey--is he cracked or what?" Ron whispered.
Hermione hated to do it, but she nodded in agreement. "He knows too much." She whispered back. Marcelo soon entered the kitchen with two china teacups and handed them to both Hermione and Ron, and then he went to the upper floor of his cabin (Hermione had not even noticed the stairs hidden in one of the corners when she'd first entered) to prepare the potion. For a while neither Hermione or Ron spoke a word--they just sat holding their teacups and staring into the dancing fire. A loud howl could be heard from outside, and Ron jumped, turning around to peer out the window.
"Wolves." He told Hermione. She turned and peered out the window with him, and sure enough, there were a pack of wolves surrounding the cabin. She shuddered and checked her pack for the beaten up frisbee that was their portkey. There was an explosion from upstairs and Ron let out a yell, leaping into Hermione's arms.
"Ron! Get off me!" Hermione snapped. "It's probably just a powerful ingredient for the potion--surely you've heard explosions plenty of times from Fred and George!"
That was true. "But at least I KNOW Fred and George!" Ron hissed. "This guy's looney--"
"Most enchanters are looney," Hermione laughed. "They're more poweful than us."
"Hopefully Harry doesn't explode when he drinks this." Ron told her, taking a sip of his tea. It was plain with just a bit of honey stirred in--the exact way he liked tea to taste. A few more explosions and a whistling noise could be heard and the sound of something squawking, and eventually Mr. Morbin appeared with a flash of light right before them. He held a tin container about the size of a normal drinking glass.
"This should do. Mind you--be VERY careful when administiring it. The brew will have a spicy taste but he musn't spit any of it out. It usually takes up to twenty minutes before results are apparent."
Ron and Hermione stared at each other. Twenty minutes? Still, if this potion was the only thing that could save Harry from certain death, they would have to risk it.
"Thank you very much, Master Morbin." Hermione told the enchanter as she and Ron stood up.
"Do drop by my cabin again sometime," Marcelo told them with a kind smile. "It is too bad you have to leave in such a hurry."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Uh--sure." When Marcelo turned his back to them, Ron leaned sideways. "When we've both lost her minds." He whispered into Hermione's ear. She tried hard not to laugh aloud.
Marcelo turned back around again. "You have access to a port key, do you not? To get back to your school?"
Hermione reached into her pack and pulled out the beat-up frisbee. "Yep. But because of those wolves out there, could we activate it in here?"
Before she could stop him, Marcelo opened the door to the cabin and aimed his staff at the howling pack. He shouted "PLACIO INCANTARUM!"
Ron shielded his eyes as another flash of light, this time a cool blue, engulfed what seemed to be the entire area surrounding the cabin. When it dimmed a bit, he noticed that the wolves were frozen in place (and some in mid-howl so their mouths were open baring rows of sharp, whtie teeth).
"There you are, my children. Be careful on the way home. Remember Marcelo Morbin!" With that, the door of the cabin blew shut, leaving Ron and Hermione in the cold.
"Whoa! Talk about a whacko!" Ron gasped.
Hermione handed the tin of potion to Ron and set the port key in the snow. "Ready?" She asked, taking a deep breath.
Ron nodded. "Let's go home." He replied.
Broken Bones and Special Brews
A/N: Almost 100 reviews for this! *gasps* thank you kindly, everyone! And yes I am from America--Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate it! :o) And we had our first snow late last night also--very exciting. I like the fall but the first snow of the season is always nice, even if it was just pretty much a dusting here. not even an inch so i still had school *blurgh*. anyway--I promise you I will not kill Harry. I refuse--He'll be in very bad shape of course but he'll bounce back, so dont worry about that! I may be cruel but not that cruel! All right--without any more ado: oh yes and i can answer those questions:
purple (plushy)
Tuesday
Hannah Abbot
Vault 713
Just had to say that LOL. I knew those answers.
On with the story!
*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Ron grimaced as the enchanter lay him down on the couch by the fireplace and watched with uncertainty as the stranger inspected the damage done to his leg. "Hairline fracture--serious but can be mended quickly."
Marcelo took his staff that was leaning against the wall by the door and aimed it at Ron's leg. "Hermione--" Ron whimpered, his eyes wide as saucers as the man began chanting something in a strange language. Almost immediately a white light shot forth from the end of the staff and hit Ron's leg, and when it disappeared: "Wow! It doesn't hurt at all anymore!"
"That, my boy, is because it is not broken anymore. Try and see if you can walk."
Hermione scootched out of the way and watched Ron struggle to his feet. He took a few steps and then walked around in a circle and grinned. "Boy--I'm glad we met you! Thanks! And you're Mr. Morbin?"
"Yes. Now. For the reason you are here--"
Hermione stood up quickly. "Yes--our best friend is really sick with the Hloke curse at Hogwarts in England, and the book said that the only way to cure the effects of the curse is by retreiving the special ingredients for the potion from you."
"I see. The Hloke curse." Marcelo paced about the room. "The potion will take about an hour to brew--it is very tricky to form, and I shall do that for you."
Ron looked at Hermione, whose cheeks were back to their normal rosy tint from the heat from the flames. "An hour?" Ron asked, turning to Hermione with a horrified expression on his face. "Harry might not have that long!"
"How long has the boy been sick?" Marcelo asked.
"He just got really sick two days ago. We thought it was just a common muggle flu. He was really sick last year but got better by Christmas so we figured it was just a result of his weakness from that."
The enchanter noded. "I see, I see. Well--we musn't waste time then. The Hloke curse is not to be taken lightly...as I am sure the two of you read it is deadly or can be potentially deadly if not taken care of at the first sign of the symptoms."
Hermione felt sick again. "So we may be too late?"She whispered, not trusting her own voice.
"We can't be too late!" Ron yelled. "Not if you make the potion now and we get back right away!"
Marcelo just gave him a look. "Have a seat and wait patiently. I'll fetch you each a cup of tea and I'll get to work."
Hermione and Ron sat down immediately, watching as the enchanter left the room. "Blimey--is he cracked or what?" Ron whispered.
Hermione hated to do it, but she nodded in agreement. "He knows too much." She whispered back. Marcelo soon entered the kitchen with two china teacups and handed them to both Hermione and Ron, and then he went to the upper floor of his cabin (Hermione had not even noticed the stairs hidden in one of the corners when she'd first entered) to prepare the potion. For a while neither Hermione or Ron spoke a word--they just sat holding their teacups and staring into the dancing fire. A loud howl could be heard from outside, and Ron jumped, turning around to peer out the window.
"Wolves." He told Hermione. She turned and peered out the window with him, and sure enough, there were a pack of wolves surrounding the cabin. She shuddered and checked her pack for the beaten up frisbee that was their portkey. There was an explosion from upstairs and Ron let out a yell, leaping into Hermione's arms.
"Ron! Get off me!" Hermione snapped. "It's probably just a powerful ingredient for the potion--surely you've heard explosions plenty of times from Fred and George!"
That was true. "But at least I KNOW Fred and George!" Ron hissed. "This guy's looney--"
"Most enchanters are looney," Hermione laughed. "They're more poweful than us."
"Hopefully Harry doesn't explode when he drinks this." Ron told her, taking a sip of his tea. It was plain with just a bit of honey stirred in--the exact way he liked tea to taste. A few more explosions and a whistling noise could be heard and the sound of something squawking, and eventually Mr. Morbin appeared with a flash of light right before them. He held a tin container about the size of a normal drinking glass.
"This should do. Mind you--be VERY careful when administiring it. The brew will have a spicy taste but he musn't spit any of it out. It usually takes up to twenty minutes before results are apparent."
Ron and Hermione stared at each other. Twenty minutes? Still, if this potion was the only thing that could save Harry from certain death, they would have to risk it.
"Thank you very much, Master Morbin." Hermione told the enchanter as she and Ron stood up.
"Do drop by my cabin again sometime," Marcelo told them with a kind smile. "It is too bad you have to leave in such a hurry."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Uh--sure." When Marcelo turned his back to them, Ron leaned sideways. "When we've both lost her minds." He whispered into Hermione's ear. She tried hard not to laugh aloud.
Marcelo turned back around again. "You have access to a port key, do you not? To get back to your school?"
Hermione reached into her pack and pulled out the beat-up frisbee. "Yep. But because of those wolves out there, could we activate it in here?"
Before she could stop him, Marcelo opened the door to the cabin and aimed his staff at the howling pack. He shouted "PLACIO INCANTARUM!"
Ron shielded his eyes as another flash of light, this time a cool blue, engulfed what seemed to be the entire area surrounding the cabin. When it dimmed a bit, he noticed that the wolves were frozen in place (and some in mid-howl so their mouths were open baring rows of sharp, whtie teeth).
"There you are, my children. Be careful on the way home. Remember Marcelo Morbin!" With that, the door of the cabin blew shut, leaving Ron and Hermione in the cold.
"Whoa! Talk about a whacko!" Ron gasped.
Hermione handed the tin of potion to Ron and set the port key in the snow. "Ready?" She asked, taking a deep breath.
Ron nodded. "Let's go home." He replied.