You know school starts up again in about a week and I've only got about four chapters up these holidays. That's horrible! Please forgive me.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, only Grace Potter and her friends. All recognizable dialogue comes from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets: The Rogue Bludger.
Updated: 15/4/2014
Chapter Eleven- Shimmy a Go Go
Grace leaned over her brother as he woke, her long hair falling into his face. On his other side Professor Lockhart kneeled gingerly in the mud, conscious of the stains spreading over his sky blue robes.
"Oh no, not you," Harry moaned as soon as his eyes opened up to Lockhart's wide grin.
"Doesn't know what he's saying," Lockhart said loudly to the crowd.
"C'mon Harry, I'll take you to the hospital wing," Grace told him, pulling Harry's good arm over her shoulder. "Madam Pompfrey will help your broken arm."
"Nonsense, nonsense," Lockhart waved the suggestion off. "I can fix your arm."
Grace paused in the action of lifting Harry to his feet, frowning at the Professor.
"No!" Harry argued. "I'll keep it like this; thanks . . . I don't want a photo of this Colin."
Grace stared around, bewildered for a second, until she saw Colin Creevey snapping away with his camera. A deep sigh came from within her throat at the thought of all of those pictures he would be printing off.
"Sit him back down, Miss Potter," Lockhart continued as if Harry had made no protest at all. "It's a simple charm, really; I've use it countless times."
"Sir, I don't think that's a good idea," Grace shook her head, looking in the crowd around her for some kind of support. "He would be best in the hospital wing."
"He would really, Professor," spoke up Oliver, mud plastered to his widely grinning face. Trina was still wrapped up in his arms; both of them currently unfazed by the fact that Harry was hurt. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say."
"Really Oliver?" Grace questioned. "Your Seeker is on the ground with a broken arm and all you can do is congratulate him on a great catch?"
"To be fair, it's only a broken arm; it'll heal pretty quickly, especially with Madam Pompfrey's help," Trina reasoned. "Or that could happen."
Grace turned her head back around to see Professor Lockhart twirling his wand and pointing it at Harry's arm. The skin seemed to bubble and pop for a second from something moving beneath it. All of a sudden Harry's hand went completely slack. His bones no longer held up his fingers.
There were no longer any bones there.
"Professor," Grace gasped. "What did you do?"
"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry just toddle up to the Hospital Wing, Miss Potter you can escort him, and Madam Pompfrey will be able to - er- tidy you up a bit."
Once again, Grace slung Harry's good arm around her shoulder and this time succeeded in lifting him to his feet. She kept one arm firmly around his back as they made their way up to the castle, trailed by Ron and Hermione.
Hphphphphphphphphphphphphphp
"You should have taken him to me!" Madam Pompfrey raged, going through her medicine cabinet for the right bottle. "You of all people would know that you shouldn't have waited to take him up here; let alone allow a mediocre teacher with little to none experience in medicine to help him. I can mend bones in a second but growing them back-"
"I know- it's a hell of a lot more painful," Grace sighed. "I had barely turned my back for a second and Lockhart swooped in to save the day."
"Yes well; he's going to have to spend the night," Madam Pompfrey said.
Grace and Madam Pompfrey walked together back to Harry's bed where Ron was currently helping him into his pyjamas.
"Here," Grace said, taking the Skele-Gro from Madam Pompfrey and pouring out a beaker measurement. "It won't be pleasant but at least you'll be better in the morning."
"He wouldn't have to be better at all if the teachers in this school knew how to properly administer first aid," Madam Pompfrey muttered under her breath. "With all of the dangerous sports that the students play they need proper training."
Grace smiled at her mentor's quiet rant, turning back to Harry. He swallowed down the potion in one gulp, coughing and spluttering as soon as it was down. Grace grabbed a glass of water from his bedside table to help ease it down his throat.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Like I've had someone rip my bones out then set my throat on fire," he groaned.
"You can blame Lockhart for that," Grace grimaced. "He shouldn't have tried to do anything in the first place."
"He was just trying to help," Hermione defended. "Anyone can make a mistake."
"Hermione, you have to admit that after everything he's done, that's a pretty big mistake," Grace said. "Then again, it's not his fault you broke your arm in the first place."
"I want to know how Malfoy fixed that Bludger," Hermione said darkly.
"He would have needed outside help for something like that," Grace frowned.
"Add that to the list of things we'll ask him," Harry said.
"Yeah, like he'd tell you anything," Grace snorted. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ron and Hermione exchange glances. "Unless you're planning to make him?"
"No, I just meant if I got the chance to ask him-" Harry was cut off by the doors bursting open.
The rest of the muddy, wet Quidditch team had decided to join them, along with a couple of Grace's friends. Instead of taking the time to clean themselves up after the game they had gone down to the kitchens for cakes, sweets and bottles of pumpkin juice.
"Unbelievable flying, Harry," George said. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't look too happy."
They had only just started passing around the food and enthusiastically talking about their favourite parts of the game when Madam Pompfrey stormed over, shouting at them.
"This boy needs rest; he's got thirty three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"
Grace continued to sit and watch as her friends reluctantly gathered up the food, told Harry to get well and trudged their way out. Madam Pompfrey paused on her way back to her office to turn and talk to Grace in a softer tone.
"Grace I do not mind if you come back and stay the night but you must head down and eat something."
Grace stared at Harry's face as he struggled to get comfortable on his pillow.
"Yes, Ma'am."
Hphphphphphphphphphphphphphp
"I still don't understand how Lockhart could do that," Trina vented. "He just grabbed Harry and removed his bones."
"We already agreed we didn't like him and then he goes and does that?" Lara exclaimed.
"I think there's something up with him," Ciara reckoned, waving the sausage at the end of her fork at all of them.
After Madam Pompfrey had shooed them away from the hospital wing Fred and George thought that they should move their party up to the common room later night. Currently Grace was sitting at the Gryffindor table listening to her friends complain about Professor Lockhart while eating lunch.
"Oh c'mon!" Grace said. "Just because he's a rubbish teacher and not all that great at medical magic doesn't mean there's some big secret behind it."
"I know what the secret is," Miranda whispered. Trina, Hannah, Ciara, Lara and Grace leaned closer to Miranda curiously. "He actually doesn't have a brain."
"Haha," Ciara said dryly. "I'm not kidding though. I don't know why; I have this bad feeling about him. Aren't you mad at him Gracie?"
Grace sighed in exasperation.
"Yes, I'm extremely mad at him, it was a stupid thing to do and now Harry has to suffer because his big head wanted to show off his amazing skills."
"We believe you," Lara assured Ciara. "Just don't go making a big fuss over it in case it's nothing."
"We'll watch him and check it out if something happens again," Trina promised.
Hphphphphphphphphphphphphphp
Later that night Grace crept away from the loud music and crazy dancing in the common room to make her way to the hospital wing. Madam Pompfrey looked up and smiled when she entered but otherwise made no indication she noticed Grace walking in.
"Grace!" Harry smiled as she pulled a chair up next to his bed. "I thought I wasn't allowed visitors."
"I clean the beds here; I don't count as a visitor."
"How's the party going?"
"Last time I checked Fred and George had tied the Gryffindor banner around Oliver and were serenading him the school song from a table."
Harry laughed. "I wish I was there."
"Don't worry, Colin got plenty of photos."
"Did he get any shots of the game?"
Grace grimaced. "Well there are some awesome action shots from up in the air . . . and there's maybe a few of you on the ground . . . losing your bones."
"He tried to get me to sign a photo with Lockhart once."
"Oh yeah," Grace nodded. "That's where I don't envy you being the famous one."
"It's annoying. Apparently I'm his idol. How am I supposed to get someone who idolizes me to get away from me?"
Grace's eyes lit up. "You know what this means? You've got yourself a fanboy! Introduce Colin to Ginny and they can make a club."
Harry groaned, collapsing back onto his pillow. "You're not the first person who's suggested that."
The hospital wing rang with the sounds of Grace's laughter.
"Grace, make sure you don't keep him up too late!" Madam Pompfrey called from her office.
"Oh yeah sorry about that," Grace apologized to Harry. "It probably is better if you get some rest. I'll be right here when you wake up."
Grace pulled a pillow off the next bed to curl up in her chair with. She rested her head against the arm of her chair, watching as Harry succumbed to the day's exhaustion.
Just as his fluttered closed Grace heard him say, "Thanks for coming, Gracie."
Hphphphphphphphphphphphphphp
Hours later Grace was woken up by a loud crack on Harry's bed. She sat up in an instant to see Harry clutching desperately at thin air.
"Harry, what the hell are you doing?" she hissed.
He put a silent finger to his lips, nodding his head to the entrance of the hospital wing. Footsteps could be heard coming steadily closer until Professor Dumbledore appeared through the door carrying one end of what appeared to be a statue. Professor McGonagall came through a second later, holding up the other end of the statue. Lifting it together they managed to move the statue onto a vacant bed.
"Get Madam Pompfrey," Grace heard Professor Dumbledore whisper. She leaned into the pillow behind her head and slumped her shoulders, just enough to hide her face but still be able to see what was going on. Beside her Harry lay as still as the statue on the bed. In Madam Pompfrey's office, Professor McGonagall spoke urgently to her and then she reappeared, followed closely by Madam Pompfrey, draped hurriedly in her cardigan. Grace heard Madam Pompfrey suck in her breath as she saw what lay on the bed.
"What happened?" she whispered to Dumbledore, examining the statue closer.
"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him on the stairs."
"There was a bunch of grapes next to him," said Professor McGonagall. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter."
Grace's heart stopped for a second. Would it be Ron? Fred or George? Even Oliver could have snuck back up to congratulate his Seeker once again.
She shifted herself on the pillow to get a better view of the statue. There, in the moonlight, his hands still clutching his beloved camera, was a frozen Colin Creevey. Grace could just see his eyes, wide with fear. Her stomach felt heavy with guilt; only last night she and Harry were laughing at Colin's admiration.
"Petrified?" Madam Pompfrey asked in hushed tones.
"Yes," Professor McGonagall confirmed. "But I shudder to think . . . If Albus hadn't been on his way downstairs for hot chocolate, who knows what might have . . . "
For the next few moments Grace couldn't hear anything. Finally Dumbledore leaned down and prised the camera from Colin's tight grip.
"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" said Professor McGonagall, the hope clear in her voice.
Dumbledore didn't reply; he clicked open the back of the camera.
"Good gracious!" Madam Pompfrey said.
Steam had burst forth from the camera along with a horrid smell of burnt plastic. Grace inhaled a mouthful, causing her to cough into her hands. Madam Pompfrey spared her a stern glance before turning her attention back to the camera.
"Melted," she commented. "all melted."
"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall questioned.
"It means," Professor Dumbledore said. "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."
Madam Pompfrey clasped a hand over her mouth in shock. Professor McGonagall stared at Professor Dumbledore.
"But Albus . . . surely . . . who?"
"The question is not who," said Professor Dumbledore, his eyes resting on Colin. "The question is how . . . "
Grace locked eyes with Harry in his bed. The shock and worry she felt inside reflected in his eyes. Both of them silently asking the question, what the hell is going on?
Thank you for reading! Please review with any comments, suggestions or questions.