Yule Be Sorry

Doing the inheritance ritual at the winter solstice had some sort of warning in the book, but it was convenient timing for everyone, so Hermione decided that the warning was like a lot of warnings in textbooks, exaggerated.

Harry agreed; he never considered warnings of any kind seriously. In his experience, you just winged it, and it turned out okay in the end.

And Daphne's mum had been excited about it possibly curing Astoria, so that was practically a stamp of approval. And she'd done rituals at school and everything.

The ritual took place on the weekend, before the first week of holidays, as that's when the solstice was, at Hogwarts, in the Room of Requirement. As there was no requirement for nakedness, as the correct instant approached the room was filled with Hermione's coven, full of excitement and anticipation. Well, and because of all the ritual candles, (many per person) quite a bit of candle-soot but that was pretty normal for Hogwarts, in Harry's opinion. He'd spent hours yesterday looking at the photos of his mum and dad as adults. Well, in their late teens anyway. His mum had been really pretty, and his dad handsome and casually flirtatious, and Harry desperately hoped that after the ritual he'd find talking to Daphne Greengrass easier, and possibly even work up the courage to kiss her. Each individual ritual was costing about two hundred galleons, so there was a lot riding on the next minute or so. (Harry had decided to spot the Coven the funds for the ritual, at ten percent interest. And made sure Ron didn't see the actual sum, which was so big, that according to Daphne, her father had written a very sternly worded reply to their letter ordering the supplies: they must not screw this up, as he couldn't comfortably cover the debt. Hermione was confident, for her, and had only gnawed through two entire packs of sugar quills today. With being able to apparate, she did a lot of shopping these days. Harry and Ron had large, wrapped presents lying beside their trunks for Christmas already, and they'd already given Hermione hers. Recycled from the Room of Requirement, but it was the thought that counted. Harry mentally considered the couple hundred he had spent on Ron and Hermione's ritual ingredients, as Christmas presents anyway, but he had no reason to give Parkinson, for example, several hundred galleons. Short term loan with interest? That sounded like a real money-spinner.)

Harry and everyone else completed the ritual exactly on time, and the silver powder they'd marked the ritual circles and figures with caught fire and burnt with a bright light. The problem was that becuasepretty much the entire Great-Hall sized rituals room was covered in ritual circles, the light was everywhere at once. And Harry could feel something fizzing in his blood, buzzing in his bones. The buzzing feeling in his bones increased, and Harry had the sudden horrible realization that this might be going to hurt a bit.

However, as the silver powder in his ritual circle burnt out, he realized he was wrong. The feeling of his bones elongating and reshaping wasn't a bit like Skele-Grow. It was more like experiencing Professor Lupin's werewolf transformation, especially as his skull started to change shape. The chorus of screaming filled the room. Harry screamed along, as what felt like his entire skeleton got altered.

He found himself again, panting, as the pain in his bones subsided, to be replaced by excruciating muscle cramps. Objectively, he knew it wasn't as bad as the torture curse cast by Voldemort, but, on the other hand… His arms, legs, jaw and finger and toes were all cramping at once.

Much, much later, he crawled, as part of a whimpering, dishevelled crowd into a large, steaming hot swimming pool that appeared. Hermione had really come through. He didn't bother making a mental note to tell Professor Dumbledore that yes, the room of Requirements could do an aquatic centre, as the was too busy trying not to drown, while simultaneously fighting for space in the pool, being elbowed in the face by girls trying to get enough room in the pool, and trying to straighten his arms and legs. He caught sight of what might be Ron, looking like his face had been stretched somehow. His muscles slowly stopped trying to kill him, and the pain faded to merely hurt, and that was about when he started to feel intensely hungry.

Everyone was groaning and complaining, and blaming Hermione.

He remembered getting back to his bed, but not the entire trip, and distinctly remembered Hermione being shoved by some distraught coven members into a wall. Only, everyone was so cramped up they couldn't really walk particularly well, so it was more like a fight where everyone was full-body bound first.

The next morning, Harry lay in his bed whimpering, That sodding ritual hurt, and he hadn't felt so hungry since last summer. One bed over, Ron groaned. "Food!" he groaned, a second time, more coherently.

Harry's stomach was trying to eat him, so he mentally agreed.

"Oh I'd kiss anyone that brought food," complained Ron.

Harry shook his head. That sort of thinking was dangerous.

The door to their dorm room opened, and Hermione barged in. "Boys," she said, and chewed.

Harry looked over, and she was eating a delicious roast turkey-leg she was holding in her fist.

"Turkey!" he said. And blinked. There was something different with Hermione's face, and she looked stretched upwards.

"Honestly Harry. You should remember you've got a house-elf for a friend," said Hermione "I was famished till I asked Dobby for help."

"Turkey leg!" said Harry.

"Well, an entire turkey, but the principle is the same," said Hermione. "Oh bother. I didn't consider that the rest of the girls will be equally discombobulated."

Harry could remember them trying to thump Hermione last night, but he reached out with one shaky arm "Turkeeey!" he moaned, like some sort of festive inferii.

"Dobby, dear?" asked Hermione. There was a pop, and Dobby appeared, wearing a knitted suit, and knitted boots, in rainbow horizontal stripes.

"Grangey?" said Dobby. "Oh NO! Harry Potter is not well!"

"Hungry!" groaned Harry eloquently.

Dobby vanished with a pop, and a little later, reappeared, holding a tray, covered in an entire roast Turkey. Harry didn't think Dobby wanted a kiss, and the Ron was seriously asking for it from fate at this rate.

"TURKEY!" said Harry, struggling to his feet – he was somehow off balance, and staggered to the turkey, seizing one leg.

The turkey leg, consumed, provided some instant relief of his aching stomach.

"Um, Dobby?" asked Hermione "We might need to do emergency food delivery to some of the other Hogwarts girls."

"Grangey?" asked Dobby.

"Well, we did a ritual, and it's caused a magical growth spurt."

After devouring a turkey-leg, Harry carried one to Ron, and handed it over "Ron – turkey leg."

"Mmm," said Ron, gnawing on it.

Hermione burped. "Oh. Sorry," she said. "Dobby, if you'd come with me, I can give you a list of girls who'll need a little snack?"

"Grangey ate a turkey. Dobby worries about Dobby's fingers," said Dobby.

"Dobby, I'd never eat you," said Hermione.

"Dobby not so sure. Grangey ate turkey scarey quickly."

Something horrible suddenly occurred to Harry, and he stood straight up.

"Oh NO!" he said "Daphne!" He stared at Dobby.

"Dobby, get a big serving of dinner and get it to Daphne Greengrass, fifth year Slytherin girls dorms immediately," said Harry. "Oh, and her sister's a fourth year I think? Hermione?"

"Fourth year, yes, Dobby. Astoria Greengrass. Get her a meal – something like stew, right now!" said Hermione.

Dobby nodded and vanished with a pop.

"Right away?" asked Harry.

"She's younger, and was unwell beforehand," said Hermione. "Oh I do hope it cures her; she's actually quite sweet."

Harry felt panic filling him. He whimpered, and gnawed on turkey.

Ron chewed on a fistful of Turkey. "Ruddy hell, It makes you hungry dunnit."

"Yes," said Hermione. Harry stared at her; she looked like someone had transfigured her taller or something, and her familiar face was longer. Well, to be blunt, she had a human-shaped face now, so her hair looked more in proportion. And it wasn't a massive bushy mess right now; just what normal people would call 'wavy hair,' or maybe 'big hair,' if they were being rude.

"Harry, have some more," said Ron, who's face wasn't Ron-ish any more. Too long, and his jaw had gone all angles and stuff. However, he was also famished hungry.

"Um yeah," said Harry, ripping off some breast-meat self-consciously, then finding that actually no, he was that hungry that he was going to just rip meat off a turkey and eat it, and was soon eating it all up.

"Harry, you've got a lot taller," said Hermione. "You're as tall as Ron."

"Nah," muttered Ron, standing up. Hermione gulped.

Harry looked over; Ron was easily six foot tall now, and something really had changed with his face. It wasn't quite so blocky as it had been this year. Ron, in fact, reminded him of someone, but he couldn't think who. Some Weasley, he was fairly sure. Harry wondered if he liked Ron not looking so Ron-ish, but Ron had gone from being round-cheeked and freckled when he and Harry were eleven, to having a head like an orange-hair-topped brick this year, so maybe this was an improvement. Only he looked half-starved, and Weasleys never looked half-starved. (And it occurred to Harry that Ron's Mum would not approve. And his back felt suddenly chilly.)

Hermione, of course had to go catch the train at ten, so she left before he could make comparisons.

"Granger's loads taller" said Seamus, who'd been hiding behind his bed-curtains.

"Her face is all stretched" said Dean. "Harry, your face is stretched."

"He looks quite thing" grumbled Ron. "Even for him"

"Um Ron. You lot been tranfiguring each other?"

"Um, kind of" said Ron.

"Well, you look like shit" said Seamus. Harry felt peckish, so he started gnawing on the great gobs of stuffing.

Everyone except Ron and Harry in the dorm went home for Christmas. Which was okay, Harry didn't mind. He minded being told he needed to learn the spell properly; it wasn't even a spell.

With emergency Turkey supplements for a few days, they made it to Christmas day, and the lunch thereof, without dying of hunger. Harry was worried that Daphne might have been hungry on the train, but Hermione assured him before the train left that that no, she was quite sensible enough to take a hamper, prepared by Dobby; Hermione would be sharing it. And then she and almost everyone except the Weasleys, Harry, and some of the Seventh years, left Gryffindor for Christmas with their families. The Seventh years were studying for their NEWTs, of course.

In first year, Harry had thought the Christmas feast had been overwhelming. Now, to his famished mind, it looked merely… like he wasn't going hungry today. He licked his lips.

He and Ron managed a turkey each, rounds of roast potatoes, and even, thought Harry virtuously, some vegetables. Around the table, a pair of identical vaguely familiar fourth-year girls were also devouring everything near them. Harry rather thought they were 'coven girls' too. The way their faces were vertically oblong and starved looking was a tip-off, as was the way they too wobbled a bit walking into dinner.

By the time they got to dessert, Harry felt as stuffed as a sock full of knuts. He pocketed everything edible that was pocketable, and resolved to look up how to space-expand his pockets sometime soon; snacks were a lifeline after this stupid ritual.

He staggered up the stairs, finding his balance off somehow.

Ginny followed them.

"So you and Hermione and all the fifth year girls did something to get taller the other night?" asked Ginny casually.

"No we didn't," said Harry.

"Harry, your socks are showing," said Ginny sharply. "And Ron, you're showing the tops of your socks. You lot got taller. And you're eating like bigger pigs than usual, and your faces look all stretched.

"It's your imagination," said Ron.

"No it's not," said Ginny. "God Ron, you couldn't lie if Merlin himself reappeared and gave you a hat enchanted to lie for you."

"Ouch," said Harry. "We can't tell you. Magical contracts. You hypothetically need to convince Hermione to let you join a coven that she totally doesn't run."

"Harry, you told her!" said Ron indignantly.

"No I didn't. I told her nothing. Didn't I?" asked Harry.

"Not a thing. Why is my friend Hermione not helping me, but helping, hypothetically, your future wife's sickly little sister?" asked Ginny.

"I can't answer that," said Harry, wobbling as he climbed the stairs.
"Yeah he can't," said Ron. "Fancy a game of chess?"

Once they got back to the common room, Ron thrashed him at chess, once again.

"Good game," said Ron. "You're improving," he added.

Harry felt deeply disappointed, he'd really felt like he could work out what Ron was doing a couple of moves ahead today, and Ron had just beaten him… again.

Harry ate humbugs, feeling a bit thick, while Ron utterly spanked Ginny at chess.

"You… sodding git" said Ginny. "Never playing with you again. It's like playing Bill now, when he's not being nice."

"Yeah sure Gin. Harry lasted eighteen moves; new personal best for him" said Ron casually.

"You what?" asked Harry.

"Well, I need to play Bill and Percy to see if I've advanced on the ladder, but being able to beat Ginny conclusively puts me in fourth place."

"What about the twins?" asked Harry.

"They don't take chess seriously," said Ron. "The pieces object to being told to sing stupid songs."

-=0=-

By four pm, Harry was famished again, which was farcical. He'd eaten an entire sodding Turkey!

He and Ron went to the kitchens to beg for food.

By the end of the winter break, Harry wasn't waking twice every night starving any more, and his reflection worried him. He looked, he knew, like his father, but with, as everyone who knew them said, with his mother's eyes. He hadn't noticed before that he had large eyes, or that given the weight he'd put on, and the height that his skeleton had so painfully stretched into, that he could have easily given young Tom Riddle a run for his money in the looks department. His hair, however, was still a black birds-nest. The thing other people didn't seem to notice, was that his hair was, while messy, less disorganisedly messy, and looked more like Harry had spent half an hour trying to look really casual. Which he had not! He wasn't going to get poncy just because the stupid, painful ritual had evidently given him some sort of makeover.

More disturbingly, Ron now looked in Ginny's words: "Like Bill, only younger. What the Hell, Ron!"

Ron was spending more time in the bathroom looking at himself in the mirror. Harry had the suspicion that any day now, he'd decide he wanted a ponytail. And… Ron was loads taller than Harry again. He ducked for the lower doors in the castle now, and must be over six feet tall. On the other hand, his clothes didn't fit very well any more. And more worryingly, Ron looked up tailoring charms, and was trying, on his very worst clothes, to transform them to fit.

Harry even spared a moment to worry about Hermione. She'd looked atrocious when she left for the train; her face stretched like dough, and her limbs longer and stick-like. And he couldn't help worrying about Daphne Greengrass…. Had she had enough to eat on the train?

The day the Hogwarts express was due back, Harry had a brainwave. He could ask Dobby if Daphne had eaten enough. House-elves, Harry had discovered, while eating six meals a day, seemed to have a magical sense for what someone had eaten, and what would really hit the spot. Even if Spinach and cheese stew was a bit weird. It worked, so never mind.

Harry was coincidentally in the kitchen, having second breakfast… the hunger pangs were going, but he was, as Ron said, 'a growing boy.'

And it was just cheese sticks and garlic bread. And some open-face ham sandwiches. Hardly anything.

"Dobby?" asked Harry.

Dobby stared intently at him, "yes, brave, marvellous Harry Potter ?" he asked.

"Did Daphne Greengrass get enough to eat on the Hogwarts Express on the way home for the winter break?"

"Dobby brought Miss Grangey an extra hamper with yoghurt and fruit. All the witches had very good appetites, yes they did. Mipsy and Doris and Hiffy all did delivery runs to the carriages with miss Grangey's coven in them, yes they did."

"You got other elves to help?"

"Dobby couldn't possibly take all the work for himself!" said Dobby "That would be not sharing. That's not… proper manners."

Dobby frowned. "Dobby is sorry, but someone is calling Dobby. Dobby must go!"

"Um. Okay Dobby, Thanks a lot," said Harry, not so worried about Daphne now. And Dobby vanished with a pop.

At the start-of-term feast, Harry spotted the Coven girls in the mass of students. They stood out, with thin faces, often taller than the other boys and girls their age. Harry wasn't sure, but there was something about them all.

He caught sight of Daphne Greengrass… well he was fairly sure it was Daphne, as she was blonde, and the girl next to her was probably Tracey. But all the Slytherin Coven girls looked… well, Daphne's nose had been the thing you noticed first about her, now it was… well, she had a nose bigger than average, but not that big. You were more likely to notice, thought Harry, that she was looking a bit underweight. And had a strong jaw and a long neck. And… the brown haired girl next to her simply had to be her little sister. She looked um. Well, she didn't look so sickly, her eyes didn't have that slightly grey shading around them, and she walked confidently along.

Daphne looked up and saw Harry, and frowned. Harry had seen her frown before, but now… her eyebrows were much more dramatic (possibly makeup?) And she mouthed what Harry was pretty sure was, 'WE NEED TO TALK.' Harry nodded. He wanted to make sure she was okay, for starters, and see how her sister was, because her sister's poor health seemed capable of reducing her to tears.

He finally found Hermione, heading into the Great Hall, with a new bookbag on.

Her face was… well it looked less like Hermione and more… well if you were being kind, she looked sort of average. Thin, but 'average'. Well, and taller.

"Evening," said Hermione, slipping into the space between Harry and Ron.

"How are you?" asked Ron.

Hermione looked at Ron's head, then his arms, then turned and looked at Harry.

"Well, I see we have things to talk about later," she said, and even her voice was different than it had been. Her hardly noticeable-at-all lisp that had mostly cleared up from the front-teeth fiasco had gone, as had the slightly wheezy way she'd been breathing. That had him really hoping the best for Astoria.

Harry looked back over at the Slytherin table, and spotted, again, what had to be an elongated Tracey, and a Lils with better skin, and … if that was Perks, her hair, if nothing else was miles better. And she wasn't wearing glasses. Harry felt sudden, stabbing disappointment. His eyesight hadn't improved that much. But then he wondered if it had got worse, because next to a tall girl that reminded him vaguely of Millicent, was an attractive little brunette with a pixie cut, and a grin – she was laughing about something. Harry didn't recognise her, or the tall girl next to her.

"Is that Parkinson?" asked Ron.

"Yes. She's ecstatic about her nose. And Millie.. well, she's a lucky girl," said Hermione quite calmly.

Harry stared over at? Holy hell, if that was Parkinson, then the sodding ritual could be a miracle. On the other hand… Millicent looked like a younger, shorter Madame Maxine. And Harry was quite sure Millicent now had separate eyebrows. Well, and looked like the sort of girl that got asked out a lot. Not that Daphne wasn't…. Harry looked over at Daphne, who was chatting with her friends, and her smile flashed. Harry swallowed with difficulty. She had always had a pretty smile, but she had sodding dimples now! Harry watched the Slytherin coven girls laughing… in fact, they almost all had dimples. Perks's entire face was now… well she could probably be a model or something.

"Were you two ravenous?" asked Hermione.

"A bit peckish yeah," said Ron dismissively.

Hermione cast a privacy charm without hesitating at all.

"I was getting delivery pizza during the day. Then I started craving dairy. I got an owl from Daphne, and popped over… god, I think we ate our body-weight in ice-cream and yoghurt." said Hermione.

"You aren't… developing an eating problem are you Hermione?" asked Ron, uncharacteristically confidently.

"No, god, everyone's been struggling to eat enough, Well, except for Millie, she had weight to use up," said Hermione. "I think it's somehow accelerated cell growth. You two are looking peaky. Have you been eating enough?"

"Well, six meals a day, if that's normal for this," said Harry. "Did… did Astoria improve?"

"Harry, she's right over there. She seems to have really picked up," said Hermione. "Her mum was cautiously optimistic. Her dad offered me a job."

"A job?"

"Yeah," said Hermione. "I think it was for form's sake. But she's not needed to um. Take potions to walk around normally, and was taking the stairs, and even her mum agreed she didn't need to keep the wheelchair."

"Wheel… chair?" said Harry. They hadn't mentioned that. That sounded really serious.

"Magical, self-propelled, could fly, but yes, wheelchair," said Hermione. "I think the ritual worked. Daphne's face has changed shape a bit. She looks so aristocratic now."

Ron looked over. "Yeah," he said. "But they all look posh, a bit starved, but posh."

He turned and looked at Hermione "Your mum and da okay with your new look?"

"They're amazed. Of course, I'm over seventeen, so I could finally demonstrate stuff. Mum had me doing DIY on the house for days. Dad wants half the house space-expanded, and I um… put some serious protections on the property, and their offices."

"Serious protections?" asked Ron.

"Almost as good as Harry's Aunts' house," said Hermione. "I think."

"Have you been, like apparating around visiting the coven?" asked Ron.

"Yes Ron, I did, because I'm old enough to apparate." said Hermione sharply. "And I have a licence, because I got tutors through the coven, and sat the exams early. I am the oldest girl in our year."

"Well yes, birthday in September," said Harry.

"And you in July… younger than most," said Hermione.

Hermione lingered over dessert, taking five helpings of ice-cream. Harry hoped she hadn't developed an eating disorder, and he virtuously took a balanced diet; in other words, he had an entire helping of every dessert. And filled his pockets with humbugs. Perfectly normal, for post-ritual emergency snacks.

Ron and Harry working out. Well, doing strength rituals anyway.

"I'm a little worried this could get me banned from Pro Quidditch" said Ron. "But then again, I don't think I'm going to play pro quidditch. "