Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling has the privilege of owning all the characters below, but Professor Nell and his quirky pets are free to sit in my computer screen.
jessika black / queenofthelameos: Thank you for your reviews! Very appreciated )
"Professor?"
A hefty cough was heard. "Come in."
Harry pushed open the door and stepped tentatively into the office. A random flying object immediately came whizzing past him, causing him to jump back.
"Relax, boy, that's only a Malgrewt. It won't hurt you."
"A…what?"
"Malgrewt. Flying rat."
Flying rat! Harry couldn't help feeling bemused. Whatever next!
"What did you come to see me about?" Professor Nell's gruff voice came from behind the stacks of parchment piled messily on his desk. Harry liked that about him; he wasn't one of those straight-iffy teachers who insisted on discipline and order – he had absolutely no airs and was straight to the point.
"Well, Professor, you were saying something the other day about the mess in the classroom…"
"Why, you're still on that?" A soft chuckle came. "It's been weeks, boy!"
"Well I was just curious to know why Dumbledore let that handyman in when…I thought Dumbledore knows what other people's characters are like!"
"Why are you asking me this, Harry?" Professor Nell peeped over his stacks of parchment. "This is a question for the Headmaster himself! Only he can tell you."
"But Professor, I thought you might at least tell me a bit about the handyman…"
"Harry, you're far too inquisitive for your age," mused the Professor, as he stood up from his chair. Wispy strands of white hair dangled from his fringe as he mussed up the short black crop behind. "But I can tell you that handyman was no handyman."
"He was a spy, wasn't he?"
"He wasn't just a spy."
Harry's eyes widened.
"You mean – "
---
"Harry, I don't think it's a very good idea to hang around that mutt of a professor all the time," whispered Seamus, during Potions, whereby they were concocting a rather odd-looking mixture of pink and green swirls. "You don't know if he's…well…" Seamus made a motion of a screw gone loose in the head with his left hand as he continued to stir his potion with his right. "Cranky up there."
"He isn't cranky, really."
"What is it that you keep asking him?"
"Oh. Erm." Harry hesitated. "Erm…about…about Ron!"
"Oh. Does he know the counter-curse?"
"Not that he said anything about it."
Seamus rolled his eyes. "He can't be trusted, Harry!"
"I don't know why I trust him so much either," confessed Harry, staring at his cauldron. "But he seems to make a lot of sense. And his character is quite like mine! He prefers mess, he likes to prod into odd stuff, and…and he's an orphan too."
The last few words were uttered with a tinge of sadness. Seamus said nothing and continued to stir, but Harry just stared into his cauldron. It was true that when Professor Nell told him one day after class that he had lost both his parents in a magic experiment disaster, that Harry felt a special connection with him. And furthermore, what Professor Nell had just told him, could be a hint to something…
---
"Hermione!"
She spun around, heart beating fast. "Harry?"
"Where're you going now?" Harry panted, as he caught up with her after prep time.
Hermione hesitated. "The…the hospital wing."
"To see Ron? I'll go with you."
"Thanks."
The two of them started to walk on, but in silence. Harry put his hands into his robe pockets, not knowing what to really say. Hermione on the other hand, was just completely emotionless. Everything had just tumbled into a heap on top of her; she couldn't figure out which were her true emotions and what was expected of her. She couldn't figure out which was genuine concern and which was …
"So Hermione…" Harry cleared his throat to begin. "I…"
"It's okay, Harry. You don't have to say anything."
Harry was a little taken aback, but he didn't say any more.
They reached the hospital wing. Harry made to go in, but Hermione just clung onto the door, staring at the motionless statue of Ron on the bed. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, and her lip quivered. Harry looked at her awkwardly. "Hermione…"
"Harry, it's all my fault…if I hadn't gone to talk to Malfoy, if I hadn't tried to help him…Ron wouldn't be…"
"Hush, Hermione, don't berate yourself. Besides, this is not the time to do so. We've got to think of a way to get Ron back to normal."
"But how!" Hermione gripped the door harder, tears flowing faster. "Not even Madam Pomfrey knows how to cure him! It could be a Permanent Hex for all we know!"
"I don't think it is. If it was, they would have sent him to St. Mungo's immediately," said Harry, firmly, but Hermione refused to listen to reason. "If I didn't go and try to be a fool of a help to that unappreciative jerk of a Malfoy! Oh Harry why was I so stupid? Why did I endanger poor Ron? Why did I…"
Halfway through her wails, Hermione suddenly heard something inside her head and stopped.
Harry, who had been staring at Ron, looked back at Hermione in surprise at the abrupt end of her cries. "Hermione?"
"Wait…wait…I hear something."
Harry kept silent, watching Hermione with a tinge of doubt. Her eyes were wide.
"Harry, what's the time?" Her voice had a growing sense of urgency.
"Time? Oh. Erm. Five."
"Five…five…" She suddenly looked very flustered. "Three hours from now. Eight. Eight. At the tower…at the tower…eight…"
"What at the tower?" Harry looked perplexed.
Hermione suddenly gave a cry of despair. "Harry! He's meeting Voldemort at eight tonight!"
"Who's meeting…you mean Draco Malfoy?" It dawned upon Harry a second later. "Hermione, this is not the time to be thinking of that twit!"
"Nono, you don't get it, Harry, he's meeting Voldemort to be rewarded for his first task!"
"And what about it?" Harry hissed, as he dragged Hermione away from the hospital wing door and down the corridor to a secluded area.
Hermione tried to catch her breath, as she stared into Harry's green eyes. "That means…that means he will probably get his second task there. And – we need to stop him from accomplishing it. But…but…that means Draco will die," her eyes turned glassy. "He will…"
"What did he say, Hermione?" Harry's voice was grim.
"He…he said that – he said eight at tower. Dark Lord. That's all he said. But this was his first task – I'm sure Ron was his first task…Harry!" Hermione suddenly gripped his robe sleeves. "Harry I'm very sure Draco didn't do it. I'm very sure he was under the Imperius Curse or something! I'm very sure that…"
"Hermione, you're NOT SURE!" Harry lost his temper. "You DON'T KNOW whether he was under a curse or whatever, stop assuming! And I've never seen you so out of control before! Who was the one who could always remember her spells when we were all freaked out? Who was the one who would always tell us to calm down and think? Who was the one…"
"Who was the one whose intuition was mostly correct?" Hermione's tone was dangerous as she cut in. Harry stared at her, flabbergasted. "Look, Harry, I'm sorry that I've been an absolutely jerk these few weeks but you're not the one who's been having voices in your head! And I think that we can't help Ron till we settle Malfoy's problems once and for all because after all he was the one who cast the curse! So I AM going to look for Malfoy tonight, and I AM going to figure out how to stop him from accomplishing his next task…"
"And you're going to figure out how to save him, huh?" finished Harry, sarcastically.
Hermione looked at him. "Yes."
Harry gave a derisive snort.
"I'm going. It's up to you."
She turned to leave, holding back her tears as she did so. Then she began to walk.
"Wait, Hermione!"
She spun around, eyes lighting up.
Harry sighed. "You know you're not doing ANYTHING without me."
"So says my intuition," whispered Hermione, with a weak smile, and this time the tears did flow.
"Oh bloody hell!" Harry muttered in a comical imitation of Ron, causing Hermione to smile a bit more, as they walked on. "And in the meantime, you've got to hear what Professor Nell told me this morning. He said…"