Disclaimer: There was once a girl who wrote fanfics and IcyPanther was her name-O! I-C-Y-P-A-N-T-H-E-R! I-C-Y-P-A-N-T-H-E-R! I-C-Y-P-A-N-T-H-E-R! And IcyPanther was her name-O! There was a girl who wrote fanfics and IcyPanther was her name-O! -clap- C-Y-P-A-N-T-H-E-R! -clap- C-Y-P-A-N-T-H-E-R! -clap- C-Y-P-A-N-T-H-E-R! And IcyPanther was her name-O! There was a girl who wrote annoying disclaimers and IcyPanther was her name-O! The reason she wrote them was because she didn’t own Harry Potter. (And that just lost my tune, but you’re probably sick of it now anyways- and yup, that is a word.)
A/N- Hai, I know it’s weird for me to pop up before the chapter, but I need to let you all know something. This last chapter seemed to be the most controversial chapter. Some of you loved it, some of you thought it was a bit extreme, and one person downright hated it. I’m sorry for that, but here’s the reason why it was like that.
As I said, I wasn’t feeling well. To cheer me up, I was writing anything that made me laugh. And as a result, the last chapter was what you got. I was running a fever, now that I think about it, while I was writing most of it so I’m afraid I got a little carried away.
Also, many wonder how a little girl could manage to beat two sixteen-year-old boys up. Well, it’s pretty simple. They’re not trying to attack back or hurt her, and they’re doing a pretty bad job of defending, so it is possible for her to inflict damage. Many of you asked where I based Hermione off of. Truth tell…me. :P I wasn’t as bad as her (since I didn’t know about magic) but I was always picking fights and beating up this boy named Mike Klein (who’s a twin too.) We’d always get into fights and our twins would just watch us try to tear each other apart…normally, I won.
So basically, it is possible. Yes, last chapter was a bit extreme and I already gave the reason for that. This chapter, in the beginning, Hermione will be quite wild, but she’ll tone down at the end after learning a ‘lesson’.
So, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and you can look for a calmer Hermione in later chapters (although she’ll still be a little youkai!)
Parenting Class
The Food that Teaches: Jell-O
It took a while to get everything running and back in order. Pomfrey had Harry and Draco both lie down so she could give them some of her potions (much to both of their displeasure) and rewrap some of their previous injuries.
Hermione was set down in the ‘time out’ corner on chair and glared sullenly at the nurse as she treated Draco and Harry, only staying because of the threat that she’d be stuck there all day and they’d physically glue her to it.
As it was, she did stay there all the way until lunch as Draco rested in bed and Harry, after being released, went back to their common room to tidy it up and comfort his poor puppy, who last they saw was cowering beneath the armchair.
“I’m bored,” she whined at half past noon, the lunch cart having come and gone and her interest in the food fading as soon as her stomach was full. “Can’t I get off of this chair?”
“No,” Draco said firmly, sitting in his bed and reading the chapter on the lesson he’d missed in Transfiguration, his homework for Charms (the class he was missing while sitting in the Hospital Wing) on the nightstand next to him.
“Can’t I read a book? Please, Draco?”
The Slytherin hesitated. Sure, she had nearly killed him, injured Harry, traumatized the Transfiguration class, destroyed Dumbledore’s beard, and turned several people into toads…but she was just a little girl and she was bored. And he already felt somewhat guilty about making her sit in the chair for over four hours…
‘No…be strong. Pull yourself together, Malfoy. You’re a Slytherin. You won’t give in.’ And then, Hermione pulled the one trick that made Draco’s resolve break.
Huge, cinnamon eyes looked up at him from her chair, watery and shimmering. ‘They’re not as good as Butterscotch’s…they’re not as good as Butterscotch’s...’ Draco repeated in his head, attempting to picture the really puppy dog’s eyes. ‘It won’t work. I’m not going to be swayed by some eyes. I’m a Slytherin. I’ve been too soft before, but it’s time I got my act together.’
“Please? I promise I won’t do anything…really. I’ll take it back to the chair if you want me to. I won’t rip it tear the pages.”
Draco sighed. Hermione: 1 Draco: 0. “Come over here…I don’t really have any books that you’d like though.” The girl cautiously approached, scaring Draco more then when she’d come running and screaming at them with teeth bared. At least then he knew to expect an attack…now, he had no warning.
“Can I read with you?” she asked, pointing at the Transfiguration book. “That one looks interesting.”
“I need to read this for my class,” Draco pointed out. “I have a whole three feet of notes to take.”
“I could read it to you and you could take notes,” she suggested, already clambering up onto the bed.
“Are you feeling all right?” Draco asked, placing a hand on the girl’s forehead. “Not warm,” he muttered to himself. “Does your stomach hurt? Throat sore?”
“I feel fine,” she answered honestly. “Why?”
“Because…well, because you’re not threatening me, hurting me, screaming, or doing anything that Hagrid would classify as harmless.”
“Who’s Hagrid?”
“A teacher here. And the gamekeeper. But that’s not the point.”
“You think I’m always like that?”
Draco nodded.
“I normally am,” she smiled. “But right now I’m bored and don’t feel like sitting in that chair. And this book looks the most appealing but since you’re using it, I can’t. So we can both use it if you’d let me read it.”
‘She’s still smart…logical. Just like the Hermione I knew. And she loves books…now, just to work on the not so sweet side of her…’
“All right then,” Draco agreed. “You read, I write. But no lying, understand?”
“Promise,” the child grinned, crawling beneath the blankets and propping herself up on the pillow next to Draco. “Okay, where did you leave off?”
“Paragraph two on the second page,” the Slytherin answered, positioning his parchment on his knees and poising the quill.
“Contrary to popular belief, the way the candle is made does have an impact on the picture frame. Hand-dipped candles, made without the use of magic, often times tend to make a crooked frame with a wavy glass covering. Back in 1936 these frames were very popular in the muggle world as carnival owners used them as fun house mirrors, replacing the glass with a mirror.
Hand-dipped candles using magic to dip the wick smoothly into the boiling wax will result in a circular or oval shaped frame, often times being hung on walls instead of set on tables. The trend of hanging circular photographs was inspired by a man by the name of Clag Leid. He began to hang his family photos in the circular frames down the length of his hall and being a wealthy businessman often had visitors to his home. They, in turn, liked the idea of the circles and began to use it themselves. Today, in many of the older wizarding families, circular portraits are quite a common sight.”
When Harry entered back into the Hospital Wing, he was quite shocked (and quite scared) to see Hermione reading from the giant textbook while Draco calmly wrote down bits and pieces of what she said. “Is everything all right in here?” he queried worriedly.
“I’m not really sure,” Draco responded carefully. “How’s Butterscotch?”
“Finally calm. He’s hiding under my bed at the moment though and won’t come out. But he’ll get better…hopefully. I gave him some more water and some food in case he’s hungry while we’re away.”
Draco nodded. “Can you ask Pomfrey if I can go yet? Potions starts in a few minutes and we really should try to get at least one class in.”
Harry nodded and disappeared into the nurse’s office while Hermione went back to reading. Seconds later, she stopped as Harry exited, a smile on his face. “You’re free to go. She just says to take it easy and not do anything dangerous.”
Draco shot a pointed look at Hermione, who smiled back innocently. “We can try,” he sighed. “Let’s get out of here then.” Seconds later, his books were back in his bag and the bag on his shoulder and all three were off for the dungeons.
“It’s…so…cold,” chattered Hermione.
“It’s the dungeons,” Draco replied, perfectly comfortable with the cold after living down below the ground for five years. “Don’t worry, it’ll be warmer in the class room by the cauldrons.”
“Cauldrons? Like the ones witches use? Can I make a brew? Do you have frog eyes? And rat tails? And pickled feet?”
Draco and Harry were both turning slightly green as the girl’s list continued to grow. “And lice? And leeches? And spider legs? And-”
“And I think that’s enough,” Harry interrupted. “Besides, you aren’t making a potion.”
The girl’s eyes hardened. “What do you mean I’m not making a potion?”
“It’s for students only,” Draco said nervously; starting to put distance between himself and the girl, hand claming onto his wand. “You’re not a student here so you can’t do anything.”
“I will be making a potion,” she said vehemently. “And you can’t stop me!”
“We’ll tie you up and roast you,” Harry threatened. “We can stop you and we won’t hesitate to use magic.”
“I’d like to see you try. I have a wand too!”
Harry and Draco jumped backwards as the girl reached into the pocket of her robes and brandished a stick at them, a small leaf still attached to it. Immediately, both boys calmed down. “I’ll stun you and tie you up!” she declared, waving it madly. “If you try and stop me I won’t hesitate to use this!”
Harry shrugged. “Go ahead and try. But you won’t be making a potion.”
Hermione stood perfectly still, before putting her ‘wand’ back into her pocket. Taking one, careful step forward, she suddenly charged, screaming at the top of her lungs. But this time, Harry and Draco were ready.
“IMMOBILIUS!” Draco cried while Harry shouted ‘Stupefy!’. The girl froze mid step, perfectly poised on one foot with her arms stretched out and a snarl on her face. Her eyes, the only thing she was capable of moving, were glaring so hard the teenagers could almost feel the heat.
“Should we levitate her?” asked Harry.
“Let’s. I don’t really want her coming to life if we’re carrying her.”
And so, Hermione was brought into the Potion’s classroom, hovering several feet off the ground and eerily silent and unmoving. Harry ended the levitation spell and Hermione fell onto a chair, her death glare angrily focused on the boy-who-lived.
“Sorry we’re late,” Draco said nonchalantly, dropping down into his seat.
“It’s quite all right,” Snape said, looking warily at Hermione. “I trust you’ve had your hands full.” Turning to look at the entire class the man barked out, “Instructions are on the board. Get started! You have until the end of the class!”
“Today just had to be the day we’re actually brewing something,” Harry sighed. All of last week the class had been researching the properties of the Evergreen Potion, the one they were to brew today. It was a rather complicated one, and Hermione had been put out when she realized she’d never get the chance to make it.
The potion was more of a tool for plants, not humans. Madam Pomfrey had asked Snape if his sixth years could make it…some of the plants she kept in the Hospital Wing for her own quick potion brews were starting to wilt. This potion guaranteed extra life to the plants, hence the name Evergreen.
“Do you think we should tie her up?” Draco questioned, looking at the girl, still fortunately stuck in a fixed position.
“That’d be too mean,” Harry said. “Besides, you said she was behaving earlier, right?”
“That was because she was bored. Now that she’s here, she isn’t going to just sit down and read a book. How about a leash?”
“Not restricting enough. She would have an area to run around in…and since we’d have to keep her by us, she’d probably do something to our potion.” The mischievous twinkle that entered Hermione’s eye when Harry said that only confirmed the boy’s suspicions.
“Continually stupefy her?”
“No, we’d probably damage her or something…side effects, you know.”
“How about we lock her up in Uncle Sev’s office?”
A picture of Hermione standing in the middle of the office, broken bottles and ingredients littered on the floor around her and Snape pulling out his wand and aiming it at himself, entered Harry’s mind. “No, that doesn’t sound like the safest option. We could just leave her untied…”
“And let her blow up the entire room? I don’t think so.”
“Then you come up with something!”
“I’m thinking!”
“Oooh,” squealed the child in debate. “Rat tails!” Whirling around, both gulped when they realized the spells had worn off and the child was now loose. The rest of the class noticed too and stopped all movement; afraid they’d draw the girl’s attention.
“Hermione,” Harry said as calmly as he could, hand closing once more over his wand. “Don’t. Touch. Anything.”
Too late.
With a loud crash, the table that housed the potion ingredients fell to the ground, bottles breaking open and flasks spilling, as Hermione had leaned too much on the ancient wood as she reached for the tails. Unfortunately, that wasn’t all that happened.
Lavender screamed as one of the eyeballs from a toad hit her foot and jumped backwards…into the shelves bordering the walls. That, of course, caused a chain reaction of every shelf to fall out, the jars toppling off and onto the students beneath them.
Poofs of brightly colored smoke started to erupt around the room as the different items mixed together, and adding the screams to the noise, the confusion, the smoke, and the terror, chaos was created.
“ENOGH!” shouted Snape from the front of the room. “NO ONE MOVE!” Silence, save the dripping of random potions and the bubbling from the solutions on the floor, washed over the room. More calmly and composed, he continued. “Is anyone hurt?”
“I don’t think so,” called Terry from the far right corner. “But I can’t see anything.”
Snape cast a wind charm and all of the smoke exited the room, students now able to see…and the damage was revealed. “Well,” Harry said in forced cheerfulness, “it could have been worse.”
“Haha,” Draco muttered, glaring at Hermione. “How could this be worse?”
“Well…someone could have gotten hurt.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “You,” he growled, pointing at Hermione. “Sit down right where you are and don’t move. Or we will tie you up.”
Grumbling, but for once doing as she was told, Hermione sat down, the bottle of rat tails still in her hands. Under Snape’s command, students began to cast cleaning and repairing charms on various parts of the room.
“Now then,” said Snape once everything was cleaned up. “I suggest you get back to working on your potions, you still have about half an hour.” Sighing, students began to gather ingredients once more, wishing that they had gotten the rest of the period off.
“Uncle Sev,” Draco said softly, going up to his godfather. “I know it’s against rules, but can we let Hermione make something? Nothing that will hurt anyone, just something to keep her entertained?” Both looked over to where Harry was holding the child off with one hand as she attempted to dump the rat tails into their cauldron.
“It’d be the best idea,” Snape sighed. “Here,” he said, handing Draco a large jar. “In there’s jell-O powder…it was meant for the first years to make molds, but why don’t you have her just make some? Boiling water isn’t too dangerous, right?”
“Right,” Draco smiled. “Thanks, Uncle Sev.” The man waved Draco away and the Slytherin made his way back to the duo. “I have a solution,” he said proudly. “Hermione, you can make a potion.”
Immediately, the girl stopped trying to get to Harry’s cauldron and looked curiously up at Draco. “You mean I can make a potion?”
“Uh huh. All you have to do is boil three cups water. And once it’s boiling, add one cup, just one, of this powder, okay?”
“Okay,” she grinned. Harry and Draco gave each other relieved looks and turned to concentrate on their own Evergreen Potion, leaving the child to making jell-O.
As Harry was chopping small pieces of cherry wood bark, he accidentally elbowed Hermione, who had jumped off the stool over her cauldron. “I’m sorry, Her-” Harry began to apologize, turning around. He never got to finish.
Once he had begun to turn, Hermione had held her food out, and Harry effectively tripped over it…falling straight into the cauldron of boiling water, which for some reason was more of twenty cups then a mere three.
With a screech, Harry leaped out of the cauldron, bright red and angry burns already covering his arms and back, his clothing completely burned off in places. “Harry!” Draco cried, dropping down to his knees and reaching out to help, though Harry recoiled with a yelp.
“Hospital Wing, Potter,” Snape called from the front of the room. “Would you like Draco to escort you down?”
Staggering shakily to his feet, Harry ran over the options in his head. ‘Go to Hospital Wing with Draco means Hermione has to come. That could mean more pain. Go by self, no Hermione.’ “I’ll make it there, Sir,” he gasped, eyes watering.
Snape nodded, a small amount of sympathy showing in his eyes as Harry tottered out the door. In the hallway, it took the boy all his will power to just keep moving, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. ‘Only a few hundred feet more…come on Harry…you can do it…you…can…do…’ With a soft thump, Harry collapsed on the cold floor, not even out of the dungeons.
Back in the class, Draco was glaring at Hermione, who gave a sheepish smile. “Why was there so much water?” he demanded.
“It wasn’t full enough,” Hermione pouted. “Three cups barely filled it!”
“Next time, you listen to what we say, understand? You’re lucky Harry was feeling well enough to go up by himself…otherwise, you would have been in really big trouble.” Unfortunately, Draco had no idea Harry wasn’t feeling well at all.
“Can I add more of the powder stuff? Otherwise the potion will be dilute. Thanks, Draco!” she chirped, not even waiting for an answer. Picking up the jar, she dumped the entire thing in, blue power hissing as it touched the water. Reacting quickly, Hermione picked up a gigantic wooden spoon and began to stir her potion.
Suddenly, she paused and sniffed the air. “This is jell-O…this isn’t a potion. I wanted to make a potion!”
“You’re too young,” Draco retorted. “Be grateful you even got to make anything.”
“Cast a cooling charm on it,” she demanded.
“Why?”
“Do it!”
“No,” Draco said calmly, stirring his own potion. “I’m not doing anything for you.”
“I’ll drop it.” Startled, Draco looked up to see Hermione hanging his beloved dragon over her jell-O mixture. “If you don’t do as I say, I will drop it.”
Draco growled. Draco: 0 Hermione: 2 “Congelo,” he muttered, flicking his wand at the cauldron. At once, the fire went out and the liquid inside turned into a smooth substance, known as jell-O.
“Now sit,” Hermione commanded, maneuvering the dragon so that it was now above Draco’s still bubbling cauldron. The rest of the class stopped working to see what was going to happen, after diving behind their own cauldrons for safety that is.
Draco, after eyeing his stuffed animal, sat down grumpily on the floor. “Now,” Hermione smirked. “You’re going to eat all of the jell-O I made.”
“WHAT?” Draco shrieked. “There’s enough in there for more then fifty people!”
“I know,” Hermione said gleefully. “But because you attempted to trick me, you get to eat it all. So what’s it going to be, Draco? The stuffed dragon getting cooked or you eating some nice, yummy jell-O?”
Draco looked around the class, hoping for a show of sympathy, but all he got were stares and nods towards the jell-O. “Fine,” he snarled. “Give me the bloody jell-O.”
A malicious smile on her face, Hermione picked a bowl up from the table and began to scoop jell-O into it. “That’s about one of fifty servings you’ll have,” she said, placing a huge mass of the wiggling goop in front of the Slytherin. “Think you can do it?”
“Watch me.”
About half an hour later, Draco was lying on the floor, hands clutching his stomach. “No more,” he groaned. “Just give me back the dragon.”
“But you’ve only finished twelve bowls! You still have thirty-eight left! You can’t give up! Otherwise…” Picking up a pair of scissors, Hermione cut part way into the rope she’d tied around Sparkles and was holding the dragon dangling over the cauldron on Evergreen Potion. “You’ll never see your stuffed dragon again.”
Pansy, having a sudden idea, darted out from behind her cauldron and crouched down behind Snape’s desk. Once Draco was on his next bowl, Hermione supervising, she flicked her wand at the dragon. “Accio Sparkles,” she whispered, the dragon and rope flying at her. “I GOT IT DRACO!” she cried happily.
Hermione screamed in rage and broke into a charge at Pansy, who shouted and began to run away from the girl, the dragon clutched in her hands. “Stupefy!” shouted Ron, pointing his wand at Hermione. The girl froze mid-jump, Pansy crashing into a wall as she looked behind her, but pretty much unharmed.
“Are you all right?” Pansy asked, running over to Draco. “SPEAK TO ME!”
“Stomach…hurts…” moaned Draco.
“I know,” Pansy comforted. “It’ll feel better later…here’s Sparkles!” Draco hugged the dragon to him, mumbling a thanks. “You’re quite welcome.”
“What do we do with all of the jell-O?” asked Ron, mouth watering.
“Can we eat it, Professor?” Terry asked
Snape thought it over. If he let them eat it, it’d mean he was being nice to Gryffindors…if he didn’t, then he’d have to either eat it all himself of throw it away. And throwing it away wouldn’t be allowed since it was a waste of food. “Go ahead,” he sighed. “Just don’t make a mess.”
“JELL-O PARTY!” shouted Ron, diving for the cauldron. “WHO WANTS SOME!” Screams of ‘Me’ sounded, drowning out Draco’s feeble ‘no’ while Hermione, in her stupefied state, watched from afar, glaring evilly at Pansy. The poor Slytherin girl now had a new enemy.
Elsewhere in the castle, McGonagall exited her rooms, a relaxed smile on her face. “That was the break I needed,” she smiled, a letter in her hand. “No kids, no Miss Granger, and no more screaming. After I deliver this letter to Severus, I have a nice class of fourth years to teach…none of which have children.”
As she continued down into the dungeons, the Transfiguration professor began to feel even more thankful that her next class would be easy as she heard shouting coming from Snape’s room. “I’m so thankful for a child-free day from now till Wednesday. I’m thankful for the railings Albus installed on these stairs that keep me from falling. I’m thankful for the beautiful torches that line the walls and make seeing possible. I’m thankful for the body, adding its décor to this gloomy hall. I’m thankful for- A BODY?”
Rushing over, the teacher knelt down, turning the figure so she could see the face. “Mr. Potter?” she cried in alarm. “Can you hear me? Mr. Potter?” Taking in the sight of the dark burns, most two degree, her cinnamon eyes narrowed. “Come on, Hospital Wing, Potter.” Harry made no move to stand up nor did he react like he’d heard her.
Casting a levitation charm, McGonagall sprinted up the stairs, Harry floating along behind her. “Poppy!” she called, bursting into the Hospital Wing. “Mr. Potter needs some of your burn ointment!”
The nurse puttered out of her office, jaw dropping at seeing Harry. “Put him on one of the beds,” she instructed, “on his stomach, if you’ll please.” Harry moaned softly as he was gently lowered.
“Potter? Can you open your eyes?” asked McGonagall, hovering next to him as Pomfrey ripped off the tattered robes and began to coat his back and arms in purple gel.
“W-what?” he muttered, picking his head out of the pillow. “Professor?”
“You’ve been burned quite badly, Mr. Potter. Your entire back half to be exact,” said Pomfrey. “You’ll be staying here overnight…for now, if you’d like to heal those burns on your legs, rub this on. I’ll go get you a set of clothes from the back…when I come back, I want that burn ointment all over you, understand?”
“Yes, Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said softly, struggling to sit up, although the pain was already lessening on his back and arms.
“Good boy.” As the mediwitch left to go find some clean clothes, Harry began to rub the gel onto his burns and McGonagall headed down to the dungeons, a gut feeling telling her of a certain child who might have done this…
When she got to the Potions’ classroom, it was surprisingly empty, with Snape sitting behind his desk and eating a bowl of blue raspberry jell-O. “Severus? Can I come in?”
The man nodded and picked up a large spoon. “Jell-O, Minerva?”
“A small bowl,” she replied, pulling up a stool over to the other teacher. “But why exactly are we eating jell-O?”
“Miss Granger made enough to feed the entire class and a bit extra…”
“About Miss Granger…did she happen to do anything to Mr. Potter?”
“He did fall into a cauldron of boiling water,” Snape admitted. “But he said he could make it up to the Hospital Wing on his own, which makes me think he wasn’t too badly injured. Why?”
“I found him collapsed in the dungeons a few minutes ago, Severus. He’s got second degree burns all over his body…Poppy has him staying the night.”
Snape blinked. “It was that serious? He seemed fine though…a little unsteady but…”
“This is Harry Potter we’re talking about,” McGonagall sighed.
“Point taken. Have you alerted Draco?”
“No, not yet. Where is he?”
“Most likely at dinner with the other students…I was going to head up myself after I finished my jell-O.”
“Well, then I’d best go inform Mr. Malfoy of where his partner is.” With a nod good bye, McGonagall went back up to the Great Hall, feeling pity (the first time ever) for Draco as she realized he’d be alone with Hermione the entire night.
As it was, the two were sitting at Gryffindor table, where Hermione was eating a large plate of spaghetti and fortunately not harming anyone, and Draco was resting his head on the table. “Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco looked up at her, his face a light shade of green. “Hmm?”
“I just wanted to inform you that Mr. Potter is in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey wishes to keep him there overnight.”
“Why?” Draco asked, more alert now. “It was just minor burns, right?”
“I’m afraid not…they were rather bad.”
“Can we go see him?” asked Ginny, who had been sitting next to Draco.
“He’s resting right now…although if Mr. Malfoy would like to go up and bring Mr. Potter a new set of clothes and possibly some homework to do, that would be all right.” Leaning over she whispered into his ear, “Good luck with Miss Granger.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Draco said. “Come on, Hermione. We’re going to go get some of Harry’s things.”
“But I’m not finished eating!”
“You’re on your second helping…besides, you can have some jell-O when we get back after visiting Harry. We have quite a bit left.” Snape, after realizing that they’d never finish all of the gelatin, even with Ron there, had given each student a thermos in which to dump some of the jell-O.
Waving good-bye to Ginny and Ron, Draco started for the Rainbow Room, Hermione in tow. “Stay right here,” Draco ordered, pointing at the couch once they’d gotten in the room. “I’ll be right back.” Disappearing into Harry’s room, the Slytherin was quite surprised when Butterscotch poked his head out from beneath the bed and whimpered softly. “What’s wrong with you?” Draco asked, grabbing a set of clothes from Harry’s trunk.
The dog nodded his head towards the common room. “Hermione, huh? Yeah, but at least you don’t have to take care of her.” A soft bark sounded. “Hey, no complaints! You can hide, I can’t.” Another bark. “Harry? Oh, he’s at the Hospital Wing. He won’t be back tomorrow so I’m taking care of you.”
Butterscotch jumped on top of Harry’s bed and curled up by the pillows, whining softly. After giving the puppy a good-bye pat and another bowl of food and water, Draco closed the door and exited the room, breathing a sigh of relief when Hermione was still where he left her.
The two arrived at the Hospital Wing a few minutes later, Draco exhausted after having to chase Hermione down one of the unused halls as she saw a ghost and wanted to go touch it. The ghost she saw just happened to be the Bloody Baron and both ended up fleeing as the very enraged ghost pursued them.
Harry was the only one in the room, sitting propped up by pillows on his bed and his glasses resting on the nightstand. His upper torso and arms were completely wrapped with bandages and some of the purple gunk could still be seen on parts of the skin the bandages didn’t cover.
“You feeling okay?” Draco asked, setting the books down next to Harry’s glasses and the clothes on an empty bed.
Wearily Harry cracked open his eyes, blinking before Draco handed him his glasses. “I’ve felt better,” he replied. “Pomfrey says I’m lucky it wasn’t any worse…or I could have had scarring.”
A soft sniffle sounded before Draco could say anything. Both looked and saw Hermione, sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed, rubbing her eyes and crying softly. “Hermione?” Harry asked worriedly.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly. I’m sorry!” she cried, launching herself at Harry. Although, this time she merely pressed her face against the bandages, small sobs shaking her shoulders. Harry winced at the impact, but then very slowly brought his arms around the child in a hug.
“It’s okay, it was an accident,” he murmured. “Don’t cry, Hermione.”
“But it wasn’t an accident,” she sobbed. “I tripped you…it’s my fault. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt that badly! Honest!”
“I forgive you,” Harry said softly. “It’s all right, really. I’m fine.”
“Sure?”
“Positive,” Harry smiled back.
Giving him a watery smile, she then launched herself at Draco, the Slytherin barely having time to catch her. “I’m sorry to you too, Draco. I really hurt you…”
“You did,” Draco agreed. “But I’m fine now. You just have to learn to calm down a bit.”
“I know,” she sighed, her arms still wrapped tightly around Draco’s arm. “Mommy and Daddy always tell me I have to learn to control my temper. But it’s very short. So when I get a little mad, I do things that hurt people. And I guess…I guess that when I got here, I didn’t want to listen to anyone. At home, Mommy and Daddy work a lot so I’m always at daycare. I see them for dinner and on Saturday, but when I’m at daycare I always have to listen to whatever Mrs. Casillow says. And I just didn’t want to listen to anyone anymore.”
“But why were you so violent?” asked Harry, taking a sip of water.
“There’s this boy at daycare named Garret. And he always used to pick on me since I never wanted to play outside; I wanted to read. One day, when Mrs. Casillow wasn’t looking, he dragged me out to the playground and dropped me from the top of the swirly slide…I broke my arm…I told Mrs. Casillow that I fell over the side because Garret said he’d drop me again if I told her. But as soon as my arm was better, whenever Garret came by me I’d attack him and then I’d get sent to a time out corner, but he never got the chance to really hurt me again. So that’s why…”
“So you’re just naturally defensive?” Draco queried, adjusting the child on his lap.
“Uh huh. I’ve been trying to work on it…but Mommy says that with my short temper and how I like to kick people I haven’t been doing very well. But I’ll try, really try. I don’t want to hurt anyone more. And I want to apologize to that teacher and Professor Dumbledore!”
“Your apology is accepted, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said smiling, entering the room. “I trust you’ll try to be better behaved after this?”
“Yes, Sir, I will,” she declared, nodding her head enthusiastically. “And I am sorry about your beard…I ripped my grandpa’s out too. Mommy wasn’t very happy. Neither was Grandpa. But my doll’s arm got stuck in it and I couldn’t get it out…so I yanked it, and I ripped his beard off! And I got my doll back too! Grandpa said I was lucky he was thinking about shaving it.”
“The shorter beard is a change…a bit different but not terrible. And I’m sure Professor McGonagall will also accept your apology. Mr. Potter, I do believe it’s time for you to get some rest.”
“Yes, Professor,” Harry nodded. “Thanks for bringing my things, Draco.”
The Slytherin nodded and rose to his feet, Hermione slipping off his lap and landing on the ground. “Feel better. We have Care of Magical Creatures after breakfast tomorrow.”
Harry groaned and flopped down on the pillows as Dumbledore chuckled softly. Both were sitting there, when they heard screams from the hallway. “YOU DO NOT TOUCH THE BLOODY BARON AND LIVE! DIE, FOOLISH MORTALS!”
“What did they do this time?” Harry muttered, picking up his Charms book.
“I WILL KILL YOU! DIE!” More screams sounded but were growing fainter. Harry shrugged, it wasn’t his problem.
Back in the hall, Draco and Hermione were both fleeing for their lives with a very angry ghost behind them. “YOU JUST HAD TO POKE IT, DIDN’T YOU?” Draco screamed, Hermione riding piggyback on him.
“I’M SORRY! I WANTED TO SEE IF MY HAND COULD GO THROUGH!”
“WHY’D YOU PICK THAT GHOST?”
“I DIDN’T KNOW,” she wailed.
They arrived at their portrait, the Bloody Baron right behind them. “PARVULUS!” Draco screamed, dashing inside as soon as Leviculus opened.
“You run really fast,” Hermione commented, sitting on Draco’s back as the Slytherin crumpled to the floor. “Can we do that again?”
Draco didn’t even have the strength to say no. Which was bad because Hermione took silence for a…
“Yes!” she cried, throwing her arms in the air. “Let’s do that again tomorrow morning, kay?”
Draco only groaned.
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