Disclaimer: I do not own the original Harry Potter characters and things just the new things in this story and the plot (which will hopefully thicken soon...)
A/N: This is a terribly short chapter and I'm sorry... I hope you like it just the same! I certainly enjoyed writing this one a lot! A lot of this is in Hermione's POV, which I hadn't originally intended to happen in the story. Hermione's Patronus in this the same as the one in OotP, so if it would be a big disappointment for you to know what it is before you read the book, then I suggest you wait to read this chapter until you've read the fifth book.It's really not that important in the 5th book, just thought you might like to know.
Chapter 19: Unlucky Things Happen on Friday the 13th
"Very good, Hermione! Most witches your age cannot perfect a Patronus so quickly!" Professor Figg exclaimed, after Hermione's fifth attempt and success at the Patronus.
"I told you she was good at this sort of stuff Professor," Harry said, grinning proudly at Hermione. "I didn't learn it nearly as fast..."
"Yes, but you were practicing on a Boggart.... I'm just summoning it up," Hermione said modestly.
"Well, you and Harry have done some of the best spellwork I've seen in a long time. Keep it up!" Professor Figg said exuberantly. She quickly checked her watch. "I think we have time for a few more tries. Go on then...."
Hermione took a deep breath and barely a millisecond after she began to think about a happy thought did she realize that one was standing right next to her. She summoned a thought of when Harry and Ron had come charging into the girls' lavatory to save her from the troll and the immense relief she felt when she realized that someone cared about her enough to battle the 12- foot monster. Smiling at the memory, she readied her wand and cried, "Expecto Patronum!"
A silver otter dove out of her wand and began capering about her as she smiled down at it happily.
"Good!" Professor Figg announced. "Again."
Hermione knelt down to touch it and a few seconds later it disappeared. She stood and recalled another lovely thought. She remembered back in her third year, whe she and Harry had saved Sirius on Buckbeak's back and how free and safe she'd felt, soaring up there on the hippogriff's back and clinging to Harry's waist. A few moments and an incantation later, her shimmering otter was frolicking about her feet. She smiled pleasantly down at it.
***
Ten minutes later, she and Harry were walking along the hallway. Hermione was feeling a bit dizzy and clammy. She had never realized how much energy they took the conjure. Harry must have noticed this because he reached out to squeeze her hand and pulled something from his pocket. He handed it to her.
"I thought you might be needing this by the end of the lesson," he explained.
It was a Chocolate Frog. "Thanks Harry," she said and quietly tore it open. She munched on the Frog and felt the familiar warmth spread all over her body. She glanced at the card. "Hey look it's Merlin!" she exclaimed.
"Weird. I get spooked by coincidences do you?" Harry replied.
"Sometimes," she said. They walked for a few moments in silence.
"I think your's is very pretty," Harry piped up.
"My what?" she asked, confused.
"Your Patronus. It's an otter."
"Yes, I quite like it. Your's is a stag, right?" He nodded. "To each his own, I suppose. Or her's..." They grinned. They reached the portrait hole and opened it. Ron was sitting in an armchair by the fire. He looked worn out. Earlier before their lesson had begun, Dumbledore and them had concealed their secret inside Ron. They could both understand why he was tired. The headmaster had placed many charms and spells on him and all of them hitting him over and over had to be taxing.
"I'm bushed," Ron said heavily.
"I can understand that," Hermione said.
"At least, we did the ceremony today instead of tomorrow," he added.
"Why?" asked Harry.
"Tomorrow's Friday the thirteenth. The most unlucky day of the year!"
"Oh Ron that's a silly old superstition. Surely you don't believe that?" Hermione exclaimed.
"Why shouldn't I? Remember my Uncle Bilius who saw the Grim and died? That was on a 13th Friday! And what about--"
"Please Ron, spare us. Why don't you go up to bed and get some sleep?" Harry suggested.
"Actually I was thinking of getting a house-elf to bring me some hot chocolate first," he said. Hermione pursed her lips disapprovingly. Harry chuckled.
"You know Ron, you'd think that after a year of that S.P.E.W. tosh, you'd learn to keep your mouth shut about house elves around Hermione here," Harry said.
"Oh c'mon Hermione you're not STILL on about this spew stuff are you?" Ron asked exasperatedly.
"It was not 'spew', it was S.P.E.W. At least Harry has the decency to say it properly. Although I still think the deserve proper wages and vactions, I can see that they might actually be happy working at this stuff. I just wish SOME people-- who shall remain nameless-- would not treat them so terribly."
"Well as long as I don't have to wear a dumb badge that says spew on it..."
"RON!"
A few seconds passed and they all began to laugh. With a collective sigh, they got up, hugged and said their goodnights, and headed upstairs.
***
The next morning when Harry woke up, Ron was carefully tiptoeing around putting on his clothes cautiously as though he expected something to fly out of them.
"Really Ron, this whole Friday the thirteenth stuff is rubbish. Really, be sensible!" Harry said disdainfully.
"I just don't want to take any chances!" Ron replied.
"But Ron--" Harry stopped. If Ron wanted to make a fool of himself all day, that was his problem.
Half an hour later, they met Hermione in the common room to go down to breakfast with them. As they strolled down the corridor, Ron was walking in a peculiar manner, swerving from side to side on his tiptoes, looking a bit drunk. But instead of his eyes being glazed over, they were fastened on the ground intently. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, then looked back at him.
"Ron, what on earth are you doing?" Hermione asked, suppressing a giggle.
"It's Friday the thirteenth, and you can't step on any cracks," he replied calmly as though his were walking like a normal person by their side. Harry and Hermione looked at each other and looked away for fear of bursting out laughing. They had almost made it to the Great Hall, when Hermione let out a huge sneeze. Ron jumped a mile and landed square on a crack and didn't notice. He stared at her with a look of horror.
"Ron, what is wrong with you today?" she asked irritably.
"You sneezed," he answered simply.
"Yeah, that sometimes happens when dust or something goes up your nose..."
"But it's Friday the thirteenth! You can't sneeze on Friday the thirteenth! It's bad luck!"
"Oh Ron! From everything you've said today, there's nothing you can do save breathing that's not unlucky!"
"Suit yourself. Maybe bad luck for you is a 9/10 on your homework."
Hermione rolled her eyes and they went into the Hall. As they walked to their usual spot, Ron began his odd little dance around the cracks on the floor. People looked at him oddly, some even pointing. But the threesome walked on, two of them aware of the stares, and the other oblivious. When they got to their regular spot, who should be there but Malfoy, leaning over a the food that had already been sent up. He was looking more smug than usual.
"What in the world is Weasley doing? Some sort of weasel mating ritual?"
"What are you doing here Malfoy? You're not welcome at the Gryffindor table," Harry said coldly.
"And that Mudblood shouldn't be welcomed at this school," Malfoy replied smoothly.
Ron, forgetting about the cracks, lunged for Malfoy, but Harry being quicker, grabbed his collar and pulled him back.
Malfoy laughed. "Good thing Potty's here to keep you in line Weasel. Catch you around." He sauntered off.
"Ron, you shouldn't let Malfoy get to you like that. It's not good for you," Hermione said calmly, sitting down opposite Ron and Harry. "I'm just starved today! How about you guys?"
"Sure, I am. Why do you even need to ask Ron?" Harry replied. He piled eggs and toast and kippers onto his plate. He picked up a piece of bacon with his fingers. He was about to eat a bit whe he smelled something funny coming off of it. "Does the bacon smell a bit off to you or is it just me?" Ron sniffed at Harry's.
"Yeah I think so too. I wouldn't eat any, it might be spoiled."
But Hermione was already devouring it. "Tastes alright to me," she said. They all continues their breakfast without any odd occurences.
***
While they were in Potions, Hermione was starting to look a bit pale.
"Hermione, are you feeling all right?" Harry asked.
"Yes Harry I'm fine."
But over the course of the class, she began looking a bit paler, and sweaty too.
"Is it cold in here to you guys?"
"No," Ron replied, wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead. He stirred his Pepper-Up Potion more feverishly. "How could you be cold when we're making this potion?"
"Maybe it's that bacon you ate. I thought it smelled a bit funny.," Harry said.
"I don't know," she replied, stirring her potion a bit haphazardly, "I just feel kind of funny, a bit dizzy..." At that moment she trailed off. Her eyes rolled up into her head and she fell to the floor. Her head thudded nastily on the ground.
"HERMIONE!" both boys yelled, kneeling down next to her, potions forgotten. Professor Snape walked over and did a double take. He collected himself and said silkily,
"What, may I ask, is going on here?"
"She's fainted sir. She said she was feeling a bit dizzy," Ron replied promptly.
"She's burning up!" Harry exclaimed, feeling her forehead.
"Potter! Take Granger to the hospital wing," Snape said, flicking his wand at Harry and Hermione's potion. They disappeared. "You and she will share Mr. Weasley's marks. Just hope they're good. GO!"
Harry bent down to scoop up Hermione easily in his arms. As he lifted her, her head fell back, revealing a something greenish creeping up her neck slowly. Snape had apparently seen it too.
"Get her up to Madam Pomfrey quickly, Potter. It seems to me to be worse than being a bit sick. Go!" Harry ran off, leaving Snape muttering behind him. "How could she have eaten some...must have been planted in her breakfast..But how?"
Harry quickly dismissed these mutterings, and hurried on. Blood from the back of her head was trickling slowly down his arm.
When he finally made it to the hospital, Madam Pomfrey hurried out from her office. By then the green rash was creeping up to her chin as well. He laid her gently on a bed. Madam Pomfrey said,
"What's happened?"
"She's fainted in class, and she hit her head hard. She's burning up. And she has this weird green rash on her neck, too," he explained. Madam Pomfrey looked up sharply at this last comment.
"A green rash?" Harry pointed it out, and she suddenly looked grave.
"Oh dear, how could that have happened?"
"How could what have happened?" he asked confused.
"Get out boy. I need to see where else the rash is." With that a white curtain appeared around the bed, and Madam Pomfrey pushed him out.
'What on earth could all that mean? How'd she get sick so quickly?' he wondered. Then he remembered. That dumb superstition of Ron's. She had sneezed. 'And unlucky things happen on Friday the thirteenth,' he thought glumly.