28. Fight
The day did not get any better for Harry Potter.
Slughorn assigned them to work with the person next to them for the next eight weeks. They had to brew a complicated potion and write a joint essay on the experience. Harry nearly groaned aloud. Malfoy actually did. When Potions was finally over Harry had to endure a ranting Hermione who was livid that she was not permitted to do Muggle Studies.
“I don’t know what they think they are playing at,” she grumbled as she gathered her books up and shoved them ruthlessly into her bag.
“I’m going to find an owl,” muttered Ginny. She had a folded parchment in her hands and stomped out of the classroom before Harry could even say anything.
“Listen Hermione, what’s wrong with Ginny?”
“Trouble in paradise Potter?” asked Malfoy sardonically.
“Shut up Malfoy.”
“I mean, how can they decide, just like that based on bloodlines who does and doesn’t take a subject?” Hermione continued as if she had not heard Harry at all. “That’s not equality, it’s not even sensible, is it?” She looked up and pierced Malfoy with a glare. He looked startled at apparently being expected to be on the same side as Hermione Granger. He regained his equilibrium quickly and his indifferent sneer fell back into place.
“I really wouldn’t know,” he drawled lazily. “I’m not particularly thrilled at taking it myself but I have to apparently.” Hermione nodded emphatically, brandishing a quill in his face for emphasis as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. Malfoy took a step back and eyed Hermione and her quill suspiciously. Hermione appeared about to say something to Malfoy but perhaps she remembered they were still enemies because she turned to Harry suddenly.
“Harry!” she demanded sharply. “How do you feel about having to take Muggle Studies?”
“I hadn’t actually given it a lot of thought, Hermione,” Harry sighed wearily as he followed her out of the classroom. “I’ve been a bit preoccupied. I need to go and get my bag; I’ll see you later.” Harry turned to go up to his dormitory leaving Hermione still railing about injustices while managing to bring up House Elf rights. Malfoy was trying to edge away but Hermione kept talking.
Harry himself had to do some smooth talking to convince the
Fat Lady to let him into
By the time Harry skidded into the Muggle Studies classroom he was more than ten minutes late and breathing heavily. Ethel Crockwell was standing in the middle of the room; a pair of spectacles perched on her head, dressed in a ridiculous pink cardigan with bobbles on it. For a moment Harry was reminded horribly of Umbridge. She smiled at him and beckoned him into the room.
“Hurry up then,” she said. “Now which side of the room are you on?”
“Pardon?”
“Which side of the room, er, Mister …?” The entire class broke out in giggles. Harry looked at the woman exasperatedly. He wasn’t used to having to introduce himself and while it was a novel idea, he wasn’t in the mood today.
“Which side is which, then I can tell you where I belong,” he said instead. Professor Crockwell waved her hand vaguely to the right as she walked to her desk.
“Pureblood over there,” she said, reaching the desk and picking up a quill and waving it to the left. “Half-blood over here.” Harry just stood there.
“I beg your pardon?”
“If you’re not sure dear I can find out for you,” she said, smiling. “Now, let’s mark you off the roll.”
“Oh I’m half-blood,” Harry spat. “But why are we being separated into pure and half-blood?”
“So I can see how much you know dear,” the professor said patiently. “Now can I please mark you off the roll?”
“No, you may not,” said Harry in carefully measured tones. What Gilbert had been saying finally fell into place. “I am in this class because I am a half-blood, correct?” Professor Crockwell nodded slowly. It was evident she was not sure exactly what to make of this defiant young man.
“Yes,” she said, drawing herself up into lecture mode. “Anyone who is not a Muggleborn is required to take this class to make up for the filthy untruths spread by that ghastly Ministry last year. I’m not sure how much you understood of the fuss at the Ministry what with You-Know-Who and all last year, dear, but it was nasty business, nasty business indeed.”
“Quite,” Harry muttered dryly as the class burst into a fresh round of giggles. Harry caught sight of Draco Malfoy simply staring at the woman in horror.
“Now I really do need to find my glasses,” she muttered. “Haven’t had them all morning, been quite the ordeal. Has anybody seen them?” As soon as Susan Bones pointed them out to her, Professor Crockwell shook her head and plucked them from their perch. She began polishing them vigorously on the hem of her cardigan. Harry remained standing defiantly in the middle of the floor.
“Really young man, if you could just take a seat please, so we may continue …” Professor Crockwell trailed off as she adjusted her glasses on her nose and looked up at him.
“And why do you think our bloodline has anything to do with how much we know about Muggles?” was all Harry said as Professor Crockwell stood there speechless. “I understand plenty about the nasty business at the Ministry last year, Professor, and I’m beginning to wonder if we even learned anything.”
“Well we need to start somewhere Mr P-Potter,” said Professor Crockwell rather weakly.
“Wouldn’t it be best to get to know each of us individually then?” Harry challenged. “And shouldn’t Muggleborn students be in here too? They have a perspective you can rarely get from children who grew up in wizarding families.”
“Yes, well it was a little hard to-”
“There really aren’t that many Muggleborns,” said Harry harshly. “Somehow that segment of the population has diminished lately.” The class had stopped giggling and were watching Harry nervously.
“The Board only approved-”
“Nothing has changed,” said Harry coldly. “You’re still dividing people up based on their bloodlines!”
“You have to admit, Mr Potter, that those who know nothing about Muggles will be pureblood and half-bloods will have only a few antiquated ideas,” the professor seemed to have recovered her composure and was trying to get her class back on track.
“And you, I suppose, are the expert,” asked Harry sarcastically. Professor Crockwell drew herself up to her full height.
“I have a lot of experience with Muggles,” she said proudly. “In fact I was chosen for this position because no one else has more understanding of Muggles except Arthur Weasley and he’s a little busy right now.”
“You’ve just contradicted yourself, Professor. Arthur Weasley’s a pureblood,” said Harry quietly. “You can’t divide us up based on bloodline.” Ethel Crockwell looked flustered.
“We need to counter the injustices of the past year,” she began weakly, sounding as if she was reciting a prepared speech.
“But this is just perpetuating them,” Harry stood his ground, immovable. The woman sighed, defeated.
“What would you like me to do, Mr Potter?” she gazed at him curiously as if unsure whether to chastise him or let him continue.
“Well for a start I think Seamus should go and get Hermione and Dean and Justin,” said Harry. Seamus got out of his seat without being asked. “Really, can we not fit three extra students in here?”
“Four,” piped up a small blonde Ravenclaw who Harry thought must have been in Ginny’s year. “Ashton Grant’s Muggleborn.”
“Well go and get him then,” said Harry, motioning to the girl. She leapt out of her seat and followed Seamus out of the room.
“Now,” said Harry, “we get to know one another properly. Did you know I grew up with Muggles and may as well be Muggleborn?” Professor Crockwell sighed and sat down at her desk.
“This is so much more complicated than I thought it would be,” she said wearily. “I wanted to make Charity proud of me and I’ve just gone and messed it up.” Harry felt momentarily guilty for being so hard on the woman. She didn’t seem to be causing harm intentionally. It was obvious; however, that no one had yet drawn the conclusions which Harry had.
“Nothing is messed up yet,” he said. “But we can’t go on like this. We’ve got to stop categorising people this way.” Professor Crockwell nodded slowly just as Seamus burst back into the room, Dean and Justin on his heels.
“Sorry mate, couldn’t find Hermione,” Seamus said as the three of them filed into the room. Harry, who had a sneaking suspicion that he might know where, or rather who Hermione was with, just shrugged.
“Never mind, she can make it up in her sleep,” he laughed as he followed Dean and Justin to a seat next to Neville, Luna and two other Gryffindors whom Harry recognised only vaguely. It was then that Harry noticed Ginny wasn’t in the room. Frowning he scanned the room but saw only Draco Malfoy looking peeved and several students swinging on their chairs out of sheer boredom. Professor Crockwell was shuffling pieces of parchment on her desk as if organising her thoughts when the blonde Ravenclaw and her classmate wandered back in.
“If we are all here then,” said Professor Crockwell, “we shall begin. Now we’ll have to adjust the lesson a bit, dears, as I erm… had it set up a little differently but I am sure we shall all get along just fine.” Harry smiled encouragingly at her and the class began with people explaining where they came from and the sorts of games they had played as a child.
Harry tuned them all out and set his mind to worrying about where Ginny might be. Halfway through the class, while Dean and Justin were explaining a particularly tricky move in football, Harry silently slipped out of the classroom. He wasn’t sure if the teacher saw him go, nor did he care if she had.
He strode down the corridor purposefully, attempting to look as if he was meant to be exactly where he was. As soon as he came to a secluded alcove he darted inside and rummaged about in his bag for the Marauders’ Map. Finding it he dropped his bag on the floor and went to get out his wand but a muffled squawk made him pause.
“Why did you two have to pick this alcove to snog in?” he asked exasperatedly, without turning around.
“Why did you have to skulk into it?” hissed Ron. “Why aren’t you in class anyway?” Harry did not answer, merely got out his wand and, touching it to the parchment he activated the map and cast a Lumos in order to read it. Ron and Hermione joined him looking over the map in the darkened alcove.
“Who are you looking for?” asked Hermione.
“Ginny,” Harry replied grimly.
“Again?” growled Ron. “Where’s she gone this time?”
“If I knew that, Ron, I wouldn’t be looking for her!”
“Shhhhhhhhh! Keep your voices down! None of us are supposed to be here!”
“What are they gonna do, Hermione?”
“I daresay Professor McGonagall would have something to say about the Head Boy out of class and in an alcove with the Head Girl and someone who was supposed to have left the grounds hours ago,” replied Hermione waspishly.
“Admit it, you’re glad I stayed,” Ron said in a low voice. Hermione actually giggled. Harry, having found Ginny walking back from the Owlery, folded up the map briskly. As he stepped out of the alcove and made his way down the corridor he did not think Ron and Hermione realised he was gone.
Harry met Ginny ambling back to the castle, her shoulders hunched and her hands stuffed in her pockets. She only looked slightly startled to see him. Harry raised his eyebrows at her. She smiled at him but Harry could tell she was preoccupied.
“Shouldn’t you be in class?” she asked as he reached her and stood facing her; his hands in his own pockets.
“Shouldn’t you?” he countered. She shrugged.
“Had to send a letter,” she replied.
“Sorry, I sent
“That’s okay. I used a school owl.” There was a long pause. Neither said anything and neither moved.
“D’you think we’ll get in trouble for skiving Muggle Studies?” asked Ginny eventually. Harry grimaced.
“I doubt the woman could tell if we were there or not. She’s probably almost as batty as Trelawney,” replied Harry with a smile. “Heart’s in the right place. Woeful execution though.”
“What did she do?” And with that they moved together towards the castle. Harry didn’t even think about it or consciously decide to do it, they just did. He reached out and entwined his fingers with Ginny’s as they walked back to the castle.
“Well, you know she left Muggleborns off the class lists?” Ginny nodded and Harry continued. “She tried to separate people according to bloodlines under the mistaken impression that this could tell her how much people would know.”
“That’s ridiculous,” huffed Ginny. “Dad knows more about Muggles than your average wizard. It’s got nothing to do with your bloodline.” Harry shrugged.
“S’what I told her,” he said as they approached the steps leading to the Entrance Hall.
“Did you really?” asked Ginny curiously. Harry shrugged again and grunted in the affirmative. Ginny laughed. “You made her restructure her class didn’t you?”
“Maybe,” Harry mumbled, pushing open the great oak doors.
“Brilliant!”
“What’s brilliant exactly?” Ron was standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall, his arms crossed over his chest, scowling at his sister.
“Well, not you, obviously,” Ginny retorted.
“You are then, are you?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I am,” said Ginny, staring at her brother defiantly.
“What on earth is g-” started Harry, but Ron ignored him and began stalking towards Ginny.
“Are you?” he questioned her softly, almost menacingly. “Are you brilliant? Or are you just covering it up?”
“What are you on about, Ron?” Ginny sighed wearily.
“Someone who’s brilliant doesn’t take off for Merlin knows where at the drop of a hat!” bellowed Ron quite suddenly.
“Oh, what’s it got to do with you anyway?” spat Ginny. Harry noticed Hermione skid to a stop as she came into the Entrance Hall from the direction of the Grand Staircase. Her eyes were wide and she gasped as she covered her mouth with her hand.
“Everything, Ginny!” Ron sputtered. “Do you know what it’s like to be fire-called in the middle of the night by your very worried girlfriend because your bloody sister has gone missing?”
“Well, we knew she was on school grounds-” Hermione supplied but suddenly Ginny made a vicious hissing sound at Ron.
“I didn’t ask anyone to call you,” she ground out. “I didn’t ask for anyone to do anything.”
“No! You didn’t!” shouted Ron. “And that’s half the bloody problem, isn’t it? You’re just going to keep it all bottled up inside until you explode. Have you got any idea what that does to people? You better bloody well start talking to people Ginny!”
“I do talk to people, Ron,” argued Ginny. “Just cause I don’t talk to you doesn’t mean I don’t talk to people.”
“Oh yeah and just which people were you talking to exactly?” asked Ron sarcastically. “Considering no one knew where you were and I had Hermione calling me in tears ‘cause you’d vanished and Harry was going mental, both of you missing! I’d say you’re not doing a smashing job of it, are you?”
“Relax, Ron, Harry found me,” sighed Ginny wearily.
“Not until he’d gone half mad with worry!”
“Really, Ron, I’m fine,” protested Harry indignantly. He was ignored by both Weasley siblings.
“Don’t you care at all about the people who care about you?” asked Ron. “Why would you put them through this?”
“Your concern for me is overwhelming, Ron,” sad Ginny sarcastically. “So really, you don’t care what sort of trauma I suffer as long as I don’t inflict any worry on your precious friends!”
“Yes, well I’m not here am I? How am I supposed to know how they are?” asked Ron, rather too loudly in Harry’s opinion.
“Is this about me or you three?” Ginny asked pointedly, “because if you guys need a moment I can leave you alone.” Harry’s head was whirling, trying to figure precisely what Ron was angry about. He didn’t know about anyone else but he needed a moment.
“Ginny-”
“Ron, really, I think you’re reading a bit much into it all,” interrupted Hermione.
“Well you’re the one who called me, Hermione,” he said without turning around.
“You didn’t have to come charging through the Floo,” said Hermione weakly.
“Oh I was supposed to leave you, worried out of your mind with only Neville there?” Ron sounded distinctly amused until he turned around to see Ginny’s wand trained on him. Harry didn’t even know when she’d taken it out.
“Don’t you dare say Neville isn’t capable of supporting anyone,” Ginny hissed threateningly. “You always underestimate him.”
“Oh, really and you’d know would you, Ginny?” Ron said, staring at her wand as if it were nothing more than an innocuous stick. “Get plenty of support from Neville last year, did you?”
“Oh, don’t be so ridiculous.”
“Harry’s safely out of the way so you grab whatever’s going next?”Ron’s eyes were wild and accusing.
“Ron,” said Harry warningly, knowing just how close to the bone he was cutting. He moved to stand between the two of them but Ron just continued his hurtful accusations.
“People shouldn’t just move on like that because they are away from someone,” he threw out. “Where’s your Gryffindor loyalty?”
“Oh, where is your brain, Ron?” Ginny laughed at him, her wand never wavered. “I didn’t move on from anyone. I’m not the one who’s shown that particular tendency. Maybe you’re just worried people are going to move on from you!”
“Well, it happens!”
“Well it’s not happening to you. I think you’re delusional!” Ginny said, her voice quieter now. “If you think for one minute that these guys don’t miss you every minute then you’re stupid.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” retorted Ron. “Everyone always gets along fine without Ron. What about Ron, huh? Does he get along fine without everyone else?”
“Clearly not, if this little display is anything to go by,” muttered Ginny. “Y’seem a bit mental to me. Maybe Ron’s decided to move on, abandon his friends before they abandon him!” It was quicker than Harry had ever seen and he wasn’t sure when it happened exactly, but Ron had his wand out before Harry could blink. Hermione gasped in shock.
“What the-” But before he could get a sentence out an orange spell whizzed past Ginny’s left ear and Harry had a strange feeling of deja vu.
“Don’t you even think that!” Ron shouted.
“Then why are you thinking it?” Ginny bellowed back. “Why would you think they would move on without you? Because that isn’t who they are, is it? It’s who you are.”
It happened so quickly, there was no time to get out his wand. Cursing himself for not having it out already when standing between two people with their wands trained on each other, he moved to try and block Ron’s spell from Ginny. Harry didn’t see the spell she cast in retaliation.
In the aftermath of her hex, Harry stumbled straight into the path of Ron’s Leg Locker Curse. As he fell, Harry caught the edge of Hermione’s Petrificus Totalus which he could only assume was her attempt to create some order out of the chaos that had erupted.
With his body frozen and falling and his hands unable to protect himself, Harry was almost grateful for the darkness that overtook him when he hit his head on the cold flagstones of the Entrance Hall as he fell. At least that oblivion provided him sweet relief from the Bat Bogeys.
*******************
A low murmuring thrummed in the background even as a loud pounding reverberated in his skull. There was a dull ache behind his eyes that warned him not to open them. As the pounding gradually slowed and receded Harry became more aware of his surroundings as new experiences began to assault his senses.
His fingers were resting on something prickly and he could smell the tang of a dozen different potions on the air. His head lay on a starched pillow and the bed he was lying on was hard and narrow. The Hospital Wing.
Harry’s mouth was dry and woolly, just a hint of bitterness lingered. He swallowed reflexively, the dryness making the lump in his throat hard to shift. Harry titled his head a little and let out an involuntary groan. He brought his hands up to cradle his head when a brisk voice shrieked like a siren, making him wince.
“Ah good, you have rejoined us.” Cool hands began to probe his head and Madam Pomfrey began to fire questions at him. What was his name? What was the date? Did he know where he was?
Finally she stopped her ministrations and Harry cracked an eye open to see what she was doing. A grim smile plastered on her face, Madam Pomfrey was weaving her wand in a complex pattern above his head.
“Right!” she proclaimed suddenly. “Drink this!” She thrust a beaker at him and Harry, startled by how suddenly it had appeared, drank it in one large gulp. He grimaced at the aftertaste and made a gagging sound.
There’s water on the bedside table, Potter,” said Madam Pomfrey briskly. “Now if you hurry you can catch most of your double Herbology lesson.”
The throbbing in his head almost gone, Harry sat fully upright gingerly and straightened his glasses. Madam Pomfrey turned around.
“I don’t want to see you in my hospital wing again, Mr Potter,” she said. “Please stay out of danger!” Her hands trembled as she gathered up the potion bottles on his bedside table and Harry got the impression that the woman had been shaken by seeing him unconscious so early in the term.
“I don’t do it on purpose,” he muttered a little belligerently as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed. The school nurse only harrumphed. Harry reached gingerly for his shoes.
“And you might send those three outside on their way when you leave.”
“Aren’t you going to try and keep me here?” asked Harry cheekily. Madam Pomfrey eyed him carefully.
“I know better than to try that,” she replied. “Not only would you resist such a course of action, but I think you’ve proven you’re a bit tougher than a bump on the head. Just come straight back if you start seeing double.” In a sudden and brief show of tenderness the nurse patted him gently on the knee and Harry caught the tear glistening in her eye as she turned around. He had a suspicion that Madam Pomfrey had been more upset by his mishap than she was letting on.
“Off you go, Potter,” she barked on her way to her office. “Stop dilly-dallying!” Harry smiled and finished tying his shoes. He checked his wand was still in his pocket, grabbed his bag and headed to the door without a second glance. As he pushed the doors open he discovered the source of the murmuring. Hermione, Neville and Luna were leaning on the wall outside the Hospital Wing, talking quietly.
“Not like you to skive off Herbology, Neville,” he said as the doors swung shut behind him. Neville looked up with a start and Hermione dropped her bag and threw herself on his neck.
“Are you all right, Harry?” she asked. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to get you! I was trying to get Ron, the great idiot. I never meant to hit you at all!”
“Don’t worry about it Hermione,” Harry said gently as he disengaged her arms from the chokehold they had on his neck. “But next time can you cast a Protego instead?” Hermione blushed profusely.
“I’m fine,” Harry assured her.
“That’s good, Harry. We were ever so worried,” Luna said. “You really do need to stay conscious, I think. It scares people when you lay limp and unmoving on the floor.” Harry didn’t quite know what to say to that so he just nodded.
“Let’s get to class,” said Neville, breaking the unnerving silence that fell after Luna spoke. Hermione nodded briskly and Luna turned immediately in the direction of the greenhouses.
“Not that I am not pleased to see you all, but where are Ginny and Ron?” Harry asked as Hermione gathered her bag and the four of them set off for Herbology.
“Well I’m not exactly sure,” Hermione said nervously. “Professor McGonagall sent them both to her office while she levitated you to the Hospital Wing. We’ve not seen them since.”
“We followed her,” added Luna helpfully.
“Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t let us in though,” said Hermione quietly.
“McGonagall tried to get us to leave the Hospital Wing doors,” added Neville, “for about five minutes.”
“But she refused to answer Hermione’s questions about Ronald and Ginevra,” said Luna. “I suspect they have gotten into terrible trouble. Professor McGonagall was so cross. She was almost purple you know.”
“She was,” said Neville worriedly. “She took twenty points from Ginny for duelling in the Entrance Hall. She tried to take twenty from Ron as well but the counters refused to do it so she took them from you instead.” Harry laughed.
“It’s not funny,” Hermione scolded. “Ginny’s probably got detention for a week! Ron would have, too, if he was still here. Mrs Weasley will probably ground him.”
“She can’t do that, he’s an adult,” protested Harry.
“Oh, I think you’ll find she can!” retorted Hermione as they pushed open the door to outside and went down the steps towards greenhouse four. “Why would you defend him? He tried to hex your girlfriend! He did hex you!”
“So did you, Hermione,” pointed out Harry. “So did my girlfriend. Between the three of you, I think you nearly accomplished something Voldemort never could manage.” Harry laughed as he pushed open the door to the greenhouse but he was the only one. The rest of the greenhouse fell silent and Hermione went pale.
“I don’t think that was very funny, Harry,” said Luna matter-of-factly. “You may want to work on your jokes a little more. Maybe ask Seamus. He tells good jokes.” She floated away to join a fellow Ravenclaw at one of the tables and Professor Sprout cleared her throat, motioning the three Gryffindors to a space at one of the tables and continuing her lecture on Fluttering Fireweed.
When the lesson was finally over, more than one person having been scorched by ill timed repotting, the seventh year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws clattered out of the greenhouse and back to the castle for lunch. Ginny had never turned up to Herbology but Professor Sprout was a little more astute than Professor Crockwell and Harry did not get a chance to sneak out and find her.
“Where do you suppose Ginny has been all this time?” asked Neville as they neared the castle doors. Harry shrugged.
“McGonagall must have had something to say,” he muttered, shouldering open the door and stomping inside.
“Indeed I do, Mr Potter.” Harry looked up, startled to see Professor McGonagall standing in the corridor as if she had been waiting for him. It was lunch time and students milled around the corridors, heading for the Great Hall, catching up with friends they had not seen in the last period.
“I’m really sorry about before,” started Harry. “I know you told me no fighting and I know it looks like I was but-”
“Are you quite all right now, Potter?” the Headmistress asked him. Harry nodded. “Good, I did not fancy facing Molly Weasley’s wrath if I had to Floo and tell her otherwise. Potter, if I might see you for a moment, in my office?” Harry smiled slightly and nodded. Hermione shifted anxiously.
“Professor … er, where did Ginny go?” she asked, fiddling awkwardly with the strap on her bag.
“Miss Weasely,” said McGonagall softly, and not unkindly, “had some family business to attend to. She will no doubt be along presently. I trust you are ready for your class after lunch?” Harry noticed her lips twitch a little as she said it and he realised that their first Defence class was after lunch. Neville nodded enthusiastically and Luna gave a dreamy sort of sigh.
“Oh I do hope it is better than last year,” she said. “Last year it wasn’t very fun at all. And the teacher was quite unattractive. He just wasn’t a nice person, was he Neville?” She turned her protuberant eyes to Neville expectantly.
“I am sure you will find your supervisor quite amenable, Miss Lovegood,” was all Professor McGonagall said as she turned with a swish of tartan. Hermione was still twisting her bag strap worriedly when Professor McGonagall turned around suddenly. “Miss Granger, when you see him, please be sure to tell Mr Weasely that should he wish to visit in the future, the Gryffindor common room fireplace will be available every second Saturday, starting next week, during daylight hours only.”
“Thank you, professor,” said Hermione weakly.
“Come along, Potter,” said McGonagall briskly, her abrupt change of tone startling all four students. “If you hurry along you’ll make it back in time to eat lunch.” Harry obediently fell into step behind her as she moved away.
Professor McGonagall said nothing as they made their way up to the gargoyle guarding her office. There was a dull ache making its presence felt at the base of Harry’s skull and he gingerly touched the back of his head and winced. Madam Pomfrey had done an excellent job but his scalp was still tender.
“Lemon Drop,” said McGonagall as she reached the gargoyle. She must have sensed Harry’s surprise because she paused before stepping onto the staircase and said simply. “It gives me strength.” Harry nodded as he followed her up. He could see how that worked.
Professor McGonagall pushed open the heavy doors and entered her office, Harry trailing after her. He stood uncertainly in the middle of the room as the professor strode to her desk and searched through the parchment on top. Professor Dumbledore was asleep in his portrait frame, his painted chest rising and falling evenly. Harry just watched him for a moment while he waited for Professor McGonagall to reveal why she had asked him here.
“He still sleeps a lot lately,” McGonagall said quietly a moment later. Harry hadn’t noticed her stop searching her desk and come to stand by him. She had a scroll of parchment in her hands and gazed up at the portrait with him. “Still, it’s comforting to have him here. They all give good advice to a greenhorn like me.” She waved vaguely around at the circular room. Harry noticed that the all the former headmasters and headmistresses were watching him. He gave a self conscious little wave.
“That must be why they are here,” said Harry thoughtfully. “Remember when Umbridge couldn’t get in? She obviously wasn’t seen as a real Headmistress, so the castle wouldn’t let her in, give her access to this office.” He stopped suddenly, his brow furrowed.
“You may be right, Potter,” Professor McGonagall nodded. “Only a true Head can access the combined wisdoms contained in this room.”
“So,” said Harry thoughtfully. “If only true Heads can even get in here, then they earn the right to have a portrait up there.” He gestured to the walls above his head vaguely. McGonagall nodded.
“They’re all up there,” she said.
“No they aren’t,” said Harry softly. “Snape’s not there.” Professor McGonagall looked startled.
“Snape?” she asked, her nose wrinkling a little. “I wouldn’t have thought-”
“He had access to this office didn’t he?” asked Harry. “He belongs up there.” Harry shifted uncomfortably under his professor’s gaze as she eyed him closely.
“You and Severus never got along, Potter,” she said eventually.
“I know.”
“I confess I did not expect you to react to Severus the way you have recently,” McGonagall said quietly as they both contemplated Dumbledore’s sleeping form. “You’ve grown up, Potter. You’ve really grown up.”
“I tried to fight it, I promise,” said Harry, grinning. Professor McGonagall smiled at him fondly.
“I’m sure you still have a few boyish tricks up your sleeve,” she said and Harry thought he caught a twinkle in her eye but it vanished in an instant. “Do try not to get caught.” Harry stifled a smirk.
“Should be easier this year, Professor,” he said solemnly. “Snape’s not lurking around every corner trying to catch me out of bed.” He thought he caught her smile before her mask was back in place and her lips pressed firmly together in a thin, disapproving line.
“Do be wary of Professor Fiesche,” she said suddenly. Harry looked at her in confusion.
“Who?”
“The Defence professor,” she said and the way her mouth twisted betrayed her feelings for the man. “Despite his own ridiculous constraints, he’s a little … put out that he isn’t teaching seventh year Defence. I can’t quite put my finger on it …” Harry sighed heavily.
“Why is it always about the Defence professor?” he whined. Professor McGonagall chuckled slightly before handing him the scroll in her hand.
“Your class list,” she said kindly. “Just mark the red tape … er roll, and make sure they don’t destroy the classroom.” Harry took the scroll from her carefully as if it might explode.
“Good Luck, Harry,” came a familiar voice from the wall. Harry looked up to see Professor Dumbledore’s portrait had woken and was smiling at him, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Thanks Professor,” he said and he knew that Dumbledore and McGonagall knew he meant both of them. Professor McGonagall patted him on the shoulder before she walked briskly back to her desk.
“Off to lunch then, Potter,” she said. “I’m sure you have the means to find Miss Weasley on your way back to the Great Hall.” She sat down and busied herself with paperwork. Harry took this as his dismissal and waved to Dumbldore’s portrait before slipping out of the room. He had unfolded the map and located Ginny before the staircase spilled him back out into the corridor. He was surprised to find Ron with her but not surprised to find out that they were outside the Hospital Wing.
Harry ambled along the corridor to the Hospital Wing. He spotted Ron and Ginny, huddled together on the floor, opposite the door. Any thought he had of sneaking up on them was erased when he saw how pale Ginny was as she sat with her arm around Ron, whose shoulders were shaking violently.
Ron was crying. Ron almost never cried. Ron got angry. Harry’s steps faltered and he stood several feet away, unsure what to do. Ginny’s soft voice floated to him in the stillness.
“I’m sorry Ron,” she said. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.” Ron sniffed and raised his head.
“I know, you’ve said. Stop apologising,” he said, a wan smile on his face. “I’m pathetic.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and Ginny smiled slightly.
“Well, you’re not going to get any argument from me about that,” she said solemnly. She sounded serious but Harry knew she wasn’t.
“I hate being away from them,” Ron said in a small voice.
“It was less than a day,” Ginny sounded amused but Ron turned a solemn face to look at her.
“Did Harry tell you I ran out on them, last year, before Christmas?”
“No,” Ginny shook her head slowly. “But Bill did. I knew he was hiding something. I made him tell me.”
“Stupidest thing I ever did,” muttered Ron.
“It’s a tough contest,” Ginny deadpanned and received a shove to her shoulder. They were silent for a moment.
“George came home drunk last night,” Ron said eventually, tracing a pattern on the worn flagstones of the corridor with one index finger. “He wasn’t late, just drunk. Something went wrong on this date he had. He’s going out with a different witch every night.” Ginny sat quietly, waiting for her brother to continue. Harry saw her hands shake as she plucked at an invisible piece of dirt on her robes.
“It’s not the way to deal with it,” she said quietly.
“I know,” Ron tilted his head back to rest on the wall behind him. “Mum pretends it’s not happening. He staggered in last night and knocked over four chairs before vomiting into the fireplace and she just offered him a hot chocolate. She didn’t even clean up his spew. George just started crying and then she dropped the whole jug of milk so Dad took her up to bed.
“There I am, sitting in my mother’s kitchen, trying to find a Sobering Charm in one of her books while my brother sobs brokenly all over the kitchen table. It’s not how I imagined being eighteen and finished with school would be like. I just wished I’d come back to school instead, right at that moment; someone to tell me what to do, rules, regulations. I thought I’d be hanging out with Hermione between going to Auror training with Harry. I should be conning Fred and George into giving me free Wheezes.
“Instead I’m making sure George doesn’t go insane with loneliness and that the shop stays open. He has more down days than you all know. He hides it from everyone except me. I think he’s trying to protect everyone. I’ve never seen him so drunk, though. Before … I’ve always dragged him quietly to bed; he just falls asleep. I’ve never needed a Sobering Charm before. Flitwick doesn’t teach you those at Hogwarts. I’m surprised I didn’t Obliviate him really; although maybe he’d prefer that.”
“I think sometimes we all would,” sighed Ginny. “But then we wouldn’t even remember Fred. I think that’d be worse. I was talking to Mrs Granger last week. She said that last year they always felt like they were missing something and never could quite figure out what it was.”
“He kept crying, after he was sober,” continued Ron. “I dunno, I thought he was … over it. Not over Fred’s death, I don’t think he’s ever going to get over that. But over the crying thing; he’s had a good week, things were looking up. He must have just been bottling things up.” Ron sighed and ran his hands through his hair.
“What set him off?” asked Ginny.
“Angelina,” replied Ron, shifting to stare fixedly at the Hospital Wing doors. Ginny looked at him questioningly. Ron didn’t reply for a moment, staring at the doors. Eventually he spoke. “He ran into Angelina while he was out with Bridget … or Bridie … might have been Beatrice. She broke up with Lee. I don’t know if George was cursing her for betraying Fred’s memory or something – or for breaking Lee’s heart. It was hard to tell.” Ginny shrugged.
“Fred told me at Auntie Muriel’s that they were on a break again,” she supplied. “I think she was seeing Lee since Easter.”
“Well I did get out of George that he ditched this Bonnie person and he and Angelina spent a couple hours drowning half a million sorrows at The Hogs Head. We were in the kitchen for ages; took me an hour to find a Sobering Charm and another half hour to make it work. Then he just started talking, and talking and talking. He kept wailing something about never getting over Fred and missed chances or something, I don’t know. He passed out right about the time Hermione Floo’ed me in tears saying you were missing and Harry had gone after you and not come back.
“I just … I dunno, I couldn’t even think straight anymore. She told me she was fine, Neville was keeping her company and you’d probably both be back soon. I couldn’t bear it. Mum was ignoring what was going on right under her nose and now Hermione’s telling me ‘it’ll all be fine’. I had all these visions of you losing it like George ‘cause you’ve been bottling things up. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I just felt so helpless.
“Hermione was crying and I was angry at you for making her cry and angry at myself because I couldn’t be there for her. And I was jealous of Neville because he was there for her, worried about Harry because he would do anything for you and instead of telling him what was wrong you just ran off. He’s been through so much and I just want him to be happy, you know, not worrying about someone every minute.
“And it was just like second year when you didn’t tell anyone, Ginny. What about if it was too late by the time you asked for help? You were going to turn out just like George – an utter mess. He’s a mess, Ginny. It breaks my heart. I was so angry at you because I can’t worry about more than one of you at a time. I just … I’m lost. They’re my best friends and without them it’s … imagine how George feels. He can’t even Floo through to Fred in the middle of the night and set off all the alarms in the Headmistresses’ office.”
“Is that what happened?’ asked Ginny quietly. Ron nodded, drawing his knees up to his chest.
“Yeah, Snape alarmed all the entry points into the castle last year, like Floos and whatnot,” he said. “I didn’t know. I was standing on the hearthrug arguing with Hermione when she just breezed in and it was like she didn’t even bat an eyelid. ‘In my office, now, Mr Weasley’ she says. ‘And you two; follow me.’ She didn’t even ask what I was doing there or even look surprised!” Ginny laughed softly.
“I guess almost nothing startles her now, she’s been teaching so long.”
“When we got to her office she asked what I was doing there and what Hermione and Neville what they were doing out of bed,” Ron added. “Neville said something about getting up early to study but I don’t think McGonagall believed him. I mean classes hadn’t even started. Not even Hermione’s ever been that keen, let alone Neville.”
“Did she know Harry and I were missing?”
“No,” Ron shook his head. “Hermione told her we’d set up a secret meeting but you could tell she didn’t believe her either. She just gave the three of us a lecture. It was pretty mild. Then she told me I should stay and settle my mind and that you, being a Weasley, would be down to breakfast. She’d have the House Elves set another place. She knew why I was there. I think she assumed you were in bed though.”
“You knew where we were though,” said Ginny suddenly. “How did you do that? Can you see through Invisibility Cloaks?” Ron laughed, loudly this time.
“I could see your feet!” he chortled. Ginny shook her head. Ron continued to laugh helplessly, slightly hysterically Harry thought. He felt a bit guilty for eavesdropping and wondered how he could make his presence known without scaring them both. Ron continued to laugh.
“Have you had any sleep?” Ginny asked him shrewdly. Ron shook his head.
“Got about an hour on the common room couch,” he said ruefully. “Some Puddlemere-worshipping git is in my bed.”
“Toby Watson,” supplied Ginny helpfully. “Most prized possession; Oliver Wood’s signature, best friend; Felix R Josephs – don’t forget the R.” Ron grunted.
“Seamus and Dean woke me up by jumping on me,” he added. “We decided to let Harry sleep. I think we all know what time you came in last night. Were you two up all night?” Ginny blushed a little.
“No, we were in Hagrid’s cabin with Dora,” she admitted. “We fell asleep.”
“Is that what you young people call it these days,” said Ron, affecting the shuddery speech of an old man. Ginny nudged him with her shoulder.
“Shut up, we really did!” Ron just grinned at her before sobering slightly.
“He deserves to be happy, Ginny.”
“I know,” his sister replied. “He is … apart from the whole hexing him thing …” She trailed off and Harry saw a grimace pass over both their faces.
“He’s going to be all right isn’t he?” Ginny asked plaintively and Ron folded his lanky arms around his sister.
“He’ll be fine,” he said softly. “Always is; takes a bit more than a stray hex or three to take out Harry Potter.” Ron and Ginny didn’t hear Harry’s footsteps as he approached.
“I can’t believe we hexed him …”
“I can’t believe Hermione didn’t use Protego,” Ron shook his head.
“That’s what I told her,” Harry said.
Ginny’s reaction was immediate. Before Harry had time to blink she’d scrambled to her feet and thrown herself at him. Harry winced as she threw her arms around his neck and accidentally thumped him in the back of the head where it was still tender.
“You’re all right, you’re all right,” she kept repeating.
“I will be if you stop hitting my head,” Harry grumbled good-naturedly as she knocked his ear trying to squeeze him tighter. Ginny pulled away, mumbling an apology which Harry swiftly cut off with a kiss.
“Stop that,” Ron groaned. He too had risen to his feet and was standing awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. Harry just grinned at him.
“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Ginny said. “I didn’t mean to hex you, I was aiming for Ron.”
“And I was aiming for her,” Ron added sheepishly. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Madam Pomfrey let me go about an hour ago,” Harry replied, nodding. He looked from Ron to Ginny. “I guess you two have been sorting out your differences properly, then?”
“Yeah, we have,” answered Ginny softly. “Ron was a bit worried about us and under a bit of pressure at home, that’s all.”
“I heard,” Harry said softly. Ron shrugged.
“We’ll get by,” he said, scuffing at the floor with his foot. “I’m really sorry, mate.” Harry shook his head.
“You’d think I’d know better by now that to stand in between the two of you with your wands drawn,” he laughed.
“Probably not the smartest thing you’ve ever done,” agreed Ron.
“So, you’re not here to beat me to a pulp for staying out all night with your sister?” queried Harry, gesturing that they should go. He scooped up Ginny’s bag and slung it over his shoulder with his own. With his other hand he reached out and entwined his fingers with hers.
“Nah,” said Ron, “I’m hoping you won me the bet.” He grinned cheekily at them and Harry turned a violent shade of red.
“Ron!” protested Ginny sharply.
“I don’t know how you all think you’ll even be able to know who wins this bet,” said Harry conversationally, his embarrassment receding. “Do you expect me to waltz up to you lot and let you know at which point I deflowered your sister?”
“Harry!” Ginny stared at him incredulously.
“We planned to get you pissed,” grinned Ron. Ginny just shook her head. She started to pull away from Harry; her cheeks stained a brilliant red. Harry pulled her back to him, winding his free arm around her waist and stopping in the middle of the corridor.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her head. “We shouldn’t joke about it.” Ginny nodded into his chest where she’d buried her face. Ron cleared his throat.
“I might just go find Hermione, say goodbye,” he said. “I’ll see you guys next Hogsmeade weekend.” Harry remembered what Professor McGonagall had said.
“Might be sooner, Hermione’s got a surprise for you,” he said, smiling.
“Take care of yourself Ron,” said Ginny suddenly, lifting her head. Ron nodded and then surprised Harry by stepping forward swiftly and embracing them both for a brief moment before he pulled away and quickly jogged off down the corridor in the direction of the Great Hall.