Chapter 17, everybody! In which Harry visits the Hospital Wing again….
FaolenBookWolf, thanks for the review! I didn't know I needed that either, but I love it. :D And I can guarantee mayhem with these new Weasleys. :D
Harry Potter © JK Rowling
The following days saw more progress on the missing shoes case than the Chamber of Secrets—Harry was honestly starting to entertain the notion that it had been an elaborate and ill-intentioned Halloween prank, brought it up to Ron one day.
"Definite emphasis on ill-intentioned," Ron said after some thought, happy for the distraction from their History of Magic essays (which left Harry seriously wondering why wizards and goblins even bothered with each other). "From what I've heard from my brothers, Halloween pranks are generally like Fred and George blowing up a toilet or-or this one time where someone turned the fourth floor into lava—not real lava, you know, but like, made it look like it. This is a bit too mean for me to buy that."
That was a fair point, Harry supposed, even if the use of magic did seem to okay some nasty things—it was easy to hex someone into being covered from head to toe in boils if a countercurse made it go away in a heartbeat.
Hermione was still in the library come Saturday, so Harry and Ron helped Luna's team—hunt for her shoes, not the heir.
"It could be gnargles," Luna said, peering up at a statue and then at its feet. "They tend to be mischievous."
"I've decided I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures next year," Neville said. "There's an awful lot of them I've never heard of."
Speaking of magical creatures, Harry asked Snips for help while Neville explained to Colin that you could take extra classes starting third year and drop some core classes if you wanted to come sixth year. Snips looked around, up at the rafters before looking at him and shrugging.
"So I guess Snips isn't a shoe-finder," Ron said, as Snips took to the air and started circling around them.
"Isn't there a spell or something that could do this?" Harry wondered. "I feel like there should be a finding-things spell."
"Hermione would know."
"Wouldn't one of the teachers know too?" Ginny asked.
"I think Professor Flitwick is in his office," Luna said.
Professor Flitwick was, and after asking their question and explaining that they were looking because of Luna's missing shoes (and then explaining what gnargles were), Professor Flitwick went over the Summoning Charm with them.
"I don't usually teach this to students until fourth year," he told them. "Because it's very important you get the enunciation right."
This was made clear when Neville accidentally summoned the futon and had to have it levitated off of him. Harry almost had the spell by dinner, though, and Professor Flitwick invited them back the next day to try again, promising extra credit and points if they could get it.
"We'll go over some basic security charms as well," he added, looking at Luna. "As that should help narrow down the culprits who have been stealing your shoes. Speaking of—accio Miss Lovegood's shoes!"
Neville once again found himself buried under several summoned items.
It took most of the rest of the week to master the summoning charm. Harry was among the last, mostly because all of his free time was spent on the Quidditch field practicing until he could hardly stand.
"I have it on good authority that Slytherin's banking on us to be too exhausted to play," Fred said after practice one day.
"Did Donald bet against his own family?" George asked.
"The scum," Fred confirmed. "So I doubled the bet that we'd win."
"I'm sure our Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw brothers are getting in on it."
"No doubt."
"What are they talking about?" Katie asked.
"Unless the answer involves finding a bed to collapse in, I don't care," Angelina said, half-asleep against her.
On the positive side, Harry slept soundly the night before the game, if for no other reason that he didn't have any choice in the matter.
On the negative side, the game itself quickly took a problematic turn when it became clear that one of the bludgers was hexed to go after Harry specifically. There was a heated debate during a time-out on if the Slytherins had hexed it, and how—Fred was pretty sure not even Donald would stoop that low, Katie questioned who could have done it, and Wood pointed out that the only person to have handled the balls was Madame Hooch, no one else could have gotten to them.
"Look," Harry said finally. "At this rate the only way I'll catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve—leave me to deal with the bludger, okay?"
No one was okay with this, but it was either that or forfeit to Slytherin—hence why they were all airborne moments later with Harry having to dodge the bludger that did eventually succeed in breaking his arm.
On the bright side, snatching the snitch right from above Malfoy's head was worth it. Even if he didn't quite remember landing.
When he came to, it was with the snitch in hand, Madame Hooch yelling about getting the bludger checked, Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy, and Gilderoy Lockhart kneeling next to him.
Definitely a problem with that last one.
"No!" Harry squawked, backing away as best he could. "Not you!"
"Boy doesn't know what he's saying," Lockhart said to those assembled. "Now hold still, Harry," he said, pulling out his wand.
Snips immediately launched himself forward, wrapped his tail around Lockhart's wand, and flew off, yanking the wand clean out of his hand.
"Oh dear—stay right where you are! This is simple—reminds me of that one time in Athens—"
Harry waited until he was gone before struggling upright.
"Honestly, Harry—Professor Lockhart said to stay," Hermione said, as the twins helped him to his feet.
"Hermione, I don't know what he was planning on doing, but Snips not letting him was enough for me," Harry said. "I'm going to the hospital wing."
"We'll go with you," Ron said, indicating himself and Hermione.
"Perfect," George said.
"Lets us watch the veggie-pusher in action," Fred said, already going back to watching Snips play keepaway, dodging into a bush before any of the approaching teachers could see. Professor McGonagall slowed to give the event a glance, poured on the speed when she saw Harry—
"I'm already going to the hospital wing, professor," Harry said.
"Good," McGonagall said.
Madame Pomfrey tutted through most of the bandaging and fixing up of Harry, at Quidditch in general and bludgers in particular. As Harry had expected, she had easily mended his arm. As he had also expected, she wanted him to stay overnight for observation.
"Do I have to?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"Yes," she said, handing him a potion he recognized as a painkiller potion, even though he wasn't feeling poorly. "I'd rather you not strain that arm, and knowing Gryffindor parties, you would. Settle down, and rest assured no bludgers will be getting by me tonight."
Harry wondered if Madame Pomfrey was a beater in another life.
She did allow for a limited party before visiting hours finished up, Ron and Hermione and the twins telling him how Snips had left Lockhart's wand up a tree and how Lockhart had to climb it to get it—Hermione left him a book to read as Madame Pomfrey shooed them out, and the rest had left several sweets that the mediwitch told him he could have after a sensible dinner first.
Afterwards Harry sat in his bed, reading the book that turned out to be on magical creatures, munching on a pumpkin pasty and somewhat relieved that neither bludgers nor Lockhart would be able to get past Madame Pomfrey. She was currently in the back sorting her potions, after politely declining his offer to help (citing his need for winding down for a restful night, don't make her bring out the dreamless sleep) and assuring him that she had several spells on the doors and windows that would let her know if someone tried to break in.
He was pleasantly surprised when Snips squeezed through a window a few pastries later to flit over to him.
"I heard you put Lockhart's wand up a tree," Harry told him, once he was on his usual perch of Harry's shoulder. Snips response was to blow a small raspberry. "I hope Colin Creevy got photos, I'm sorry I missed that."
Madame Pomfrey was over moments later, wand out—looked at the window, at him, spotted Snips. "Ah."
"Can't he stay, Madame Pomfrey?" Harry asked. "He's not doing anything, and he doesn't take up much space."
Madame Pomfrey nodded, looking resigned. "No, past experience tells me he'd be right back if I sent him out." Point at Snips. "He gets to bed at a reasonable hour, understand?"
Snips saluted, crred at Harry as she moved to extinguish the lights.
"Five more minutes?" Harry tried.
Snips flashed sharp teeth, and Harry was very quick to relegate everything to the bedside table before diving under the sheets.
Harry was woken up a few hours later by some very startled yelps. Sit up, grab his glasses, light a quick lumos with his wand—
To see Snips laying into Dobby, diving and snapping at the poor house elf.
"Hey! Snips!" Harry yelped, jumping out of bed and tugging him off. "Dobby, what are you doing here?"
"Dobby had to check on Harry Potter sir, Dobby told Harry Potter not to come to Hogwarts!" Dobby wailed.
Harry debated shushing him, figured Madame Pomfrey would take a house elf better than Uncle Vernon had. "And I told you I couldn't let my friends be in danger—you're right though, something weird's been going on—the caretaker's cat got attacked, no one's sure by what." Watch Dobby's reaction…. "Whatever attacked her is what you're trying to warn me about, isn't it?"
Dobby trying to beat himself over the head with an empty bedpan was a good indication.
"Dobby, stop that," Harry hissed, taking the bedpan away. "Listen—what if I asked you questions, and you shake your head yes or no—would that work?"
Dobby shook his head. "Dobby just wants Harry Potter away from here! Dobby thought Harry Potter would give up when he couldn't get on the platform—"
"You sealed it!?"
"And then when Harry Potter made it to Hogwarts, Dobby thought that his bludger would—"
"You hexed the bludger to come after me?" Harry asked, stunned—looked at Snips—
Snips pointed at the bedpan still in Harry's grasp, then at Dobby.
"Dobby you could have killed me—or gotten me expelled!" Harry said, gesturing with the hand still holding the bedpan, figuring Snips wouldn't like flying around like that. Vaguely, he was aware he sounded like Hermione there, but still.
"Dobby didn't want to kill Harry Potter!" Dobby protested. "Just get Harry Potter away from danger, like with the Muggles!"
Harry froze, was aware of Snips' similar reaction. "Um…Dobby…I would really appreciate not—"
Dobby shook his head again. "Hogwarts won't allow for one of its students to be stolen, Harry Potter sir, not even by a well-meaning house elf, sir."
Well that was comforting. "But Dobby—ugh, look. If you could just—tell someone, or give us a better idea of what it is—anything—any little thing that doesn't involve hurting yourself," Harry said, snatching the bedpan away from Dobby's reaching hands. "Some sort of clue or something—my friends and I can figure it out, Dobby, just give us a hint."
Dobby hesitated—ears suddenly perked up—
Vanished with a sharp crack.
"Hey!" Harry barked—
Threw his arm over his eyes at the light.
"Mr. Potter, I recall telling you to stay in bed."
Harry blinked owlishly at Madame Pomfrey, standing there in her bathrobe with a lit wand and a cross expression—realized he still had a bedpan and Snips in his hands, put both down to point where Dobby had been. "This wasn't my fault, ma'am—there was a house elf—"
Madame Pomfrey didn't dismiss him out of hand or react like Uncle Vernon, so Harry was counting this as a win.
"I knew that someone came in here, but the Hogwarts house elves would know better than to bother a patient," she said, sending a few lights off to scan the area.
Harry blinked at her. "Hogwarts has house elves?"
"Of course! Who do you think cleans the place and cooks the meals?"
Honestly, until this very second he figured it was just magic. "I never saw any."
"That's the mark of a good house elf," she told him, chivying him into bed. "Had a couple of the Weasley boys in here one year for exhaustion because they tried to stay up to see one."
"Fred and George?" Harry guessed, as she summoned a mug of warm milk.
"Yes. Eventually they discovered that they could see as many house elves as they wanted if they went to the kitchens and asked for a snack—incidentally, you should too on occasion, you need some meat on your bones."
Harry nodded, ignoring Snip's see I told you look, described Dobby to Madame Pomfrey at her behest—jumped when she summoned another little house elf and told her about Dobby.
"I want you to keep an eye on Mr. Potter here for the night, and should another house elf come to bother Mr. Potter I want you to detain him, okay Mipsy?" Madame Pomfery asked.
"Yes ma'am!" the little house elf said brightly, saluting.
"Good," Madame Pomfery said, summoning a stool for Mipsy to sit on. "Mr. Potter, I expect you to be asleep again as soon as you finish your milk. Mipsy, make sure he does."
"Yes ma'am" came from two different sources—Madame Pomfery nodded and headed back to bed.
Once she was gone, Harry turned his attention to Mipsy.
"You only make the second house elf I've ever met," Harry said. "I was wondering if it was okay if I asked you some questions?"
Mipsy nodded. "Only make sure you finish your milk, Mr. Potter sir."
"I'll do that while you're talking. So…I kind of got a vague idea of what it is house elves do…."
Mipsy was very obliging in describing what the house elves did in Hogwarts, from cooking to cleaning, how certain teams handled certain areas and particular messes, how her specialty was making the fluffiest mashed potatoes and polishing the flagstones in the great hall.
"You do a wonderful job," Harry said when she finished, putting his empty mug to the side. "Absolutely brilliant, thank you—pass on my compliments to the others?"
Mipsy flushed and ducked her head, wringing her ears slightly; the action reminded Harry enough of Dobby to make him ask his next question.
"Um, Mipsy—you wouldn't happen to know why Dobby is doing this?" he asked, explaining some of the things that had happened since he met the elf.
Mipsy was still wringing her ears, this time in consternation instead of embarrassment.
"Dobby is not a Hogwarts house elf, which would be why he would be telling you Mr. Potter sir," she said finally, after much thought. "And the rest of us would have heard something. Dobby must belong to another family, and his behavior would mean that while his family didn't expressly forbid him, they don't want him warning others."
Harry considered. "Is there no way to figure out who his family is?" Mipsy shook her head. "What about freeing him somehow? Is…that not a good thing?" he asked, upon her scandalized expression.
She shook her head. "Being freed is a mark of shame, Mr. Potter sir—it means a house elf did such a terrible job that there is no other choice. We would lose our magic, wither away and die, Mr. Potter sir—the only time a house elf would welcome freedom from their family would be if that family was dreadfully horrid for a long time." Consider. "That would weaken the bonds enough for a house elf to reach out to someone else…but as I said, it would have to be a horrid family."
Maybe that was why Dobby helped him with Uncle Vernon.
"But Mr. Potter should be getting to sleep now, seeing as how you've finished your milk," Mipsy continued, making Harry's glass vanish. Harry nodded, bid her goodnight as he laid back down—
Catapulted upright as the doors banged open, Professor McGonagall calling for Madame Pomfrey.
"Mr. Potter, stay in that bed," Madame Pomfrey said, blowing by him as Professor Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick came in, levitating—
"Mr. Potter sir!" Mipsy yelped as he jumped out of bed and ran over. "Madame Pomfrey said stay!"
"Mr. Potter, please," Professor McGonagall said, stopping him.
"But that's Luna and Colin!" Harry gasped. "What happened? Are they okay?"
"They seem to have suffered the same fate that Mrs. Norris has," Professor Dumbledore said, tugging Luna's Spectro-specs off. "Which means they will recover."
"Mr. Creevey might have taken a picture of his attacker," Professor Flitwick said, pointing out the camera a stunned Colin had held in front of his face.
"That would be very convenient," Professor Dumbledore said, peeling the camera from Colin's frozen fingers and cracking it open. "Alas, this is generally what happens when something would be too convenient."
Harry covered his nose against the stench of burned film.
"Professors?" Harry asked. "Is this…."
Dumbledore nodded gravely.
"It seems the Chamber of Secrets is open again after all."