|
The Refiner's Fire | ||||||
|
Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff, General Warnings: Death, Sexual Situations, Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 618 Summary: In the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter learns to come to terms with the death of Sirius. As he heals and grows emotionally, he learns how to enjoy life again. But there's a war on, and Voldemort's primary objective is to kill Harry Potter, by any means necessary. As a result, Harry and his friends have a very adventurous sixth year at Hogwarts. Canon-based with some OC. HG, RHr, RT. Hitcount: Story Total: 381530; Chapter Total: 15293 |
Previous Next |
|
||||
|
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Author notes: Many thanks to my brilliant Brit-picker, Kelpie, and my beta-readers, Blakevich, Starfox, Pilar and Shawn! You can join the Yahoo! Group for this fic at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPRef inersFire Harry awoke in the darkened room to find the pain in his wing a dull throb rather than the sharp, stabbing pain it had been. He lifted his head and squinted, seeing a blurry image of Remus asleep in the chair beside the head of his bed, out of the way of his wing, and Ginny’s long red hair splashed across the back of a chair beside Remus’s. He lay his head back down and thought a while. He really needed to get up. The loo was calling. Stifling his groans, he managed to get his glasses off the bedside table, lift his wings free from the beds they were lying across, and then get his legs over the side of the bed. He’d started tottering toward the loo, both wings and arms outstretched for balance, when Remus, Ginny and Ron all converged on him. “What do you think you’re doing?” Ginny demanded, her hands outstretched to avoid running into his invisible wings. ”Erm. . .loo?” Harry replied, a slight blush colouring his wan face. “Mate, I don’t think that’s going to work for you in your present condition,” Ron said with a rueful shake of his head, looking at the bathroom door. He came toward Harry carefully from the front, since he couldn’t see the wings in order to avoid them, and then put his arm around his friend to help support him, careful to keep his arm below the wing joints. Remus held Harry’s other arm to help him balance. ”Why not?” Harry said, blushing more as he crossed his legs uncomfortably. He was suddenly grateful for his friends’ support. He wasn’t as strong as he thought he was. “ Your wings, mate. Remus says your wingspan is over thirty feet and you’re not allowed to fold them until they heal. They won’t go through the door, even sideways.” Harry looked from Ron’s serious but amused face to the bathroom door to the huge wingspan that was following him closely. “I guess you’re right,” he admitted with a wry grin. ”Madam Pomfrey set up screens and a chamber pot for you over there, Harry,” Ginny offered. Harry’s eyes widened in horror as he looked at his girlfriend. “Wait a second. I’m not going to. . .with you and everyone. . .no way!” ”Apparently that Blood Restorer works,” Ron teased. “Look at him blush!” He chuckled as he looked at his sister and said, “Go over there with Hermione and the two of you talk loudly or something. A man needs some privacy once in a while! You do have six brothers. You should know that.” Ginny “harrumphed” and walked back to Hermione’s bed. “Boys!” she grumbled, then laughed. “He looks loads better, doesn’t he?” she told Hermione. “Yes, and I’m sure he’ll feel even better in a few minutes,” Hermione said, laughing with Ginny. “He did blush rather nicely, didn’t he? I couldn’t see his face since he was turned away, but even his back blushed!” The girls enjoyed their giggles over Harry’s situation, relieved that he was so much improved already. Madam Pomfrey came out of her office when she saw Harry on his way back to his bed. “How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?” she asked, checking the dressings on his wounds as she spoke. “Fine, except that the wings pull on my shoulder blades a lot, and they make me feel off-balanced. They’re much easier to carry as a thestral. Can I put them away now, or change into a thestral?” he said hopefully. ”I think it will be all right for you to change into a thestral if you’ll be more comfortable that way. Your wing needs to stay stretched so it will heal properly,” she replied. “Hmm. A thestral is too big for that bed. Let me make up a bed for you over here in the corner,” she said, waving to Hagrid as he came in. Panicking when he saw the door open, Harry pulled away from Ron’s and Remus’s supporting hands, grabbed the blanket off of his bed and threw it over himself, not realizing his wings not only lifted the blanket oddly, but also protruded well beyond it, which was quite a comical sight. “I thought you were keeping me hidden!” he cried before he saw the intruder was Hagrid. He moaned as the weight of the blanket made his injured wing throb painfully. ”We are keeping you hidden,” Remus assured him, calmly helping him remove the blanket from his wings. “The door is password protected for now. Nobody but those who already know about you can get in here.” ”Oh,” Harry replied, relieved and a bit embarrassed about how silly he’d looked with the blanket over his wings. “All right then. Hi, Hagrid.” He smiled at his half-giant friend, and then straddled a chair, with the chair back at the front, so his wings had plenty of room. He rested his arms on the chair back, his chin on his arms, watching Hagrid, Remus and Madam Pomfrey create a thestral-sized bed for him, four mattresses wide, two mattresses long. ”I think tha’ll do it,” Hagrid said with satisfaction. “Harry, transform and let’s see how you fit.” Harry stood up, turned himself into a thestral again and walked to the bedding. He pawed at it for a little while, and then flopped down with a satisfied grunt, his wings splayed out across the mattresses. “All right there, Harry?” Hagrid said. He was still amazed about his friend being an Animagus who could become a thestral. A silvery shimmer appeared around the thestral’s head, and suddenly, there was Harry’s head on the thestral. The girls gasped in shock at seeing Harry’s head appear, apparently out of nowhere. “Yeah, thanks,” he said with a grin. “This is much better!” His head changed back into a thestral’s and he lay down contentedly. A quiet rumbling soon came from the invisible winged horse, which Hagrid said was the way they snored. The next day, Harry and Hermione were both let out of the hospital wing. As they, Ron and Ginny neared the Great Hall for breakfast, they saw Draco Malfoy and his friends entering the Hall ahead of them. Harry’s friends could feel him tensing up with anger. “Harry,” Ginny warned, “he doesn’t remember what happened.” ”But I do,” Harry snapped. He didn’t want to control his anger. He wanted to unleash it all in Malfoy’s direction. “He nearly killed all of us. And you three don’t want to know what it feels like to have a wing shredded, believe me.” ”We know that, Harry,” Hermione assured him nervously. “None of us feels right about him getting off so easily, but he has been Memory Charmed.” “Hey, Harry, did you eat something in Hogsmeade that made you sick? Or was it really a virus?” Dean asked as he came up behind them. The school had been told that Harry was in hospital because of a stomach ailment which might be a contagious virus. The virus story explained the quarantine imposed on the hospital wing to everyone’s satisfaction. The other students all knew Hermione was there as a result of her encounter with the Dementor. “Dunno. Maybe it was just a short-term virus,” Harry offered with a shrug. “I hope nobody else gets it,” he added sincerely. The Yule Ball was being held just before the students left for their Christmas holidays. The castle was decorated beautifully, as usual, with real fairies holding shimmering lights in the twelve huge Christmas trees in the Great Hall, the suits of armour doing clanking jigs to Christmas tunes whenever someone passed them, the ghosts singing carols at meals, and sparkling globes of soft lights in various colours dancing below the ceiling in the corridors. Mistletoe was hung in many odd places, causing a lot of laughter and kissing among the older students, a lot of cringing among the younger ones. The evening of the ball, Ginny came down to the Common Room dressed in beautiful dress robes of a deep shimmering gold material that set off her red hair beautifully. The new dress robes were the present she’d asked her parents for when they wanted to reward her for being named a Prefect. Harry’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. “Wow!” he said, gingerly touching her bare shoulders. She’d used some kind of potion that put glittery highlights on her skin. Her hair was up in an elegant knot, with golden beads inserted here and there making her look even more glamorous. She was wearing makeup with golden highlights that sparkled similarly to her robes. She looked far more like a mature young woman than a fifteen-year-old girl. Harry was handsome in his new dress robes of a rich deep emerald that made his eyes seem an even more brilliant green. His hair was actually behaving fairly well for once, much to his amazement. “Wow, yourself, gorgeous,” Ginny said, grinning up at him. “I. . .uh. . .” Harry seemed speechless for a moment. “Erm. . .if you wouldn’t mind getting your Christmas present a bit early. . .” he began. “Why?” she teased as he stumbled around searching for words. “What I got you would look brilliant on you tonight,” he finished in a rush. “At least, I think so, anyway. I can always rewrap it to give it to you for Christmas,” he added hastily. “You don’t have to rewrap it — and yes, I’d love to have my present early,” Ginny said, her brown eyes dancing with delight. “Accio present!” Harry said with a small wave of his wand. He held out his hand waiting for it, not even looking toward the stairs to the boy’s dormitories. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Ginny. “Ouch!” Ron said as the flying gift hit him on the head. “Watch it!” Harry glanced up toward the stairs, blushing as he mumbled “Sorry!” to his friend while catching the present. “Erm. . .here,” he said awkwardly, putting it in her hand. “Happy Christmas.” “Thank you, sweetie!” Ginny replied excitedly, then opened her gift. The golden Gryffindor lion and ruby pendant lay against the ivory silk lining the box. Ginny’s mouth dropped open. She’d never had anything so elegant in her life, or so expensive. “Oh, Harry!” she breathed. “It’s beautiful!” “I’m so glad you like it!” he said, sounding greatly relieved. “I wasn’t sure if. . .” He was interrupted by Ginny pulling him into a warm hug that evolved into a serious kiss. When she was able to let Harry go, Ginny said “Thank you, sweetheart! It’s just wonderful! Can you fasten it for me?” She removed it from the box and unlocked the clasp, handed the open chain to Harry and turned around nearly shivering with anticipation. Ron watched them warily from a distance. As he put the necklace around her neck and fastened the catch, Harry ran his hands over her shoulders, down her arms and then around her waist, hugging her from behind, kissing her softly behind her ear, then on her neck just under her pulled-up hair. “Oy! Get a room!” Seamus called cheekily as he escorted Lavender toward the portrait hole. Harry and Ginny wore matching blushes as he pulled her arm through his and they walked toward the portrait hole. Ginny kept touching her pendant, as if making sure it was real. “It looks fantastic on you,” Harry told her. “I thought it would look nice with your dress robes.” Ron and Hermione came up behind them. “What would look nice with her robes?” Hermione asked. “Ginny, your new dress robes are beautiful!” Ginny turned around, swirling her skirts. “Thanks! This is what we were talking about,” she said, indicating her pendant. “This is Harry’s Christmas present to me. Isn’t it gorgeous?” Hermione made all the appropriate admiring sounds and the two girls ran to a mirror so Ginny could see how it looked. Meanwhile, Ron gave Harry a disgusted look and got out his wand. “Accio present!” he said “Going to give Hermione hers early too?” Harry asked with a cheeky grin. “Yeah, since you jumped the gun,” Ron replied grumpily. “When I saw her in those robes, with her hair up like that, with sparkly gold things in it and all — I knew that pendant would look perfect. It just seemed to be the thing to do,” Harry said, a besotted look on his face as he watched the girls preening in front of the mirror. “I offered to rewrap it for her for Christmas, but she said no.” When Hermione’s gift arrived in Ron’s hand, he moved behind her and put one arm around her waist. He leaned down and murmured in her ear, “D’you want your present now too?” “Only if you want to give it to me now,” she replied with a pleased smile. “It will look very pretty with what you have on,” Ron added. “That blue with what’s in this box. . .should be really nice together.” Hermione whirled in his arms and said, “OK, gimme!” amid peals of laughter. Ron passed her the box, saying “Happy Christmas — and I’ll rewrap it if you want.” When she opened the box, Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise. “A charm bracelet . . . with a book charm! How. . .cute!” Ron looked crushed. “Cute” wasn’t his goal. Harry stared at Ginny desperately and tilted his head toward the boxed bracelet. “Erm, Hermione?” Ginny said, “May I see it?” “Yes. Isn’t it nice?” Hermione said, clearly pleased, but not as bowled over as Ginny had been with her pendant. “Oh, look!” Ginny said with obvious delight. “There are pictures inside!” “Really? Let me see!” Hermione said, opening the book, then going slowly through the four pictures inside. By the time she was done, she had tears in her eyes. “Oh, Ron! This is the sweetest thing ever! I do love it!” She grabbed him in a warm hug. Harry and Ginny cast relieved looks at each other when they saw the happiness on Ron’s face. When Hermione released Ron, she held out her wrist. “Can you put it on me?” Ron fumbled around a while trying to get it on, then finally succeeded. “This thing is so tiny!” he complained as he tried for the sixth or seventh time to get it to catch. Once he had it done, Hermione shook her wrist to see the pretty charm catch the light, then took Ron’s arm and headed out to the Ball, Harry and Ginny following close behind. “Hermione, that glittery potion looks beautiful with the colour of your dress,” Ginny complimented. “Thanks for letting me borrow it,” Hermione said. “It looks great on you too!” “What is that stuff?” Ron asked, gingerly touching the sparkles on his girlfriend’s bare shoulder. “Some kind of potion. There’s a new lady’s shop in town that carries all kinds of potions, lotions, bath salts, and other things to help us ‘beautify’ ourselves,” Hermione said with a giggle. “Ginny’s been in there loads of times.” “What for?” Harry asked Ginny innocently. “You don’t need that kind of stuff.” Ginny squeezed his arm tightly and beamed up at him. “You are so sweet. That was the perfect thing to say.” “I meant it. What do you need that kind of stuff for?” he asked, perplexed. “One of those potions made my hair shinier, one put the glitter on our shoulders,” Ginny replied. “That’s what Hermione used tonight too. There are others, like blushers to help pink up our cheeks. . .” “As if a redhead needs help with that!” Ron snorted. “Well, at least with this stuff, the pink is where we want it!” she said, giggling. During the dance, Harry and Ron finally figured out that, if they just held their girlfriends closely and rocked in rhythm with the music, it was close enough to dancing to keep the girls happy. For the fast dances, just bouncing around on the spot was good enough. Once these ideas occurred to them, they started having a lot more fun, and their dancing actually improved. Over at one of the Slytherin tables, Pansy Parkinson wasn’t having a good time at all. Draco Malfoy, her date, was not interested in dancing or talking. She sat by him and watched the couples moving around the dance floor, envy piercing her heart. “Why can’t we dance?” she asked peevishly. “I don’t want to,” Malfoy growled grumpily, glaring around at the other people who were evidently enjoying themselves. “But I do!” she complained. “Crabbe, Goyle, one of you dance with Parkinson,” Malfoy ordered with a snap of his fingers. “No! I don’t want to dance with them. You’re my date, Draco. Why can’t we dance?” “I told you,” he said angrily, emphasizing each word carefully, “I do not want to.” She sighed and rested her chin on her fist, watching Harry and Ginny hungrily. Harry was busy disentangling a strand of Ginny’s hair from the catch on her necklace. He was being very careful, very gentle, and the two of them were laughing. He finally unhooked the necklace in order to get the tendril of hair loose from it. As he re-latched the necklace and smoothed Ginny’s hair away from it, he leaned down and kissed the back of her neck. She turned around and slid her arms around his neck, giving him a warm kiss in return, and then rested her head contentedly on his shoulder as they danced close together, arms tight around each other. “Why can’t you be like that?” Pansy mused, mostly to herself. “What?” Malfoy snapped. He, too, had been staring at Harry and Ginny, but with an envy that bordered on rage. How could Potter get away with everything? Why did he have a beautiful girlfriend who obviously cared about him? Why had the Dark Lord not succeeded in killing the rotten half-blood, with all the chances he’d had? Malfoy’s own father and the Dark Lord spent a lot more time thinking about Harry Potter and paying attention to what was going on in his life, than either did about Draco. His anger grew as he pondered these things. He’d show them. He’d earn his Dark Mark in some spectacular way. They’d pay attention to him, respect him, treat him as he deserved to be treated. He just had to get Potter to make all those things happen. Pansy turned to Malfoy, unshed tears in her eyes. “Why can’t you be nice to me? Why can’t you care about me, like Potter does Ginny Weasley? He. . .,” she hesitated, searching for the right word. “He. . .he cherishes her. And she feels the same way about him. She’s such a. . .she’s an absolute cow! He could do so much better. But they’re so sweet to each other. Why can’t you treat me the way he treats her?” She took a ragged breath and tried to find some way to change her mood, determined to not give Malfoy any more weapons to use against her. “You’re comparing me with Saint Potter now, are you?” Malfoy sneered, a dangerous glint in his eye. “You want to be ‘cherished’? Try earning it!” Pansy burst into tears. Malfoy grabbed her hand and dragged her from the Great Hall, grumbling, “You’re making me look bad. Dry up!” When they got to a quiet place in the corridor, he said, “What is wrong with you?” “I just want to be appreciated, to be cared about, like any other girl,” she began, trying not to whimper in the face of his rage. Malfoy slapped her hard with his open hand. “You’re a fine one to call Ginny Weasley a cow. She may be a Mudblood lover and a Gryffindor, but at least she’s pretty. You’re the cow.” He stormed off, leaving her standing there with the bright red imprint of his hand on her face. She pulled out her wand to hex him, but he was too fast for her. With a flash of yellow light, Malfoy hexed Pansy so she sprouted a cow’s horns and tail. Wailing in anguish, she ran off. Malfoy didn’t care where she went, as long as it wasn’t where he was going. He headed down to the Slytherin dungeon. Dances just weren’t his idea of fun anyway. “What a beautiful night,” Ginny murmured, leaning back against Harry as they stood in the open front door of the castle, cooling off from the dance. He had his arms around her waist and his chin resting on top of her head, doing his best not to mess up her hairdo. “Yeah,” he replied, enjoying the quiet moment with her. He turned her around to face him and gazed into her eyes. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are tonight?” She blushed and smiled at him. “Nope,” she said impertinently. “How beautiful am I?” “Every bloke at the dance was staring at you,” Harry said, pretending to be exasperated. “I thought I was going to have to jinx the lot of them!” He chuckled, then leaned down to kiss her. Suddenly, they heard a scream for help. “That’s Hermione!” he cried, taking Ginny’s hand and racing toward the sound. In an empty classroom not far from the Great Hall, Hermione kneeled by a thrashing Ron, who seemed to be choking. “What happened to him?” Harry asked as he and Ginny raced to her side. “We. . .we. . .” she began, but her tears were making it hard for her to speak. Harry grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. ”Tell me, Hermione,” he insisted. “We were kissing, and he kissed my neck, and then licked it, and then this started happening,” she moaned. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” “Did he lick where you have that glittery stuff?” Harry asked. “Yes, I think so.” “What’s in that stuff?” Harry asked Ginny. “I. . .I don’t know,” she replied, looking horror-struck at her brother, who was turning blue. “He doesn’t seem to be able to breathe.” “Give me your necklace,” Harry ordered. “What?” “Just do it. Hurry!” She fumbled with the clasp and then handed it to Harry, who fastened it around Ron’s neck. The girls looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Why are you doing that?” Ginny asked, dumbfounded. “It has special charms on it, protective charms. They’re supposed to be good for poisons and most stealthy attacks, just not for direct attacks with spells,” Harry explained quickly. He watched as Ron’s colour improved and his breathing eased. “Thanks, mate,” Ron croaked out when he could speak. “We’d better get you to the hospital wing so Madam Pomfrey can fix you up,” Harry said, getting to his feet. Ron struggled as if to get up, but Harry held him down. “No, if it’s poison, your movements may push it further into your system. Just relax. I’ve got you,” he said as he lifted his friend in his arms with only the smallest of grunts at the effort. “Ginny, run to the Great Hall and get Madam Pomfrey. Tell her we’re on the way to the hospital wing.” “OK,” she replied, and raced to the Great Hall as fast as she could. As Harry carried Ron toward the stairs, Hermione shook her head as if just coming out of a trance. “Wait, Harry!” she cried as she pulled out her wand. “Wingardium Leviosa,” she said with a swish and flick of her wand. As Ron lifted out of Harry’s arms, borne by Hermione’s Levitation Charm, he grabbed at Harry and groaned. “’Mione! No!” “Why not?” she asked, amazed. “You’re too big for Harry to carry.” “Just. . .be careful, OK? I feel sick enough already,” he whispered miserably. “I can carry him, Hermione,” Harry assured her. After she lifted the spell, Harry continued up the stairs with Ron securely in his arms. “Harry. . . are you sure? I feel. . . a bit silly,” Ron protested feebly. “No worries, mate,” Harry assured him. “You could lighten up on the chocolate frogs a bit if I’m going to have to do this very often,” he teased, adding some dramatic grunts at the same time, hoping to get a grin out of Ron. He was rewarded with a small chuckle. “I’ll try not to need . . .this kind of help. . . too often, then. I just can’t . . .give up the frogs,” Ron said with an attempt at a grin. Hermione was a bit huffy about not being allowed to help. “Why don’t you want to be levitated?” she asked Ron. “Have you ever. . . been levitated. . . when you’re awake and not. . . feeling well? It’s like. . .being on a boat. I was getting sea sick,” he explained in a weak voice. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t know that!” she replied, distraught. She hurried along by Harry’s side, trying to keep up with his long strides, and then said, “You’re so pale, and you’re all sweaty. How do you feel?” Her brow was furrowed in concern. “My mouth and throat are on fire,” he whispered, his voice growing hoarser every time he spoke. “I feel awful.” He was twisting in Harry’s arms, in obvious pain. “Maybe you’re having an allergic reaction or something,” said Hermione, wiping the sweat from his brow with her hand. “I’m so sorry!” She sniffled, trying to hold back the tears in her eyes. “Not your fault,” he said, trying to smile. As they reached the hospital doors, Ginny and Madam Pomfrey ran out to meet them. “Tell me what happened,” Madam Pomfrey said to Hermione and Ron as Harry gently laid Ron on a bed. They told her what had happened and Harry explained about the powers of Ginny’s necklace. Madam Pomfrey checked Ron over, and then gave him a potion that immediately relieved his symptoms. When he felt better, she removed the necklace and handed it to Ginny. “That’s quite a nice gift,” she commented, nodding at the necklace in Ginny’s hand. “It probably saved your brother’s life.” Ginny nodded and tried to put her pendant back on. Her hands were shaking so, she just couldn’t manage it. Harry took the delicate chain from her and fastened it around her neck, rubbing her shoulders gently after he was finished. “Oh, Harry, don’t do that!” Ginny cried, tearing herself away from him. Harry was astonished. ”Why? Did I hurt you?” “No, but I still have the glittery stuff on. What if it makes you sick too?” she said, her face twisted in worry. “I’m going to the loo and wash it off. You’d better go wash your hands too.” “Miss Granger, you should do the same,” advised Madam Pomfrey. “And Miss Weasley, can you bring me the flagon this potion was in so I can test it?” “I’ll bring it, but it’s empty. It was a sample and only had a little bit in it, just barely enough for Hermione and me to use it for the dance. Lavender and Parvati were quite put out that I didn’t have more to share,” Ginny replied. “I guess when they hear about this, they’ll be glad they didn’t get any!” “I was wondering why Parvati, in particular, didn’t have any of this potion,” Hermione commented thoughtfully. “It seems like something she’d love to have.” “The woman in the shop had only made a small batch of it, and she gave it to me. She said she wanted to see how I liked it,” Ginny explained. “Were you in the shop alone?” Hermione asked, a frown of concentration on her face. “Lavender, Parvati and some other girls were in there at the same time.” “But you weren’t with them. You were by yourself, right?” Hermione insisted. “Yes, that’s when you were shopping in the stationers,” Ginny replied with a shrug. “I can’t afford what she has, so I just go in there to look and for the free samples. She’s given me samples before. Sometimes she gives samples to the other girls as well. It’s just a way to try to drum up business, isn’t it?” Ginny looked confused. “Not if she knows you’re Harry’s girlfriend,” Hermione said ominously. “This lady’s new in the village. It’s a new shop,” Ginny protested. “I don’t think she knows Harry.” “Everybody knows Harry,” Hermione snapped. “You know that. And how many girls our age have long red hair like yours? You Weasleys are the only ones at Hogwarts with hair that bright. Once anyone sees you and Harry together, they’ll easily recognize you as his girlfriend when you’re apart.” Ginny gulped and looked as if she were ready to cry. “You mean I. . . endangered him? And Ron?” Harry put his arm around her. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Gin. Don’t worry about it. We’re at war now. We all have to be careful about things. I don’t think I would’ve worried about a sample like that myself, honestly,” he comforted her, “although I can’t see me putting glitter on my shoulders,” he added with a chuckle, wrapping both arms around her and squeezing her gently. Ginny leaned her head against his chest, grateful he wasn’t blaming her as Hermione seemed to be doing. “Miss Granger may be right,” Madam Pomfrey said. “I’ll speak to Professor Dumbledore about having that shop checked out. Maybe the whole thing was innocent. Maybe Mr. Weasley had an honest allergic reaction to a chemical in the lotion. Redheads and blonds are often much more sensitive to allergens than those with dark hair. Or perhaps there was something in the potion intended to harm Mr. Potter. I’ll test the flagon to see if I can find traces of poisons. I’ll also take samples from you girls, but since the potion was in the form of a lotion, some of the chemicals may have leeched into your skin. The flagon will give me the truest sample. In the meantime, Mr. Weasley, if you feel well again, you may go.” “Really?” Ron was shocked. Madam Pomfrey rarely let anyone go so quickly. “Yes, really. I, for one, was enjoying the dance. It’s far from over, so I expect you four will enjoy the rest of it too, once you return to it,” she said kind-heartedly. After Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione used the hospital wing loos to wash off every trace of the sparkly potion, they were going to the Gryffindor Common Room so Ginny could retrieve the flagon the potion came in. She would give it to Madam Pomfrey in the Great Hall, to which the nurse had already returned. When Harry opened the hospital wing door so they could leave, they all stood still, staring in shock at Pansy Parkinson, whose face was blotchy from a long spell of crying. She had a bright red handprint on her face and an eye rapidly getting black, and she had sprouted a cow’s horns and tail. “What are you looking at?” she wailed at the four friends. The Gryffindors were all speechless for a few moments. Finally, Hermione spoke. “What happened, Pansy,” she asked kindly. “Did Malfoy hit you?” “Yes! And then he did THIS to me!” she cried, pointing to the horns coming out of her temples. “How do you feel?” Ginny asked, trying hard not to laugh. “How would you feel? You’ll never know. He’ll never hit you,” Pansy said, gesturing with jealous rage at Harry. “He’ll never hex you. And these bloody horns HURT!” Ginny took a step back uncertainly. She and Harry looked at each other, unsure what to say or do next. Ron was goggling at Pansy’s horns so much that Hermione poked him in the ribs to make him stop. “Where’s Madam Pomfrey?” Pansy demanded. “She’s already gone back down to the dance,” Hermione replied. “If you want to come in and wait, we’ll tell her you’re here.” “Oh, that’s just what I need, four Gryffindors telling everyone that Draco turned me into a cow!” Pansy cried, getting more and more upset. Harry stepped forward and put his hand on her arm. “Calm down. We won’t say anything like that. We don’t want to hurt you.” “Yeah, right, I’m supposed to believe that?” she retorted. “After all the years we’ve been sniping at each other?” “Come on in, let’s get you settled,” Ginny said as she led the girl into the room and helped her to a bed. “We’ll go tell Madam Pomfrey you’re here, all right?” “No, I’ll just wait until she returns,” Pansy said in a more subdued voice. “Um. . .” Hermione began. “What?” Harry asked. “Didn’t you tell me you read about a cow curse last week?” she asked Harry carefully. He, Dumbledore and Lupin had started working with the books he’d got from Ben Dervish, and the Cow Curse was one of the first spells in the book. The pages on the spell conveniently included the counter-spell, which Harry had also studied. “Oh, yeah! I did,” he replied, his face brightening. He turned back to Pansy. “I think I know how to reverse the spell Malfoy did,” he offered. “Do you want me to try?” “Why should I trust you?” she snapped. “OK, then, if you want to stay like that, it’s not my problem,” Harry replied calmly, shrugging as he turned to go. “No, wait!” Pansy cried. The Gryffindors turned to look at her, waiting quietly. “If. . .if you think you can. . .” she began. “I haven’t tried it yet, but I remember what to do,” Harry said. “I’ll only try it if you want me to, and there’s no guarantee it will work. Malfoy may have used a different curse than the one I studied.” Pansy looked at him seriously for a few moments, and then said, “Yes, please. Go ahead and try it. It can’t get much worse, can it?” Harry shrugged again. “We’ll see.” He pulled out his wand and gave it a small wave, muttering something under his breath. Instantly, Pansy’s horns and tail disappeared. “Oh, it worked! Thank you, thank you!” she cried, jumping up and acting as if she were about to hug him. At the last instant, she realized what she was doing and backed quickly away from him. “We don’t have to be enemies,” Harry said gently. “Just because Malfoy chooses to be an enemy rather than a friend doesn’t mean you have to do the same thing.” “You just don’t understand,” she said miserably. “But thank you. I mean that.” “You’re welcome.” Harry thought about removing the bruise from her face, but he wasn’t supposed to let anyone know he had that kind of power. “Madam Pomfrey will be able to heal your bruises quickly,” he offered. “I’m sorry I can’t do that for you.” “That’s all right. At least I don’t have those horns anymore,” she said with an attempt at a laugh. “Or the tail.” The four friends looked at each other uncomfortably. Now what should they do? Harry put his hand gently in the small of Ginny’s back and guided her toward the door. Hermione and Ron followed. “Good night, Pansy,” Hermione called back to the girl, who was staring after them. “Good night,” she replied with a small wave of her hand. When they arrived at the Gryffindor Common Room, the girls ran off to their dormitories to get the flagon and to make sure they’d removed all of the sparkly potion from their skin. They checked each other’s necks, shoulders and backs carefully to make certain they hadn’t missed any spots. The boys waited patiently in the Common Room for the girls to reappear. When the girls came down, bright-cheeked from the hard scrubbing they’d given themselves, they looked just as pretty as they had with all the glitter and makeup they’d had on before. “You look beautiful,” Ron told Hermione. “You didn’t need all that other stuff.” “Did you hear what he said?” Harry murmured to Ginny, bending low over her to keep their conversation private. “It goes double for you,” he whispered in her ear, making her giggle as his breath tickled her neck. He straightened up and took her arm as if the evening were just beginning. “Come on. I hear dancing can be fun if you have the right partner!” he said, leading the way out of the portrait hole. |
| Reviews 618 |
Previous Next
|
