Meaning of One, Part Two: Chambers and Secrets by Sovran
Original Author's Notes:
Thanks to the beta crew, would win any Olympic six-person beta competition.
Status updates and story discussion for Meaning of One (and my other works) can now be found at Metafic (the link is in my profile).
Chapter Fifteen: Dislocation
Harry and Ginny walked into the school breakfast on Sunday morning with Ron and Hermione just behind them. Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs surrounded the second-years on every side, all still talking animatedly about the previous morning's Quidditch match.
Seconds after Harry sat down, Colin Creevey approached their section of the table. Strangely enough, Fred and George accompanied the omnipresent first-year.
"You have to see this, Harry," Fred said.
George nodded. "Go on, Colin. Show him."
Beaming, Colin slid a large photograph onto the table. Somehow, he had managed to capture the precise moment when Harry had caught the Snitch. Harry and his Nimbus made a streak of red across the bottom of the photo every few seconds, and Malfoy hovered in the centre. As Harry swept into the frame, Malfoy's expression changed from a sneer to a fearful look to an obvious gasp of horror as he spotted the Snitch. Behind him, in the background, the anger of the Slytherin crowd was obvious. Watching the scene cycle, Harry and Ginny could almost hear the green-robed students' roars of rage and frustration.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" George asked.
"Brilliant!" Ginny said, laughing at Malfoy's dumbstruck expression. "How'd you manage it, Colin?"
The small boy shrugged, grinning. "Just lucky, really."
Fred clapped Colin on the shoulder. "We're thinking of making a poster out of it for the common room."
"Has Malfoy seen this?" Harry asked, turning to peer across the Great Hall.
"But of course," Fred said.
George smirked. "Might've been one or two-"
"- or twenty-two -"
"- posted in the corridor outside the Slytherin common room."
"And a dozen more at each table here this morning."
"Pretty odd how they all got developed that fast," George said, shrugging artfully.
Ginny looked around the Hall. At all four tables, students were passing around suspiciously similar sheets of paper. Everyone but the Slytherins was overcome with laughter, and occasional guffaws could be heard which sounded remarkably like 'idiot' and 'spoiled' and much less polite terms. The Slytherins themselves were much quieter, but their sullen expressions were no less communicative.
Snape stalked down the length of each table, snatching up the photos when he saw them, but two more appeared for each one he took. Eventually, he gave up, spun about, and stalked back to his seat with a thunderous scowl on his pallid face.
"And you know nothing about this, correct?" Hermione asked the twins, one eyebrow raised.
"Nothing at all," George said. "D'you know anything, Colin?"
He shook his head vigorously, though his eyes showed a hint of fatigue. "No, sir!"
"Good lad."
Colin looked utterly awestruck, but he faced Harry with a bright smile. "So, Harry, d'you suppose . . . ?" He hefted his ever-present camera hopefully.
You know, if you'd just let him, he'd stop, Ginny said, flashing Harry an impish grin. And you have to admit, that photo of Malfoy is worth something.
Harry sighed and spoke as softly as he could. "Not now, Colin," he said, glancing around the crowded Hall. "Maybe when no-one else is around, okay?"
"Okay," Colin said, nodding energetically. "See you later, Harry."
The twins moved off, talking to each other and pulling Colin along between them. The first-year's head barely reached their shoulders.
"He looks like a five-year-old with bodyguards," Harry said, shaking his head at the odd group.
Ron snorted in laughter. "He's hardly an inch shorter than you, Harry, and he's a year younger."
Harry shrugged and looked away across the Hall, and he finally spotted Draco Malfoy. The blond boy watched Colin leave, an expression of absolute loathing on his cold features. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him, eating messily, but all of the other Slytherins had left a large, empty space about the disgraced Seeker.
That's not good.
"Any day that starts with Malfoy looking like that can't be all bad," Ron said, looking over Harry's shoulder. "Some 'heir' he is, eh? Old Salazar probably wants to chuck him back out again."
"Oh yeah, about that . . ." Harry said. He and Ginny told Ron and Hermione about Dobby's visit in a low whisper.
"He's ruddy mental," Ron said when they were finished. "How can he think he's helping you?"
"Exactly, Ron. He's mad," Ginny said.
Hermione was staring at the table. "It's rather interesting, though, isn't it?"
"Which bit?" Harry asked.
"Well . . . the family he works for aren't very nice to him, but he clearly can't say that. And when you asked him about the Heir of Slytherin, he couldn't talk about that, either."
Ron snorted. "Finally going to admit it's Malfoy, then?"
"No, but . . ." Hermione sighed. "It is starting to seem more plausible, isn't it?"
Both Ron and Hermione looked up at the same moment, and Ginny turned around in time to see Malfoy shove himself up from the Slytherin table and storm out of the Hall. Laughter followed him until he was out of sight, and the blond boy's face was thunderous.
Ginny faced Hermione again. "If he is the Heir of Slytherin, he's going to be out for blood."
She and Harry winced at the unintended slip, but Ron merely nodded. "Literally."
And Colin's Muggle-born.
"Maybe we should start on that potion right away," Hermione said, her brow furrowed. "It's the only idea we've got."
"What do we need to do?" Harry asked.
"Start the base ingredients," she said. "We may still have to wait for some of the others, but at least we can have the base ready."
After breakfast, the four of them returned to Gryffindor tower, and Hermione slipped her Potions kit out of the common room under Harry's Invisibility Cloak. After talking with Myrtle long enough to make her flee, they set up a cauldron in the second cubicle of the abandoned toilet.
Hermione revelled in the whole process, instructing each of them in how to prepare an ingredient while she monitored the temperature of the cauldron. A bright blue flame hovered in the bowl of the toilet and kept the concoction simmering.
"How d'you do that, Hermione?" Harry asked, looking up from the knotgrass he was braiding. "Make the fire stay like that, I mean. Shouldn't it burn out or fall or something? It does when we cast it."
Hermione shrugged. "Just cast it at the air instead of an object and think about wanting it to keep burning. It won't last forever, but it should be fine if I re-start it once a day."
That's not so different from the throw-dough spell, Ginny said.
We'd never have thought of casting it at the air, though.
Harry and Ginny left the toilet that afternoon to see Professor McGonagall. They told her about Dobby's visit, too, but she could not make any more sense of it than the students had. "I will pass that information along to the Headmaster," she said. "I myself do not suspect that Mr. Malfoy is involved in this, but I trust that Professor Dumbledore will draw his own conclusions."
They spent the remainder of the hour casting dough-balls at yet another conjured target. I hate to say it, Ginny said as they left, but I'm getting awfully tired of that spell.
We're getting close, though. Another half-inch smaller is all we need.
Ginny grinned as they reached the second floor corridor, which Filch had finally abandoned. And if the twins ever want to play again, they're going to be in for a nasty shock.
The Polyjuice Potion occupied much of the second-years' attention over the next week. Hermione insisted that they had to keep up on their homework, and they could not all disappear from the common room regularly without someone noticing, so they slipped into the haunted toilet for a few minutes several times each day. Hermione and Ginny did most of the work, as they were much less conspicuous going into and out of a girls' toilet.
On Tuesday, Hermione and Ron let themselves be heard saying that they were going to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch practice, but en route to the pitch they veered off to spend a few hours grinding Hermione's precious bicorn horn into powder. Though they did not tell their friends, Harry and Ginny were glad to escape the toilet and fly again. The crazed Bludger was back among the school kit and behaving normally, much to the Gryffindors' relief.
I'm amazed it can fly at all if Lockhart fixed it, Ginny said, keeping a wary eye on the iron ball.
Harry shrugged. He can't get everything wrong, can he?
After dinner on Friday, Harry and Ron played chess while Hermione read Charms from the Charming and Ginny pretended to watch the game. All four of them were interrupted by a pretentious cough.
"Ahem."
Harry and Ginny looked up to find Percy standing at their table. His prefect badge was gleaming, and he had the very Percy-ish air of someone who was on important business. "Ronald, Ginevra," - Ginny scowled at him — "as you should know, our parents' twenty-fourth anniversary is tomorrow. I've selected a card, as I'm sure none of the rest of you have taken the time to do so."
Git, Ginny said. He knows we can't go to Hogsmeade.
We did forget, though. Otherwise, we could have ordered something.
"So?" Ron asked.
Percy huffed and drew himself up even straighter. "The least you can do is sign it, Ronald. Here." He pulled a card from his pocket and placed it neatly on the table next to the chessboard.
"Undiscovered territory!" Ron's knight shouted cheerfully, eyeing the folded paper.
Ron borrowed a quill from Hermione and signed the card without reading it, and then he slid it towards Ginny. Opening it, she saw a very bland printed message surrounded by Ron's scrawl and a block of Percy's neat handwriting. What shall we write?
Err . . . dunno, Harry said.
Ginny sighed, having momentarily forgotten that Harry had never seen an anniversary card in his life, much less ever had cause to write in one. She pushed the awkward feeling away. Well, we can't just say 'glad you haven't killed each other', so we'll have to come up with something.
Harry grinned. How about 'Thanks for not killing the twins'?
Or 'Sorry this card is rubbish'.
After a moment's consideration, Ginny wrote, "Thanks for everything, Happy twenty-fourth, all our love, Ginny & Harry."
She handed the card back to Percy, who strode off towards the twins and their friends.
Early the next week, Percy received a letter from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and he passed it among his siblings. Mrs. Weasley thanked all of the children for the card and related that she and Mr. Weasley had enjoyed a lovely dinner together. She also said that they were planning a trip to Romania to visit Charlie over Christmas. The five Weasley children and Harry were all welcome to go, but they were also allowed to stay at Hogwarts if they preferred.
Ginny stared at the letter, utterly conflicted. I want to go. It'd be fun to see Charlie and his dragons. Maybe we could meet Norbert.
But . . .
Yeah. 'But.' She sighed.
Ginny looked up at Hermione. The three of them and Ron had once again gathered around one of the tables in the Gryffindor common room. "Hermione," she whispered, "do we know when the potion will be ready?"
"Well," she answered promptly, "we have to get some fluxweed picked at a full moon, but it can't be stale when we add it. We just missed a full moon, which means we'll have to get it after December ninth. We have at least another eleven days of simmering after that if everything goes perfectly. So the very soonest it could be ready is the twenty-first."
The holidays start the nineteenth . . .
So either we'll be wanting to use it or we'll be needing to tend it.
Ginny frowned. Are we using the potion just as an excuse to avoid Mum?
Well . . . I'm not sure. If we went, things might be better, Harry pointed out. But they might not, too. Last Christmas . . .
Yeah. She sighed. We can't avoid her forever, though. And she did get better towards the end of the hols.
True, Harry said thoughtfully. So do we want to take the chance of something awful happening again just to try for one of those tiny steps your dad keeps talking about?
They could not quite answer that question, but the twins interrupted their musings. "You lot staying?" Fred asked, leaning against the back of Ginny's chair and indicating the letter in her hands. "Could be a once-in-a-lifetime chance to hang around here with permission."
"We'll be here," George said, his eyes alight with glee. "Two weeks in the castle with almost nobody around? Can't pass up an opportunity like that."
"Are you staying here for the holidays, Hermione?" Harry asked.
"Yes, I am," she said, giving him a significant look.
"Reckon we will, too," Ginny said, making their decision after a few moments of silence. "Charlie says they only recently got proper showers there."
Ron shook his head at Fred's raised eyebrow. "No way I'm going if you lot aren't."
The twins grinned. "Excellent," George said. "Christmas at Hogwarts . . ."
"Weasley style." Fred whisked the letter out of Ginny's hands and took it across the room towards Percy.
Well, if nothing else, it'll save a few Galleons not having us along, Ginny said, shrugging.
On Saturday, as was their habit, Harry and Ginny finished their lunches and went to spend some time with Luna. To their surprise, Hermione asked to join them. Ron declined to go along, and he stayed at the table for third helpings of stew and potatoes.
The three of them found Luna waiting in the entrance hall. When they stopped an arm's length away, she said, "Hello, Alex. Hello, Hermione. What shall we do today?"
After a brief discussion, they decided to walk the corridors on the sixth floor. It was mostly deserted on the weekends, and Luna still enjoyed visiting the portraits.
Halfway up the stairs from the ground floor, Hermione stepped forward to walk next to Luna. "Luna," the brunette said, "you've spent quite a lot of time in Africa, haven't you? The deserts and the jungles both?"
"Yes."
Hermione shot Harry and Ginny a significant look. "Did you ever see a boomslang?"
Luna stopped and looked at Hermione closely, a thoughtful furrow in her brow. "Yes. Should that be a secret?"
"Ahh . . . no, of course not. I've read about them, you see, and I was curious."
"Oh." Luna watched Hermione for another moment, and then she shrugged as she resumed their walk. "We had to keep an eye out for them in the trees. It's not terribly difficult for wizards and witches to protect themselves, but we didn't want to startle the boomslangs into attacking other creatures."
Hermione nodded. "Were there a lot of them, then?"
"Yes, they're quite common. There's even one in the forest here, though I have no idea how it got there."
Harry, Ginny, and Hermione all stared at their friend. "There's a boomslang in the Forbidden Forest?" Ginny asked.
"Apparently. Why does that shock you all so much?"
"Well . . . err . . ." Harry floundered for something to say. "It's a bit unusual, isn't it, having an African snake in a forest in Scotland?"
Luna shrugged. "A bit, I suppose. But really, Alex, it's much less odd than many of the other creatures Hagrid's seen in this area."
Ginny and Harry had to agree with that.
"How do you know about it?" Hermione asked. "Has Hagrid seen it?"
"No, he found some skin it shed. It's in the rafters of his cabin."
If Harry and Ginny had been surprised before, they were absolutely stunned at this news. Ginny glanced at Hermione, trying to ask a question with her eyes.
"Could we go and see it?" Hermione asked, missing their look in her excitement. "I've read about boomslangs, but it would be wonderful to see the moulting."
Luna shrugged again. "Well, I certainly don't mind, and I'm sure Hagrid won't, either."
The three Gryffindors separated from Luna so that they could all get their winter cloaks. Once they were out of sight of the Entrance Hall, Ginny leaned over to whisper in Hermione's ear. "Will a shed skin still work for the potion?"
She frowned thoughtfully. "I think so. The skin is hard to get in the first place — at least around here — but it doesn't have to be in perfect condition, and it doesn't require any special preparation. As long as we can shred it, it should work."
"Brilliant," Harry said.
They met Luna back in the Entrance Hall ten minutes later and left the castle. The ground outside was clear of snow, but the damp chill in the air seeped through to Ginny's skin almost instantly.
Luna knocked on Hagrid's door, and he opened it amid Fang's booming barks. "Hello, there!" he shouted. "Come in, come in. Get out o' th' cold."
Within a few minutes, they were comfortably ensconced around Hagrid's table, a fire roaring nearby and mugs of hot tea warming their hands. Hermione wasted no time getting to the point.
"Hagrid, Luna told us that you have a shed boomslang skin."
"Aye, tha' I do. Isn't whole, but it's close. Found it near a nest o' salamanders."
"May we see it?" Hermione asked. "I read that you can measure the scales on a moulting and study the patterns to determine the size and gender of the snake, and I'd love to try that."
"Sure." Hagrid stood up and crossed to the far wall of his cabin. He reached up out of sight and produced a long tube of a brown, brittle material. Laying it on the table, Hagrid returned to his chair.
"There yeh go. Reckon it's a fairly big'un, but tha's just guessin'. I only read up enough to work out which sort it was. Don't go in much for snakes."
Hermione peered closely at the dry, crumbling skin. "I think you're probably right. Boomslangs aren't one of the really big species, but these scales are fairly large. It's probably quite large for its kind."
"If you say so, 'Ermione."
"Do you . . . do you suppose I could have a bit?" Hermione asked hopefully. "I don't remember the patterns to determine the gender, and it would help to be able to have the skin next to the book."
Hagrid shrugged his broad shoulders. "Help yerself. Figured it migh' be handy someday."
Hermione carefully tore out a section of the skin and tucked it into a pocket of her robes. "Thank you very much, Hagrid. That will be really interesting."
The four students chatted with Hagrid for a while, and then they started back towards the castle.
"Is what you're doing dangerous?" Luna asked in a pause in the conversation.
Ginny started. "What?"
"You're doing something that needs boomslang skin. Is it dangerous?"
Harry and Ginny felt a flood of shame for excluding their friend. They saw her so rarely, it seemed, that they had not thought to tell her anything of their plans.
Can't hurt, can it? Ginny asked. We're not supposed to talk about the voice, but this has nothing to do with that.
"Err . . . no," Harry said. "Not really. You see, we're -"
Luna shook her head. "You don't have to tell me. I don't really think I'd like to participate, and it's supposed to be a secret. You can tell me once the story has an ending."
"All right," Ginny said, feeling both relieved and a bit unnerved. "We promise we'll tell you afterwards. And if you change your mind before then, just say so."
"I don't think I will. I'm really quite busy. I would never have guessed that History of Magic could be so challenging."
The next day, when Harry and Ginny arrived in Professor McGonagall's office, they found their Head of House looking especially stern. In a split second, they reviewed their week, but they could not think of anything in particular that they might have done wrong. The Polyjuice Potion simmering in the second-floor toilet was definitely not allowed, but so far no-one seemed to suspect its existence. They belatedly realised, however, that Hagrid could have told Professor McGonagall about the boomslang skin he had given them.
If she's found it . . .
We may end up going to Romania after all. And not coming back, Ginny finished.
"Please, sit," McGonagall said. After pouring tea and passing around a tin of biscuits, she fixed them both with a steady look. "I hope you both know that, in most circumstances, I am happy to entertain questions about schoolwork beyond your current level. I have even taught you spells typically reserved for fourth and fifth years."
Ginny and Harry gulped, but they nodded. Hermione said the Polyjuice was beyond O.W.L. level, didn't she?
"I do not do this to give you any advantage over your classmates. It is not proper for me to place you on unequal footing with them, especially as I would not necessarily teach them these spells even if they asked me to."
They nodded again, mystified.
"However, in this case, I am not sure I can avoid giving you that advantage. It is a matter of safety." McGonagall sighed. "Have you heard of the Disarming Charm?"
Harry and Ginny nearly sagged with relief and let their minds switch topics. "Only by name, Professor," he said. "It . . . well, it disarms people, right?"
"In effect, Harry, yes," McGonagall said. "What it actually does is separate two objects. Most often, it is used to remove someone's wand from their hand, but that is not its only use. Regardless, it is the first truly combative spell we teach to our second-years, and Professor Lockhart should be presenting it to you soon."
"Combative?" Ginny asked. "It's type three, then?"
"Yes, Ginny. And unlike Professor Flitwick's favourite light charm, it can easily be dangerous if misused. I think it is important for the two of you to have some practice with the spell before using it on a fellow student in the classroom. I'm certain you do not wish to harm any of your classmates."
They nodded quickly, regardless of their feelings for Draco Malfoy.
"Well, let us begin, then." McGonagall pointed her wand at the empty end of her office and Conjured a stout pedestal. A small stone appeared atop the pedestal.
"First, a demonstration. Stay quite still, please." The professor flicked her wand sharply at the pedestal and said, "Expelliarmus!" in a loud voice.
The pedestal toppled over, and the stone shot across the office. It struck the wall, where it shattered and left a noticeable scratch on the rock face of the wall.
"That was a reasonably powerful Disarming Charm," McGonagall said. "The pedestal weighs approximately twice as much as one of your classmates, and the stone was much heavier than a wand." With a wave, she righted the pedestal. "As you can see, the stone made a very effective projectile. I was careful to cast the spell so that it flew away from us."
She turned back to face them fully. "You are capable of a much, much stronger spell than that one. You might well have sent the pedestal flying across the room and obliterated the small stone completely. Do you see why this spell is dangerous, especially for you?"
Ginny and Harry nodded, their eyes wide. Simply imagining the heavy stone column colliding with the wall - much less a person - disturbed them on an instinctive level.
"So we will begin with something harmless." The professor made the pedestal much broader, and she Conjured a large ball of yarn. "First, you will learn to cast the spell properly. Then we will practice casting it lightly. Hopefully, our work with the Throw-Dough Conjuration will aid us once again."
After a few repetitions to master the incantation and the wand motion, Harry managed to launch the ball of yarn away from the plinth with such force that it struck him squarely on the forehead and knocked off his glasses.
"Just so," McGonagall said, grinning tightly. "By default, the smaller object will fly towards you and the larger away from you, which is what makes the spell so useful for disarming. By adjusting your intent, you can send it in another direction. Try again."
With a bit of concentration, they were both able to send the ball flying generally away from them rather than directly at them, though they could not truly aim the projectile. Professor McGonagall declared that it was enough that they were able to perform the charm reliably, and she was pleased that they did not disrupt the stone pillar.
"I doubt that Professor Lockhart will introduce this spell this week," she said at the end of an hour, "so we will have next week, at the least, to control your strength more effectively."
As November darkened into December, the castle began to buzz with the excitement of the season's second Quidditch match. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw would be playing, and their rivalry was just as fervent as any other, though less violent than the long-standing feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
Parvati and Lavender invited Hermione and Ginny to join them for the game again. Seeing Ginny's hesitation and grinning slyly, Parvati said that Harry was welcome, too. Ginny accepted for both of them, enjoying Harry's slight discomfort at the idea. Ron shrugged and gave Harry an odd look when he heard about the arrangement.
The four Gryffindor girls, Harry, Susan, and Hannah ended up sitting in a group for the game. Ron, Seamus, and Dean sat nearby, close enough for conversation but far enough away to be separate. Luna and Padma were somewhere amidst the solid block of Ravenclaws at one end of the pitch.
"Suppose we're for Hufflepuff, then," Ginny said in response to Hannah's question. "Bit odd that the Birds are so stuffy about where you sit, isn't it?"
"That's Ravenclaw," Parvati said, pouring hot chocolate out of a thermos for Hermione. "They're stuffy about everything."
I wonder where Percy sits when Ravenclaw plays, Ginny said.
They scanned the crowd, and Harry spotted a shock of distinctive red hair right at the edge of the block of blue-robed students. Someone has to sit there, I suppose.
The game itself was arduous. Hufflepuff's Keeper was good, but Ravenclaw's new Chasers hardly gave him anything to do. The Birds' Keeper was busy enough, but well-aimed Bludgers stymied the Badgers' Chasers more often than not. Above the pitch, the two seventh-year Seekers flew steady searching patterns, but the Snitch remained hidden.
"How is it different for you?" Hermione asked in a low voice as Ravenclaw finally scored.
Harry glanced around. The boys to his right were complaining loudly about the game, and the other girls were talking and giggling amongst themselves.
"What d'you mean?" Ginny asked.
"Playing Quidditch. You always say that Harry's a better Seeker than you are because he's better at finding the Snitch. But surely that's not all. You're both really good fliers, and you should be faster on a broom, Ginny. So why doesn't that sort of . . . balance you out?"
Ginny shrugged. "For one thing, he likes that kind of flying a bit better than I do. I like to twist and turn . . . he likes to dive and fly as fast as he can get away with."
"That's not all of it, either, though," Harry said, unwilling to let Ginny sell herself short. "She turns faster than I do, which is really good, and she doesn't need glasses."
"Does that matter?" Hermione asked, openly curious.
"'Course it does. During the final last year, she saw the Snitch when it was way off to her left. I wouldn't have been able to see it at all without turning my head, so it would have taken me a little longer to spot it."
"Oh, I see," the brunette said. "Your glasses don't cover your peripheral vision. Why don't you get contacts?"
"Err . . ." Harry trailed off and shrugged. "I never had the chance. I wouldn't even know where to go to get them. I've had these glasses since I was five."
"There are loads of places you can go, Harry," Hermione said. "There might be an optometrist in Ottery St. Catchpole, even. Of course, wizards probably have a better way than contacts."
Ginny shook her head. "I've never heard of it. Dad and Percy have always worn glasses."
"There must be something," Hermione said, looking vaguely affronted. "If we can have silly things like Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, surely there's a magical way to correct nearsightedness."
"I like Drooble's," Harry said.
"That's not the point. You should at least get contacts, Harry. Then you'd have good peripheral vision, too."
The idea intrigued Harry and Ginny. Anything that helped them in Quidditch was worth considering, but living at Hogwarts limited their choices. "Yeah, maybe I will," Harry said. "I can't see any way to do it this year, though. Remind us for the summer holidays."
"I will," Hermione said.
Finally, after nearly three hours, Ravenclaw's Seeker caught the Snitch, ending the game at 180-50. None of the Gryffindors had ever been truly in favour of one team or the other, but Hermione, Ginny, and Parvati consoled Hannah and Susan as they all hurried up to the castle for a late lunch. Ginny spotted Luna and Padma with the rest of the Ravenclaws, and she gave them a quick congratulatory wave when the Hufflepuff girls were not looking. Luna did not seem to notice, but Padma smiled briefly in reply.
"It doesn't matter for us," Ron confirmed to Harry as they sat down in the Great Hall. "We're competing with Slytherin in the end, and the Snakes'll flatten them both."
Oh, well spotted, Ron, Ginny said, rolling her eyes.
When Professor McGonagall asked for the names of students who wanted to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas holiday, Harry, Hermione, and all of the Weasleys signed up. Scanning the list, they were pleased to see that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had already given their names, too. They thought that the holidays might provide a perfect opportunity to try the Polyjuice Potion.
Later the same day, Hermione gathered Ron, Ginny, and Harry in the second-floor toilet. "We need to add the boomslang skin now," she said, carefully stirring the potion anti-clockwise and staring at her Potion Plan.
"So what do we do?" Harry asked.
"Shred it into strips exactly the same width as the scales. Each one should end up looking like a single column of scales, all the same width. We can each shred a bit and then use only the best strips."
They all pulled out their Potions kits, which they had taken to carrying with them on most days. Hermione passed around sections of boomslang skin, and they all set to work.
"Here's an idea," Ron said a few minutes later after ruining his second portion of skin. "Why don't we just nick the whole potion?"
"What?" Hermione asked, her hands freezing in mid-cut.
"Snape brews all kinds of potions in the evenings. I've seen him at it during detentions. If he's got it already brewed, we could take some and skip all this."
Hermione looked a bit hurt, but she seemed to consider the idea. "Well . . . it would save time."
"Maybe we could talk to Malfoy sooner," Harry said. "Find out if he's the Heir."
Ginny nodded. "We might be able to keep anyone else from getting attacked between now and Christmas."
"And we could be sure of getting a proper potion," Hermione said. "I think we're doing quite well here, but I'd rather be sure of the finished product."
Ron tossed his penknife back into his kit. "Right, then. Enough of this."
"No, Ron," Hermione said. "We don't know for sure that he has any Polyjuice Potion, so we need to keep working on ours."
"Where would he keep it, do you think?" Ginny asked.
"His office, I assume. That's not the sort of thing you leave lying around in a classroom."
Harry and Ginny were already thinking of ways for one of them to get into the office undetected, find and collect the potion, and Shift out.
Invisibility Cloak, definitely, Ginny said.
Maybe during dinner, so we know he won't be around?
"Stop that," Hermione said sharply.
Ginny blinked. "What?"
"You're plotting how to steal the potion. But you're not going to do it. I am."
"What?" Harry echoed, feeling a bit stupid.
Hermione gave a sharp sigh. "Do you know what Polyjuice Potion looks like if it's not labelled? Do you know exactly how much we need for this and how to measure it out without contaminating it?"
"Err . . ."
"Right. So I'm doing it. I've already looked up everything I need to know. Besides, if I'm caught, he won't be as hard on me. I've got a clean record."
Like that will stop him.
"How're you going to get in there, though?" Ron asked. "You can't just walk into his office and nick whatever you like."
Hermione turned to Harry and Ginny. "That's where you two come in. You're going to distract Snape during class so that I can get into his office." At Ron's affronted look, she rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you could do it, Ron, but you've had quite enough detentions already."
The red-haired boy snapped his mouth shut, nodding. "I'd do it anyway, though."
"Of course you would," Ginny said, hoping to avoid an argument. "But we can manage this time."
Hermione gathered the shredded boomslang skin and carefully sealed it in a vial. "That's enough for today, then," she said. "We'll try to steal the Potion on Thursday. The double lesson should give you plenty of time to cause a distraction."
Though Hermione knew exactly what they needed and how to identify it, she seemed content to leave Harry and Ginny to invent their own distraction. Ron suggested tossing a firework into someone's potion, and he gave them one of his to use. Harry tucked it into his pocket and thanked Ron, but he and Ginny had a nagging feeling that they would rather do something different.
When the double Potions lesson finally arrived, Ginny and Harry had a tentative plan in mind. For most of the lesson, they focused diligently on their Swelling Solutions. When it was almost time for lunch, Harry gave Hermione a tiny nod, lifted his wand inside his sleeve, and took careful aim.
You're sure we like Ron enough to do this? he asked.
Ginny grinned but kept her face down. Barely. I'll do it if you'd rather.
Nah. Here goes.
"Expelliarmus," he said, barely breathing the word.
A red light shot across the dungeon and impacted Malfoy's cauldron. The heavy pewter vessel flew off of the table, almost directly away from Harry, and struck the stone wall with a metallic clang! Malfoy's Swelling Solution splattered across the room, leaving sickly puce spots on the students' robes, faces, and hands. Immediately, the body parts struck by the Solution began to expand, ballooning to several times their normal size. Malfoy's forehead bulged hugely above his eyes, Crabbe developed a truly stupendous set of ears, and Pansy Parkinson's pug-like nose rapidly grew larger than her hand.
Worse, however, was the cauldron itself. After striking the wall and disgorging most of its contents, it ricocheted across the room and landed on a small terrarium housing live earthworms. The terrarium shattered with the impact, and the remaining Swelling Solution seeped into the damp soil. Dozens of earthworms squirmed in the liquid, and within seconds they had each grown to more than two feet long.
The giant, sightless worms writhed frantically, quickly spreading to occupy the open floor space at the front of the room. Several girls — most sporting enlarged chins or fingers or eyelids - screamed and leapt onto their desks, snatching their bags off of the floor. Millicent Bulstrode had caught the potion on her mouth, making her lips grow enormously, but she was frightened enough of the worms that she leapt into her chair anyway. Ginny thought she was trying to scream, but her lips were pressed closed by their sheer size, and all that emerged was a sort of agonised raspberry.
Harry, Ginny, and Ron sat at the back of the class, so they avoided the Solution entirely, but they clambered up onto their desks anyway.
Merlin . . . Harry said, struggling to contain a grin at the pandemonium.
Couldn't have asked for better, eh? Ginny asked, eyeing the nearest earthworm warily.
Professor Snape's cold voice snapped at the front of the room as he attempted to calm the students, shrink their body parts, and avoid tripping over the giant earthworms. Once, unbalanced by a flailing, giant-sized forearm, he stepped on one of the huge invertebrates, and slimy worm intestines sprayed across the dungeon, causing the students to scream again.
From the corner of his eye, Harry saw the door to the classroom open, and Hermione slipped in through the gap. Harry had not even noticed her leaving, but he waved her back towards her desk frantically. "Get up!" he whispered as she passed.
Hermione scrambled onto her desk, and her eyes widened as she took in the scene. Professor Snape was holding a vial of Deflating Draught in front of him, and his wand rested across the top of the glass container. Moving briskly and avoiding the worms on the floor, he aimed at each student, and a mist sprayed out from the end of his wand. The aerated Draught caused the students' body parts to return to normal instantly. When he finished with the students, he turned his attention to the worms, spraying them and then moving them into a nearby bucket with sharp flicks of his wand.
Many of the students were still shouting and even crying about the worm guts splattered on their skin and clothes. Snape began using Scouring Charms on the worst affected, leaving them clean and pink-skinned from the rough scrubbing. Before he could finish, the bell for lunch sounded, and Harry darted out of the dungeon with the other unaffected students close on his heels.
Once away from the Potions classroom, Harry broke into a run and led Ron, Ginny, and Hermione directly to Gryffindor tower. There, Harry and the two Weasleys collapsed at a table in gales of laughter. Hermione stood over them, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Honestly! I asked for a distraction, not a catastrophe!"
"Oh!" Ron said, gasping for air. "You should've seen it, Hermione. Malfoy's face . . . when his head started to swell . . . priceless! Priceless!"
Ginny subsided into a fit of spastic giggles, and she grinned up at the taller girl. "Come on, Hermione. It was funny. You know it was. Did you see Parkinson?"
Slowly, the corners of Hermione's mouth turned up into a controlled smile. "How did you manage to get the earthworms into it?"
"No idea," Harry said. "Pure luck."
Ron waved his hands fervently. "No, no," he said. "Genius. Pure genius."
"And the best part is, we got away with it," Ginny said. "We couldn't have planned that better if we'd tried."
Hermione sighed. "I'm going to pretend that you did plan it."
Harry forced his face into a serious, thoughtful expression. "Oh, we did, of course. Start to finish." He burst into laughter again.
"Well, I hate to spoil the moment, but I couldn't find the Potion," Hermione said. "As it turns out, he does have everything labelled, and it's all alphabetised. There are two locked cupboards, but I didn't dare try to open them. He would surely have protected them against Alohomora."
Harry, Ron, and Ginny all sobered at this news. "Damn," Ron said.
Ginny sighed. "Guess it's back to the brewing."
The four friends went to lunch, and in spite of the complete failure of Hermione's mission, Harry and Ginny were elated that they had escaped the dungeon before Snape could fully settle the class and look for the source of the disturbance. All through the meal, the dour professor glared at the Gryffindor table, his face a rictus of anger. Harry and Ginny kept their heads carefully down, even though they could hear the story spreading around the Great Hall. They did not want to do anything that might ruin their good fortune.
Their happiness lasted through the weekend, but as they walked to their weekly meeting with Professor McGonagall, Harry had a horrible thought.
What if she works it out? he asked, stopping in the hallway. What if Snape tells her what happened, and she realises what spell we used on the cauldron?
Oh, Merlin, Ginny said. She'd skin us.
Do you think she knows?
Ginny took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before tugging Harry into motion. There's only one way to find out.
McGonagall greeted them warmly, but once they were all seated with cups of hot tea, the tall woman gave a sharp sigh.
"What's wrong, Professor?" Ginny asked, struggling to keep her face neutral.
"I am not sure what to do today," McGonagall said, "and . . ." She sighed again.
Professor McGonagall almost never showed any sort of hesitation, and Harry and Ginny found themselves getting more nervous by the second.
"Harry, Ginny," the older witch said, "I will be candid. I told you several weeks ago that Professor Lockhart would soon be teaching you the Disarming Charm. He should have done that by now. That he has not is . . . inexplicably negligent."
Harry blinked in surprise. McGonagall never criticised other professors. He and Ginny decided not to voice their opinion of Lockhart at that moment, even though they were not very surprised at his 'negligence.' Professor McGonagall seemed to have him figured out, in any case.
The professor looked down into her teacup and swirled its contents. "Given that he has not presented the spell, I am not sure we should continue practicing it. You are already quite good at it. Better than any second-year should be before a formal lesson."
Ginny leaned her head forward, letting her hair fall around her face to hide her pink cheeks. Being praised for a skill they had recently misused was very uncomfortable.
"If you had been taught the spell in class, I would have no problem helping you to master it further. I would offer the same assistance to any student who asked without malicious intent. But I do not think it fair to give you any more advantage over your classmates than you already have. So I am not sure what we should do."
The three of them were quiet for a few seconds, and Harry and Ginny realised that their professor had said what she wanted to say. With a silent sigh of relief, they pulled their thoughts away from their misdeeds and focused on the dilemma at hand.
"Well . . ." Harry said. "Err . . . would it be terribly unusual for someone to have learned the spell outside of class?"
"Maybe at home, from seeing someone else do it?" Ginny added, thinking of her parents and brothers.
McGonagall pursed her lips. "No, I suppose not. There are certainly many spells that are not taught at Hogwarts, as we discussed last year, and witches and wizards inevitably learn those spells elsewhere."
Harry nodded. "So if we know the spell already, and we want to practice it on our own, that's got nothing to do with you, does it?"
"No, it does not," the professor said, her lips quirking slightly.
"What if we just cast it for our own reasons, then, and you keep a close watch to make sure we're not going to hurt ourselves?" Ginny asked. "That's not teaching. It's just . . . err . . . being a responsible grown-up."
McGonagall chuckled. "You have quite a talent with words, Ginny."
Ginny blushed again, and she could not contain her smile.
"Very well," McGonagall said. "If you two would like to practice the spell in my presence, I will not object."
Harry and Ginny got to their feet. "Professor . . ." Ginny said, "in terms of, you know, safety . . . do you think we'd be okay casting the spell on each other? We think that might be the next thing to try."
Professor McGonagall considered for a moment and then nodded. "I think that would be safe enough, provided there is a 'responsible grown-up' nearby to keep watch on you. I'm sure you will be well-motivated to be careful."
They spent the rest of the hour casting the Disarming Charm on each other, making sure to use the very weakest spells they could manage. At first, they consistently knocked each other into the padded walls or onto the floor. As the hour progressed, however, they learned to cast the spell lightly enough to stay upright as their wands flew away from them. Nevertheless, their wand hands quickly became sore from the constant, wrenching disarmings.
Throughout the session, Professor McGonagall sat in her chair, sipping tea and holding a copy of Transfiguration Today. For the most part, she did not speak, but she occasionally cautioned them to be more careful in their casting. Harry and Ginny left the office feeling very pleased with themselves and with Professor McGonagall, and they silently vowed not to misuse her instruction again if at all possible. Still, they could not bring themselves to fully regret hexing Malfoy's cauldron. The memory of the blond boy's swollen face and girlish screams was much too joyful.
The next Potions lesson showed that their happiness had been very short-sighted. As soon as Harry sat down, Snape strode across the dungeon and stopped in front of them. "Mr. Potter," he said in a quiet, deadly voice. "Thirty points from Gryffindor for sitting at this particular table. And detention tonight at six o'clock, here, for being an arrogant, self-centred child."
The professor leaned down until his face was inches away from Harry's. "And believe me," he whispered, "if I could prove exactly who disturbed my class last week, you would already have been expelled. If anything like that happens again, you will not escape the proper punishment."
Harry swallowed in spite of himself, but he did not speak or acknowledge Snape's threat. After a few moments, the professor strode back to the front of the classroom and set them to work copying down the properties of shrivelfig.
Well, we did sort of want him to figure it out, Harry said.
Ginny nodded in their minds. Didn't plan for it to be quite that spectacular, though, no matter how funny it was.
And we should have known he wouldn't let it go just because class ended. He sighed. Oh well. We had four days of thinking we'd got away with it.
Sorry, Harry, Ginny said, squeezing his hand under the table. I should've done it. He might've gone easier on me.
Harry suppressed a snort. I doubt it. You get to tell Wood I'm missing practice, though.
Fair enough.
At the end of the lesson, Snape cleared the chalkboard and scowled at the students. "Those of you who did not produce a passable Swelling Solution last week will write an essay detailing the proper uses of shrivelfig. You will also include references to experimental potions, what they sought to accomplish, and why they failed. The essay will be at least three feet long, and you will turn it in at the beginning of our next lesson.
"Malfoy, Davis, Bulstrode, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Greengrass, Parkinson, and Zabini. Your Solutions were acceptable. The rest of you will write the essay. Class dismissed."
"That git!" Ginny growled on the way back to Gryffindor tower. "There's no way that every single Slytherin got that potion right, and yours was perfect, Hermione!"
Hermione shrugged. "Well, he doesn't know it, but I probably should have to do a bit of extra work after breaking into his office."
"That's not the point," Ron said. "He's being completely unfair."
"It won't hurt us to do the essay, Ron," Hermione said.
After dropping their book bags in a corner of the common room, Harry and Ginny went right back down to the Great Hall so that he would have time for dinner before his detention. They were alone in an empty stretch of the Gryffindor table, which made for a pleasant change. Shortly before six o'clock, however, the twins strode up the aisle and dropped into the seats on either side of Harry and Ginny.
"Heard you took the blame for that little accident in your Potions class, Harry," Fred said.
Ginny looked up, and George nodded. "Oh yeah, we heard about that. We have our sources, you see."
"Apparently, it was a beautiful bit of work. Exploding cauldrons . . ."
". . . big-headed Slytherins . . ."
". . . and giant worms."
"Just our style," the two boys said together.
"Now, obviously we don't think Snape is right to blame you, Harry," George said.
Fred winked. "But if he were, we'd be right proud. So if you happen to know who caused all that, tell him . . ."
"- and/or her —"
". . . that we approve."
Harry snorted. "Yeah, I'll pass along the message if I find the culprit."
"Good lad." Fred clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Bout time for practice. Coming, Gin-gin?"
"Don't call me that," Ginny said, scowling as she pushed up from the table. "I've got to change first."
Harry picked at his Shepherd's Pie while Ginny climbed back up to the tower. The twins veered off in the Entrance Hall, heading for the pitch. When she reached her room, Ginny found Lavender and Parvati on their way out.
"Tell Harry thanks, Ginny," Parvati said, frowning. "We really needed another essay."
"Hey, you don't know it was him!" Ginny said, barely restraining herself from saying 'us'.
"Snape practically told us it was him."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "And you believe that old git? You know he'll blame Harry for anything he can."
"Who did do it, then?" Lavender asked.
"I don't know," Ginny said, turning away from them to snatch up her jeans and a jumper.
Parvati sighed. "Whatever. Snape gave the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs that essay, too, so I suppose it isn't really Harry's fault. Anyway, we're all going to meet in the library tonight to work on it together. That's the only way we're going to get it done by Thursday. You can come if you want."
Ginny's annoyance faded, and she summoned a small smile. "Thanks, but I have practice. I'll have to do it tomorrow night."
It's going to be loads of fun doing two of those in one night, Harry said, stabbing at a potato. Miserable plonker.
The two girls left, and Ginny went into the bathroom to change out of her uniform. A few minutes later, as Ron and Hermione joined Harry at the Gryffindor table, she ran out to the pitch in her Quidditch robes.
"You should go, Harry," Hermione said as soon as she sat down. "Professor Snape will be even worse if you're late."
"Let him go at his own pace, Hermione," Ron said. "I'm telling you, it's impossible to keep Snape from being as bad as he can possibly be."
Sighing, Harry left the Great Hall. As much as he hated the idea of spending one extra second with Snape, Hermione was right.
Ginny arrived at the pitch, and a scowling Oliver sent her straight into the air after the Snitch. With a small wave at the twins, Ginny mounted the Nimbus and left the ground. Good luck, Harry, she said. I wish I could do it for you.
Thanks, but we'd still be doing it, one way or the other, Harry said.
He arrived at the door to the Potions classroom two minutes early and knocked. "Enter," Snape said from within.
Harry walked in and found Snape tending several cauldrons, which were arrayed neatly on top of his large, wooden desk. Small fires burned under each one, and the contents bubbled and hissed and crackled in different ways. Multicoloured fumes filled the air, and Harry thought one of the scents was familiar. As he stepped further into the room, he recognised the purple hue of a Dreamless Sleep potion. He had smelled and drank enough of that to recognise it easily.
I don't suppose one of the others is Polyjuice, is it? Ginny asked.
Don't think so, Harry said. Hermione said ours is just starting to turn the right shade of green, remember? None of these is even close to green.
Professor Snape instructed Harry to leave his bag and wand by the door and then to sit at a table in front of the professor's desk. At one end was the metal bucket full of earthworms and soil. On the other was the repaired terrarium. The middle of the table was filled by a broad, shallow tray full of water.
"Whoever disturbed these earthworms last week caused them to get filthy," Snape said, a tight smile forming on his thin lips. "You are going to clean them so that they are once again fit to be used as ingredients. However, since they got dirty while enlarged, they must be cleaned while enlarged."
Harry's task was to sprinkle each earthworm with a bit of Swelling Solution so that it grew to at least thirty inches long. Then he had to clean it with his bare hands in the pan of water, because Snape said that the worms' skin was too delicate for spells or cloths. When each huge earthworm was completely clean, Harry was to dab it with Deflating Draught and put it in the terrarium. Harry thought there had only been a few dozen earthworms in the terrarium the previous week, but there were at least a hundred in the bucket on his left.
So, basically, I clean the dirt off the worms and then stick them in the other dirt.
I take it all back, Ginny said. I'm glad you're doing that. Yuck!
Gee, thanks, Harry said dryly. Fair weather friend, are we?
Of course not. I'm a fair, slime-free friend. She grinned in mid-air. You love me, though.
Harry ducked his head to hide his smile and dribbled Swelling Solution on the first earthworm. Maybe.
As detentions went, cleaning the worms was thoroughly disgusting, but it did not demand much of Harry's attention. He and Ginny were able to search for the Snitch and clean invertebrates at the same time without drawing suspicion from either Wood or Snape. Occasionally, one of the huge worms would object to being cleaned, which often forced Harry to pry the slimy thing off of his arm or shoulder. Aside from that, however, the task went slowly and steadily.
Oliver called practice to a halt twenty minutes after the sky grew completely dark. There was no guarantee, he said, that a Hogwarts game would not run into the night, so it would not hurt them to have at least a bit of practice playing in the dark. The whole team groaned at the thought, but no one said anything aloud.
Ginny climbed back up to the common room, where she found Hermione curled up in an armchair with her Charms book. "Thought you were in the library with the rest?" she asked.
"Most of us have finished, or at least nearly so. Ron's still down there," Hermione said. "You've been outside nearly three hours, and having so many people fetching books really sped things up."
Ginny groaned and dropped into another chair. "Figures. For once, Snape's homework was a bit easier, but we're going to have to do it the hard way."
At that moment, Colin Creevey approached Ginny at his usual half-scurry. "Hi, Ginny!" he said.
"Hello, Colin."
"Err . . . is it true that Harry's got detention with Professor Snape tonight?"
Ginny blinked, and Harry stifled another groan. "Yeah. Where'd you hear that?"
"Your brothers."
Figures.
Colin smiled. "Well, maybe I'll see him after. Thanks!" He darted away again before Ginny could reply.
"What's Harry doing, anyway?" Hermione asked in a whisper.
Ginny grimaced. "Trust me, Hermione. You don't want to know. You really don't want to know."
The older girl smiled in a grimly compassionate sort of way. "Do you suppose you'll be at it much longer?"
Harry peered down at the bucket. He had cleaned perhaps two-thirds of the worms.
"Yeah, a while yet," Ginny said. "Hour or so, maybe."
Hermione nodded to herself. "Well then, look here." She pointed to a stack of books at her feet. "These books are enough for you to write your essays. I've marked some of the pages about shrivelfig with strips of parchment. Don't use anything that isn't marked, because then your essay might look too much like someone else's."
"Hermione!" Ginny said in a breathless gasp.
"I'm not helping you or writing it for you," Hermione said quickly. "I'm only giving you what the rest of us had."
Ginny threw herself out of her chair and leaned down to hug her friend tightly. "You're the best, Hermione. Absolutely the best." She lowered her voice to the barest whisper. "Harry says thanks loads. Maybe we'll get to sleep tonight."
Hermione's cheeks were a bit pink as Ginny pulled away, but the bushy-haired girl smiled warmly. "You're welcome. Best get started."
Nodding, Ginny picked up the books and carried them to a small, empty table. Her body was tired from the long Quidditch practice, and Harry was in a near stupor from the warmth and swirling vapours in the dungeon, but they were determined not to waste Hermione's help. Ginny pulled out a sheet of parchment, opened the first of the books, and began to read.
As Harry cleansed earthworms mechanically, Ginny sorted through the books and roughly outlined two essays that were sufficiently different. By ten-thirty, their minds were completely engrossed in writing the essay in her handwriting. Harry reached into the bucket for another worm and suddenly realised that there were none.
Distracted from the essay, Harry peered into the bucket, scarcely believing that he had cleaned all of the earthworms. It was truly empty, though, and the terrarium on his right was teeming with earthworms happily tunnelling through fresh soil.
"Err . . . Professor," Harry said. "I'm finished."
Snape rose from his desk and examined the bucket and then the terrarium. Scowling, he waved his wand, and the bucket and tray disappeared. "Off with you, then."
Without waiting for any further encouragement, Harry picked up his things and darted out of the dungeon. When he reached the stairs to the Entrance Hall, he heard hushed voices ahead. He did not recognise the voices immediately, but there was no other route out of the dungeons that he knew of.
Suppose I'm allowed to be out, right?
Have to be.
He climbed the last of the steps and froze at the threshold of the Entrance Hall. Professors McGonagall and Vector stood shoulder to shoulder, facing him. Their faces were grim, and each witch had her wand pointed directly at his chest.
"Potter!" McGonagall snapped, lowering her wand. "What are you doing out at this hour?"
"Err . . . I had detention, Professor," he said, watching nervously as Professor Vector lowered her wand as well. "With Professor Snape. I've only just finished."
"I see," McGonagall said. Her posture relaxed, but the serious lines of her face did not soften.
When she moved slightly, Harry could see a long, low shape floating in the air behind the two professors. A glint of glass caught his eye, and Harry realised that he was looking at Colin Creevey, hovering flat on his back and holding his camera to his face. The younger boy did not move at all.
"What . . . what happened?" Harry asked.
Professor McGonagall sighed. "He has been Petrified, Mr. Potter. The same as Mrs. Norris."
Ginny gasped, and her quill fell onto her half-finished essay. Harry gaped at his Head of House. "P-petrified?" he stammered.
"Yes. We just found him like this in the dungeon corridor."
Oh, no, Ginny said, aghast. He probably wanted a picture, and I told him where you were.
Harry looked up at McGonagall, stricken. He could not speak freely in front of Professor Vector, but he tried to convey as much as he could wordlessly. She opened her mouth again, but she was interrupted.
"Hello?" A rosy-cheeked, black-haired girl wearing Hufflepuff robes and a prefect's badge entered the hall from the other side. "Who's-? Oh. Good evening, Professors." She caught sight of Colin and squeaked loudly, raising her hands to cover her mouth. "Oh my goodness," she said in a muffled voice.
"Miss Nicholls," McGonagall said with a sharp nod.
"What happened?" the girl asked, her eyes darting from Colin to Harry to McGonagall, over and over.
"We have not yet determined that." The tall witch turned to her shorter colleague. "Professor Vector, if you would be so kind, please take Mr. Creevey to the hospital wing." Vector nodded. "Miss Nicholls, you will assist her. I will escort Mr. Potter back to his common room safely, and then I will notify the headmaster."
Professor Vector pointed her wand at Colin, and his stiff body floated away towards the hospital wing. "This way, Miss Nicholls," she said. The Hufflepuff girl started, but she lowered her hands and followed the professor with an expression of frightened determination.
McGonagall glanced around the Entrance Hall, but she did not speak. Harry and Ginny, still stunned by the attack on Colin, were also silent. When the sound of the two witches' footsteps had faded into nothingness, Professor McGonagall knelt and spoke in a whisper. "What is it, Harry?"
"We . . . I mean, Ginny . . . He wanted a photo, Professor," Harry said.
"A photo?"
Harry took a deep, steadying breath and nodded. "Of me. Been after me about it all year. He asked Ginny where I was, and she told him. We think that maybe he was in the dungeons to wait for me to come out of the Potions classroom."
Ginny was still staring sightlessly at the parchment in front of her. He was probably lurking somewhere with his camera ready, she said, horrified. Figured if he surprised you with the picture, you'd let him keep it.
I did tell him I might do it when nobody else was around.
And he must've known the corridors would be empty at this hour. She dropped her head onto her arms. Poor Colin.
Harry nodded. "Yeah . . . that's got to be it."
"It fits, and I certainly don't have any other explanations," McGonagall said. She laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed. "Harry, did you and Ginny hear the voice again?"
"No," he said, shocked that they had not thought of that already. "No, we didn't."
"Are you sure?"
He nodded again. "I'm sure. We could've missed it, I guess. We weren't paying a lot of attention."
"All right, Harry. Come along. Let's get you back to the tower." McGonagall's voice was sad and tired, and Ginny thought that they had never heard her sound so distressed.
"We're sorry, Professor," Harry said. "If we hadn't told him . . ."
The tall woman stood and led him to the stairs, her hand still on his shoulder. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry. You said he's been pursuing you for months. You can't possibly control that."
Ginny and Harry were not convinced, but they let the conversation drop. A few minutes later, Harry and the professor reached the portrait hole. To his surprise, McGonagall gave the password herself and stepped in ahead of him.
The common room became silent and still as Professor McGonagall entered. Ginny lifted her head from her arms at last, and she and Harry found every remaining Gryffindor staring at their Head of House. Even the twins were watching McGonagall with wary expressions.
"Mr. Weasley, Miss Fisher," McGonagall called, nodding to Percy and his female counterpart. "Please fetch the first-years. Wake them if you must."
The two prefects leapt up from their tables and ran up the staircases. For several long minutes, no one spoke in the common room. Harry moved to one side of the portrait hole and met Ginny half-way to her table. Hands tightly clasped, they watched Professor McGonagall with the rest of their house.
Julia Fisher led three girls into the common room, all wearing dressing gowns. After another minute or two, Percy appeared with five boys, but he looked agitated. "Professor McGonagall," he began, "I'm very sorry, but I am unable to locate . . ."
McGonagall raised her hand, and Percy fell silent. "These will do, Mr. Weasley. Thank you." She took a deep breath and swept her eyes across the assembled Gryffindors. "A short while ago, Colin Creevey was attacked in the same manner as Mrs. Norris. He has been Petrified."
Gasps echoed around the room, followed by a babble of frightened whispers. The professor waited while some of the noise subsided, and then she spoke again in the same strong, clear voice. "Mr. Creevey is in the hospital wing now, and he will remain there until the appropriate restorative is available. We are confident that he will make a full recovery.
"I would remind you all that the school's curfew exists for your protection. Wandering the corridors after hours, especially now, simply is not wise. I expect you all to abide by the restrictions in place and to follow any new rules we may implement in the coming days and weeks."
McGonagall nodded to the room at large. "If there is anything else you need to know, I will tell you. Goodnight."
She turned around and left the tower without another word or even a glance in Harry and Ginny's direction.
Suppose she has to go find Dumbledore, Harry muttered in their minds.
The Gryffindors' voices rose in a confused babble, and the first-year girls collapsed into tears and histrionics. Julia Fisher set about comforting them as she herded them back to their dormitory. Seconds after they left, the remaining students started staring at Harry. "What happened, Harry?" Seamus called.
Knowing he could not avoid the question, Harry spoke into the renewed quiet. "Just what she said. I was on my way back from detention, and I met her in the corridor. Colin was already Petrified. Honestly, that's all I know." The murmur of voices started again. "I'm . . . err . . . going to go to bed," he said to no one in particular.
Meet you there, he told Ginny, squeezing her hand before he released it.
He climbed up to his dormitory, and Ron caught up with him at the door. Hermione was waiting for Ginny at the base of the girls' staircase, and a few moments later the four of them were ensconced in their rooms. Harry and Ginny tried telling Ron and Hermione what they had seen and what they suspected, but they found it extremely frustrating to tell the same story twice at the same time and to get two different sets of questions in response.
In the end, Ginny begged off from finishing the conversation with Hermione, saying she was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. Hermione promised to keep the other girls away from Ginny's four-poster, and Ginny took a few minutes to change into her oversized t-shirt and prepare for bed. Then, clutching her pillow and her wand, she Shifted to her side of Harry's bed.
Ron had been much easier to get rid of, as he had fewer questions, and Harry was already alone with the curtains sealed and Bun-bun waiting. He and Ginny lay down together with her head on his shoulder, her arm tucked inside his shirt, and her leg draped across his body.
Poor Colin, Ginny said again.
Wish I'd just let him take the photo in September.
We couldn't have known. McGonagall's right about that.
Wouldn't have been so hard, though, Harry said, sighing softly. He was getting almost tolerable lately.
She smiled sadly against his chest. That picture of Malfoy was brilliant.
Yeah. They were quiet and still for a few moments. Reckon he'll be all right?
I'm sure he will. Dumbledore and McGonagall would never lie about that.
True. Harry let out a long, slow breath and forced his eyes closed.
On that night it seemed pointless and uncomfortable to say goodnight. Instead, Harry tightened his arm around Ginny's back, and she inched closer to him. A long while later, they fell asleep together.