Seeking Hermione's Bean
Title: Seeking Hermione's Bean (07)
Author name: Romulus Lupin
Author email: galigad@yahoo.com
Category: Romance
Sub Category: Humour
Keywords: Harry Hermione Bertie Botts Beans
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF
Summary: Chapter 7. "The Consequences of Being Harry." How does Harry react to Dean's
stunning portrayal of Hermione and himself? And what will Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Hagrid-to say nothing of Ginny
and Luna-have to say about it?
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: Thank you for your reviews. :D Especially to Paracelsus who gave a most insightful comment on what happened in the last chapter, and everyone else who took the time to post.
Chapter 7. The Consequences of Being Harry
"Yeh got fifteen minutes to finish up."
Ginny shook herself at the sound of Hagrid's gravelly voice and smirked, grateful again for the advanced information from Hermione about the creatures that fifth-year Care of Magical Creatures were to cover, and thankful that she'd picked up some of Hermione's study habits over the years.
But she let out a sigh of frustration as she listened to the goings-on inside Hagrid's hut.
What, in Merlin's name, was going on in there?
She'd exchanged worried glances with Luna as they heard the boys' frightened cursing, frowned at her brother's terse command: "Do it, Dean!"-and raised her eyebrows as Dean's bland professorial tone came down the thread of the Extendable Ears: "Ten points to Gryffindor, Mr. Finnigan, for pointing out something that most people overlook: it is not so much which beans to look for, but knowing what to do with the beans once you find them.
"Or rather… what to do with THE BEAN when you find it!"
She'd raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Luna, only to be met by a shrug from the blonde Ravenclaw. At that moment, Ginny would have given up quite a lot if only to have a chance to see what was going on there-and found herself wondering what Dean's "visual aid" was.
Ginny had always been awed at Dean's natural talent: the boy was good. He had an uncanny ability to capture details which an ordinary person would miss: the way Neville bit his tongue as he pored desperately over his Potions book, the frown on Ron's face as he studied the chessboard, the look of surprise on Parvati's face when she lost at Exploding Snap, the shimmer of their school robes as they walked around the castle… the way Harry and Hermione looked at each other when the other wasn't looking.
Those sketches were the most endearing of all, for it showed Harry and Hermione at their most vulnerable: not as The-Boy-Who-Lived or The-Smartest-Witch-in-a-Generation… but ordinary mortals who went through the same heartaches that everyone did: falling in love, the fear of rejection, the blushing and stammering when caught unaware by the other.
It made them human, and she shook her head at how easy it had been to miss out on that single, simple fact. She'd grown up in a world which held Harry Potter in awe and she had fallen prey to the same thing: squealing in delight when the Twins said they'd met Harry on the train, hiding in her bedroom when he stayed at the Burrow the summer before her first year, avoiding his eyes when they joined him in the Leaky Cauldron in her second year…
Too bad that neither one had ever seen Dean's sketches of them, she thought. Dean had kept them hidden, respectful as he always was of his friends' privacy-especially Harry's innate shyness. It was only by accident that Ginny had seen them-she and Dean had been having a friendly tussle one time and the sketches had fallen out… and she respected Dean's principles too much to blab about those sketches to anyone.
"I wonder if Dean is using those sketches as his visual-"
The thought was cut short as she realized that Professor Snape was now in Hagrid's hut; she shook her head as she realized that Dean's voice had changed, taking on the Potion Master's tone and manner: "Respect, affection, and gentleness are the key to handling these beans, Mr. Potter. While they may not be as important as THE BEAN, improper handling will lead to monumental failure in your quest."
She felt her eyebrows rising as Dean's voice continued in her ear: "You do NOT grab and squeeze them like a cow where force and pressure are needed!
"You treat them with RESPECT, with AFFECTION, with TENDERNESS-"
And nearly jumped at Dean's suddenly raised voice: "Am I clear, Mr. Potter?"
She shook her head to clear it of Dean's commanding voice, one question dancing around at the fringes of her mind: `What, in Morgana's name, do cows have to do with beans?'
***
To say that Harry Potter was stunned was putting it mildly.
He was sure that his brain had jumped out the window, screaming at the sight that seared his eyes before he closed them tightly in pain-
Especially the way chalk-Hermione was looking at his counterpart in Dean's magically-drawn picture: eyes shining, the corners of her lips curved oh-so-slightly upward as she smiled, her expression so softly tender and totally loving-
`Is that why Krum was asking me vot there vas between me and Herm-own-ninny?'
In that moment, he knew that his brain hadn't abandoned him-the coherent thought blasted through the confused mass of his skull like a bolt of lighting on a dark and gloomy night, and his brain started responding… focusing on that oh-so-surprising moment in Fourth Year when the older boy confronted him, and his utter disbelief that eighteen year old Viktor Krum, Star Keeper of the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team and Durmstrang's Tri-Wizard champion, thought that fourteen-year old Harry Potter was an equal… a rival-
But the drawing of him looking back at Hermione intruded, and he could feel his face heating up as his mind barraged him with questions: `Is that how I look at her? Is that the look I give her whenever she says something that makes sense, whenever she performs some bit of magic so easily and so flawlessly, the way I look at her in the Great Hall during meals, in classes, in the Common Room, as we walk around the castle every day-'
"Oh yes, I forgot-of course, if it was darling Hermione's idea-"
The waspish, angry voice echoed in his mind and he wondered if that was what other people saw: the way he looked at Hermione, the way he smiled at Hermione…
Did everybody else see what he was too blind to see? That he and Hermione… that she and him…
A roiling wave of sensations assaulted him and he wondered why his head didn't explode from the blood pounding in his ears, obscuring whatever it was that Dean was nattering on and on about… his throat tightening as he tried to control his harsh breathing… scrunching his eyes even more tightly as he struggled with a new thought, a sudden epiphany: `Had he been blind all these years?'
He couldn't take it anymore… he had to see it, he had to be sure of what he saw-and he opened his eyes and stared-
Whatever charm Dean used had apparently imbued his drawing with the same quality that wizarding portraits and photographs shared: the Harry and Hermione on the board were no longer facing each other.
They were facing him, still holding hands but looking down modestly at their feet-and his eyes bugged out even more as Hermione's drawing burned itself into his brain: her long, bushy hair, eyes downcast but with a soft, demure smile on her angel's-bow lips… the gentle curves of her chest… the flat stomach with their deliciously defined contours which flowed delicately around her belly-button…
It was only then that he realized that the Harry and Hermione on the blackboard were not wearing any clothes.
And that Dean's wand was jabbing at Hermione's thighs-
***
"What's that in your ear, Ginny?"
Forever after, Colin Creevey knew he would never fear death-because he'd looked into the blazing brown eyes of the Grim Reaper in the milliseconds after he'd asked the question, and snatched the thin thread and the flesh-colored plug from Ginny Weasley's ear.
He'd always thought that his encounter with the basilisk in First Year was the worst experience of his young life; this, however, was much worse-for he was looking into burning, flaming eyes that even Salazar's basilisk would have run screaming from in fear!
That he would survive to tell the tale was due only to Luna Lovegood suffering a fit in that exact, same instant-or so it seemed, for the ditzy Ravenclaw was thrown to the ground as if Stunned… an action immediately followed by a low BOOM! that had the entire class on their feet, heads swiveling like owls trying to locate the noise… quickly followed by the sight (and sound) of a door bursting open with a lividly enraged Harry Potter stalking out of Hagrid's hut: unruly hair sticking out in all directions, fists clenched tightly and veins standing out, eyes straight ahead, steam pouring out his ears, and everyone-even Hagrid-stepping back from the palpable waves of anger emanating from the young man.
Before anyone could even close their gaping mouths, Luna Lovegood was on her feet and stumbling towards the hut, a heart-rending cry escaping her throat: "RONALD!"
***
It felt as if Hagrid had punched her in the ear.
It was the only description she could think of as she lay on the ground, eyes staring at the deep blue of the afternoon sky, trying to shake off the ringing in her ear-her addled brain trying to make sense of what happened…
She remembered Colin Creevey approaching Ginny, asking her red-haired classmate if there was something in her ear… she was about to pull the Extendible Ear out but hesitated as she heard Dean's triumphant voice proclaiming, "This is where to find Hermione's bean-"
Only to have Hagrid punch her ear-
She stumbled towards the hut… felt an arm around her and tried to push away, intent on reaching the hut where she knew her Beloved lay… calming down only when she realized that it was Ginny helping her get to the hut… vaguely, she realized that Hagrid was ahead of them, his long strides leaving them behind… she tried to run faster but was hobbled by her throbbing head…
She heard Hagrid shouting, "Stay back!" as they approached the hut but she would have none of it-
Luna pushed into the cabin, squeezing herself behind Hagrid's broad back with Ginny close behind-heard herself screaming "RONALD!" again as her eyes took in the sight of the blasted room and its Stunned occupants: Dean on the floor with Hagrid's crossbow across his chest, Neville and Seamus to one side, apparently knocked out by the hams and pheasants that had fallen from their places on the roof-Ron's long nose and red hair sticking out from beneath a large, broken blackboard beneath which he slumped on Hagrid's large bed.
She tore at the board covering Ron, lifting it through sheer adrenaline and not even thinking of using her wand-Ginny helping her before turning away to check on the others, both of them hazily hearing Hagrid's muffled voice shouting, "Hospital Wing!"
***
Within minutes, a flash of flame from the fireplace announced the arrival of Madam Pomfrey who took one look before moving towards Ron, whose head was now cradled in Luna's lap. A quick wave of her wand and she nodded at Luna: "He's all right, just knocked out," before turning to the others, her wand waving as her experienced eyes ran over their faces…
Another flash heralded Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, both holding tightly to Fawkes' long golden tail; the heads of the school stared in disbelief at the chaos of Hagrid's normally untidy room.
The Deputy Headmistress quickly went over to the school nurse who started talking even as she bent over Dean: "Stunned, the lot of them but no major injuries, except for Mr. Weasley, who seems to have taken a hard knock on the head. Misters Finnigan, Thomas and Longbottom are all right-some bruising but they'll wake up soon enough."
Madam Pomfrey suddenly straightened, a puzzled look on her face: "There's no sign of a direct magical attack on them-they seem to have been knocked out by various things thrown at them with great force."
The Deputy Headmistress frowned at first but nodded as the nurse gestured at the scattered hams, pheasants and other objects around the shattered room-and blinked as she realized that Luna Lovegood was there, cradling Ron's head in her lap. She noticed that Ginny was also in the room and she scowled at the faces looking in through the blown-out windows of the hut. Before she could dismiss the curious crowd, however, Madam Pomfrey continued: "I'd like to bring Mr. Weasley to the hospital wing for observation; I've had to remove some splinters from his face and arms which may be infected-"
"And the others, Poppy?"
Madam Pomfrey turned a grim smile on her school superior and gave an evil smirk at the tone in the Deputy Headmistress' voice: "There's no need to bring them to the Hospital, Professor. A simple `Ennervate' should wake them up."
Professor McGonagall nodded at that, and turned to Ginny and Luna. "Miss Lovegood, Miss Weasley… will you be able to help bring Mr. Weasley to the Hospital Wing?"
Dumbledore spoke up from beside the door where he had been speaking in low voices with Hagrid, "Poppy can handle it, Minerva. I believe"-turning his twinkling eyes to Ginny and Luna-"that Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood would be of some assistance in our… ah, investigation of what happened here?"
Before Ginny and Luna could drop their jaws, the Headmaster plucked the Extendible Ear from Luna's collar, where it had stuck in her haste to run to Hagrid's hut.
"A most ingenious device, wouldn't you agree, Miss Weasley?" Ginny blushed and stared at her shoes as Luna found solace in gazing longingly at Ron's bruised face. "Your brothers would be proud of the uses to which you've put their work."
"Albus-"
"I don' remember havin' a chalkboard here."
The others blinked at the puzzled Hagrid, who was holding the blackboard that Ginny and Luna had removed from Ron in his massive hands.
"I see," Dumbledore said, although it appeared that he wasn't sure what it was he saw. He turned to the windows, where he saw Colin and his Ravenclaw counterpart. "Prefects?"
The two nodded and quickly began leading the others back to the castle, quickly followed by Madam Pomfrey with Ron floating beside her. As soon as they were some distance away, Dumbledore turned to the pieces of the blackboard that Hagrid had stacked in the middle of the room. A few quick, economic gestures and a muttered incantation… and they were all staring at the repaired blackboard: empty except for a scorched and blackened area at the center.
Before anyone could make a comment, a thick Irish brogue was heard: "Wha' happened?"
***
Seamus Finnigan opened his eyes and sat up, fighting against the pain that was emanating from his forehead as he tried to remember what had happened. His last conscious memory was of Dean pointing his wand at the board, his joyful and triumphant voice saying, "This is where to find Hermione's bean"-and then being flung on his back as something invisible hit him… staring up in horror at a massive ham heading straight for his head… the adrenaline surge that helped him escape being brained by the thing-only to hit his head on a fallen pheasant…
He drew his knees up and laid his still-aching head on them-and heard an icy voice that made him wish that the ham had done its job properly: "Well, Mr. Finnigan-would you care to explain what happened here?"
Seamus raised bleary eyes to the voice-shuddered as he realized that Professor McGonagall and her twin were glaring at him-and replied: "Meep?"
***
Neville Longbottom blinked his eyes open and smiled-Ginny was talking with Hagrid, and the sight of her worried face was a soothing balm on his aching head.
The feeling of serenity lasted for all of a split-second however, as his memories clicked into place: what was Ginny doing here? He turned his head carefully and found himself wishing that he were in the Department of Mysteries again: anything was better than facing the group staring at the blackboard from hell which was the cause of his current situation. The thought quickly faded, however, when he heard Seamus' voice beside him and he quickly closed his eyes and lolled his head to the side; discretion, at this point, was the better part of valor and he'd be damned if he would let the others realize that he was awake.
His hope of escape was dashed however, as he felt a presence beside him and heard Professor Dumbledore's firm voice: "Enervate!"
***
Seamus cringed as McGonagall and her twin raised their wands at him; in the next moment, he felt a cooling sensation wash over him and he blinked as he realized that McGonagall did not have a twin… saw Hagrid looming over him and felt himself being lifted into the chair so recently occupied by Harry… heard Dumbledore reviving Dean and Neville… and released a sigh of relief when he glanced at the blackboard and saw that the `evidence' had been erased by Harry's burst of magic.
He caught his companions' eyes and inclined his head towards the board-the answering nods and hidden grins sending a surge of confidence through him, and he felt himself relaxing…
Until Professor McGonagall stepped in front of them and he found himself facing the cold eyes of his Head of House.
"None of your blarney, Mr. Finnigan," McGonagall said in a cold voice. "The truth now, quickly."
He gulped, glanced at Dean and Neville on either side of him who gave him encouraging nods… opened his mouth, and began: "It's Harry Potter, Professor…"
***
Dean was sitting on his hands; a sideways glance at Neville showed that his dorm-mate had done the same thing and he kept his face serious as he listened to Seamus' rolling brogue explain what had been going on since breakfast that morning. If he hadn't sat on his hands, Dean knew, he would have been on his feet clapping, whistling and cheering Seamus' masterful performance.
He'd always smiled whenever Seamus claimed that he'd kissed the Blarney Stone when he was a child; as far as he was concerned, Seamus had been born with the Blarney Stone in hand, given his natural gift for story-telling-and the proof was right in front of him as Seamus detailed their observations, their deductions, and the plan they had put together in the Great Hall that morning… and the reason they had kept their plans to themselves.
"Harry's always been a private person, Professor," Seamus said. "You remember how he was last year… we all wanted to help him, but he always refused."
Silence fell across the room as memories of Harry's pain-filled fifth year flitted through their minds: they'd all had a taste of Harry's explosive temper and violent mood swings throughout the year… and the adults in particular harbored some guilt at not having been able to help Harry as much as they should have.
Seamus lowered his head and looked away from the adults as he emulated Dean's pained voice, "I'm not doing this for you, Harry-I'm doing this for me. I'm doing this for us: we've wanted to help you, but you've always tried to do things by yourself, you stupid prat-"
Turning back to his Headmaster and Head of House, he whispered, "This isn't about you alone, Harry-it's for all of us."
A loud sniffle made Dean look up and he smiled as he saw Hagrid blowing his nose into a large handkerchief-and realized that even McGonagall was teary-eyed at Seamus' masterful performance. His glee faded, however, as he saw Ginny staring daggers at him.
`Uh-oh,' he thought, pushing down hard on the panic welling up in him. `Ginny knows something, but how? She was with Hagrid the whole time-"
His head snapped back as McGonagall's voice sounded in the room: "But why would Mr. Potter suddenly blow up? You were only trying to help him…"
Seamus looked away for a moment before continuing, "I'd guess he didn't take kindly to our advice, Ma'am."
"And that is?"
A deep breath, and it came out in a rush: "Find Hermione, drag her to the Astronomy Tower or the nearest broom closet and snog her senseless."
"I see." Dumbledore's quiet comment diverted Dean's attention from the priceless expressions of surprise on McGonagall and Hagrid's faces. "Well then, Harry's reaction doesn't surprise me… he is, after all, a very private individual."
The wave of relief passing through the three boys was palpable although they tried to hide it immediately. They realized that they'd reacted too soon, however, when Dumbledore trained his eyes on Dean while addressing Seamus: "And the blackboard, Mr. Finnigan?"
"Sir?"
"It seems that whatever magical energies Harry released-and I must admit that your… uhm, `suggestion' could have set Harry off-one must wonder why it was directed at a blackboard in this room.
"A blackboard, I must add, that Hagrid-who lives in this room-has never seen before."
"Oh." Seamus chanced a quick sideways glance at Dean, a look that conveyed both apology and defeat, and continued. "Dean felt that it would help if Harry had a"-a pause as he cleared his throat explosively-"a visual aid on hand."
"A visual aid, Mr. Finnigan?" McGonagall's voice had gone back to its arctic freeze, and Seamus and Dean visibly paled.
"Urhm… we felt that it would help if Harry can, ahhh, visualize the mechanics of-gulp-snogging Hermione, Ma'am."
"I see." Dumbledore's calm voice and seeming acceptance of the statement made Dean sag in his seat-but he quickly straightened up as the Headmaster's eyes impaled him. "Would you care to demonstrate, Mr. Thomas?"
Gulp.
There was no way out of this, he thought, and he stood, feeling like a man with a date with a noose. Dean took a deep breath as Hagrid handed his wand to him, and he faced the scorched blackboard. He wasn't sure what had happened with his first spell-it wasn't as if it was the first time he'd made use of that charm-but he couldn't find an explanation as to why the drawing turned out that way.
`Probably a naughty blackboard,' he thought to himself-and felt a wave of elation pass through him. Harry had blasted the board in his anger, he realized. Whatever mischief that thing had-and he suddenly wondered if Peeves had possessed the thing without anyone knowing-Harry's anger should have exorcised whatever insolence or tomfoolery it had.
Feeling more confident, he took his stance, closed his eyes and focused on the blackboard. His mind quickly flipped through his sketchbook, fixing on separate pictures of Harry and Hermione as they sneaked glances at each other in the Common Room-and he smiled as he remembered the utter cluelessness of his friends. With the feeling of cheerfulness at its height, he murmured the charm, enunciating properly and precisely… feeling his wand move in the prescribed manner effortlessly, and allowing his magical energies to flow…
Soon enough, the sound of chalk rubbing on board stopped-to be quickly replaced by sharp breaths from the others in the room and a shocked, "Du lieber Gott!" in McGonagall's voice. Frowning, Dean opened his eyes… and froze.
Seamus had said that Dean's visual aid had something to do with Harry snogging Hermione-and the board displayed that in all its glory: Harry and Hermione's lips fused together… Hermione's small hands fisted in Harry's unruly hair… one of Harry's hands in the back of Hermione's head while the other was on her waist, pulling her closer to him…
And as before… neither was wearing any clothes.
Dean Thomas fainted.
***
"Mr. Thomas!"
One of Dean's most treasured possessions was the sketch he'd rendered during Harry's battle with the Hungarian Horn-tail: the dragon breathing fire, yellow eyes blazing as it followed Harry on his broomstick, its spiked tail twitching dangerously…
Right now, he could replace the Horntail in that sketch with McGonagall's face and nothing would have been amiss.
McGonagall had revived him and he found himself wishing that she'd just get on with it and kill him rather than ranting about what he'd done, and he hung his head in shame as the verbal abuse flowed-much of it surprising, as he'd never known that the always prim and forever proper Minerva McGonagall even knew those words.
"Professor McGonagall!"
The Headmaster's firm voice abruptly cut off his Deputy's tirade and Dean took the opportunity to say something in his defense: "Professor, I didn't mean…"
"Silence, Mr. Thomas!"
"Minerva!" It was a tone of voice that none of the students had ever heard-and one which both McGonagall and Hagrid had heard all too infrequently over the long years of their association with the Headmaster. It was firm and commanding-a voice that would have effectively cut off a bickering crowd without the need for the Sonorus Charm-and the room was enveloped in a cone of silence.
"I believe Mr. Thomas." Dumbledore quickly held up his hand at the look of surprise on his Deputy's face and said, "The castle has been around for longer than either of us, Professor McGonagall-and it undoubtedly has secrets that we have yet to discover, like the room that Harry used last year for"-a sudden twinkle in his eyes-"Dumbledore's Army?"
A soft snort came from the others in the room, and a small smile appeared on McGonagall's face at the name of Harry's secret DADA class. Dumbledore continued, "I suspect that this blackboard which, I assume you asked some house-elf to procure"-Dean nodded vigorously at this-"has been kept hidden in some unused classroom, probably because it has a tendency to… do its own thing, as it were."
Professor McGonagall's mouth tightened at that; although she could see the logic behind the explanation, she wasn't that prepared to accept `magic' (inadvertent or otherwise) for something like this.
"Rather than censuring these children," Dumbledore nodded at the three Gryffindor boys, "they should be rewarded for taking the initiative of trying to help a fellow student who, alas, often has the unfortunate tendency of acting without thinking things through."
There was a sad note in Dumbledore's voice which Dean and Seamus caught; neither of them noticed that Neville, Ginny and even Luna were nodding their heads slowly. He trained his suddenly twinkling eyes on Dean: "I should be awarding you boys twenty points each for trying to help Harry"-the sudden grins on their faces were quickly wiped away as they saw McGonagall scowling at them-"but I doubt if Mr. Potter would feel the same way after the spectacle that you have caused.
"So let us just consider this incident closed."
The three boys grinned, avoiding McGonagall's angry glare and wisely keeping their elation hidden. "I would suggest, however, that you avoid Mr. Potter until Miss Weasley can explain the situation to him."
The three quickly nodded… none of them were willing to enter their dormitories right now, until-as Dumbledore suggested-Ginny was able to explain the situation to Harry.
"If there is nothing else…" Dumbledore looked around him and nodded. He turned to Hagrid, his twinkling eyes flashing at full force: "I hope Poppy has left the Floo open in the Hospital Wing; no doubt Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood would want to be there when Mr. Weasley wakes up?"
"Oh yes, Headmaster, thank you!" The three boys snickered at the breathless gratitude of Luna Lovegood, each of them wishing that they could be in the Hospital Wing when Ron woke up to Luna's attentions. Their snickers died, however, at the glare that Ginny gave them-and Dean found himself sweating at the thought that the red-headed girl knew more than she was letting on.
"As for the three of you," the three turned to the Headmaster, "I assume that Hagrid would be needing some help-"
"Tha's all righ', Perfessor," the genial giant said. "Seein' as it was Harry who actually did the damage… anyways, I think I'd best be havin' a talk with tha' boy soon."
"All right then." He turned to the students again and said, with a smile, "Dismissed."
The three professors stood quietly as the students left: Ginny and Luna using Hagrid's fireplace to Floo to the Hospital Wing; the three boys taking their leave and walking out the door. Within seconds of the door closing, a loud bray of laughter was heard, and Minerva McGonagall turned her beady eyes on her wizarding superior.
"Albus, you surely don't believe that bull-"
"Of course not." Hagrid and McGonagall gaped at him in surprise; Fawkes, who'd been quietly sitting in a corner of the room suddenly flew up and settled on his shoulder, his soft croon seemingly asking a question as Dumbledore stroked his feathers.
"But-"
"You must admit, Minerva, that their hearts were in the right place-they did want to help Harry with his problem." Their eyes inadvertently flicked to the blackboard where the naked Harry and Hermione were still engaged in exploring each other's tonsils-McGonagall and Hagrid blushed and turned away. "As for Misters Thomas, Longbottom and Finnigan… do you honestly believe that Miss Weasley would be able to keep the true story of what happened here from Miss Granger?"
A short pause and Hagrid's soft voice breathed out even as Fawkes gave a small warble that sounded more like a chuckle than a song, "Merlin! She'll kill them when she finds out…"
"Indeed." The smile on the old man's face was on a par with his twinkling eyes. "Of course, the question is who will find them first: Harry or Miss Granger?"
The grins on Hagrid's and McGonagall's face were now close rivals to Dumbledore's own, but McGonagall quickly frowned. "And Harry's… problem?"
Fawkes gave a warble that this time sounded more like laughter than chuckle and Dumbledore smiled as he stroked the phoenix's red and gold feathers. "Indeed, old friend."
He turned to the other two. "I think we can leave that in Miss Granger's more than capable hands."
McGonagall's eyes flickered once again to the blackboard with its moving drawings, and giggled. "Or Miss Granger's more than capable mouth."
A rumbled snicker from Hagrid, a short bark of laughter from Dumbledore, and another warbled chuckle from Fawkes-and the Headmaster drew his wand. A quiet "Scourigify!" and the drawing was erased, leaving nothing behind but a memory.
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