Hermione was released from observation just before the end of morning classes the next day. What frustrated Harry was that he couldn't follow her. Madam Pomfrey refused to give him a clean bill of health. Dumbledore had shown up early in the morning to speak with Pomfrey and Hermione. Harry pretended to be asleep in an attempt to hear what was being said, but in both instances privacy charms had been used.
Harry rolled over and sighed. He wanted to speak with Serion. He hadn't seen the snake since he'd passed out and was worried about him. He was certain the garden snake was going to need some tender loving care if he was as sore as Harry felt.
Pomfrey bustled about tending to the students that filtered in and out. One little girl requested a stomach soothing potion and several fifth years came in needing sleep potions each having acute cases of insomnia by way of excessive worrying and studying. Harry noted that the seventh years did not suffer from the same anxiety even though it was their N.E.W.T. year, because other than an ear check requested by a seventh year Hufflepuff, no other seventh years set foot inside the infirmary. Maybe they had discovered the way to balance their busy schedules that as fifth years hadn't known, or maybe it was because they could brew their own potions.
Harry tried to plot his escape but it was apparent that somebody had informed the warden. Just after lunch he'd been given a sleeping draft and had napped the day away. He woke up disoriented in the late afternoon as the last classes for the day were being dismissed.
"Ah," came a gentle rasping voice as Harry opened his eyes and blinked up at the ceiling. "I was beginning to wonder if Poppy had given you a stronger dose. How are you feeling Mr. Potter?"
Harry groaned and reached for his glasses. "Spectacular, Headmaster."
Dumbledore nodded solemnly, clasping his hands over his long white beard. "As to be expected. Your brother told me what happened and I must admit, I am curious as to how you came across that artifact?"
Harry cleared his throat. "Err--" he mumbled, stalling. "I found it, sir."
"Really? Where did you find such a valuable artifact?" inquired Dumbledore.
He scratched his head looking briefly into the Headmaster's eyes. "I don't really remember. All I can tell you is that I got lost in Diagon Alley. Next thing I know I tripped over a small package. I picked it up and ran back to the AMAS point. I didn't want to be late for dinner."
The Headmaster stared at him and Harry felt like his words were being weighed. "Can you tell me anything about the place where you found such a priceless piece of history? I find it most curious that someone would simply leave it behind."
Harry scratched his nose, then at a piece of lint on the hospital bed. "I don't really remember, sir."
"Do you know what it was that you were dealing with down in the classroom, Mr. Potter?"
"I don't understand, Professor," Harry said, casting about wildly for a way to get out of the conversation.
Dumbledore frowned, his eyes narrowing behind his spectacles. "I see, well then, you should know that you were dealing with a very dark artifact. You should be expelled for having it."
"I'm expelled?" Harry asked alarmed.
"No, you won't be. But I'm curious about how you always seem to end up getting hurt by things you shouldn't even know about. Your actions keep putting your brother in great danger."
Harry narrowed his eyes, matching the Headmaster's heavy gaze. "I don't put him in danger. It's his own foolishness that puts him in danger. Besides what danger would an artifact from a founder be? Why is it that you called it dark? I thought it was a chalice that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff. I did the research on it."
"Nevertheless, your brother has saved you from your own foolishness," Dumbledore replied sternly. "You should not mock his actions."
"Whatever," Harry muttered darkly.
At that moment Draco walked through the infirmary doors with blood pouring down the front of him. Hermione came through next hovering anxiously beside the injured Slytherin. Harry could not have been happier to see them.
"Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione yelled, "Draco's injured!"
Alarmed, Dumbledore turned his gaze from the profusely bleeding boy to the Headgirl. "Miss Granger what happened to young Mr. Malfoy?"
"Thee jinth mae!" Draco yelled angrily, the skin peeping through his hands flushed a deep red-purple that clashed horribly with his silver hair.
"We were dueling in Defense," Hermione explained, twisting her hands together.
"Ith wath en illeegal moffh!"
Hermione stopped wringing her hands and glared at Draco. "It was not! Professor Hobday clearly defined the rules before the start of the match. Just because you don't know how to block a simple Capillary Burst jinx is not my fault."
"Way to go, Hermione!" Harry inserted with a huge grin.
"Profehther," Draco said, trying to appeal to Dumbledore.
"Mr. Malfoy, what on earth happened?" Madam Pomfrey demanded, bustling over from her office.
"Thee jinth mae!" Draco answered immediately, one hand pointing to Hermione before coming back to his face to try to stem his nosebleed.
"Lower your hands deary," she replied, tutting softly under her breath as she took in the damage to the Slytherin's face which was deeply bruised in several areas, swollen in others, and bleeding from both nose and mouth. "What was he hit with Miss Granger?"
"Capillary Burst jinx, Madam."
"Just the face or a full body?" Pomfrey questioned sharply, running her wand over Draco.
Hermione hastened to explain to the school Healer. "The shortened incantation Madam, Professor Hobday said casting anything that could cause…"
"You look like an angry Weasley minus the red hair, Dray," Harry said with glee over his girlfriend.
"Thutt itt!" Draco yelled, turning his face toward Harry on the bed.
Dumbledore frowned, looking down at Harry. "Don't antagonize--"
"Hold still, Mr. Malfoy!" Pomfrey commanded, waving her wand erratically.
"Sure Dray, whatever you want," he acquiesced, sitting back against the pillows and enjoying the show.
"Miss Granger, please go fetch a blood replenishing potion and a bruise ointment from the cabinets."
"Right away, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said before hurrying off to get it.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy, this is going to feel a little funny," Pomfrey warned, raising her wand. "Renovo Capelaires."
"Ahh!!!" Draco yelped, jumping back from the portly Healer, hands going to his face once more.
Harry watched Hermione rush back to them, wheezing as she handed over the tiny black bottles. Madam Pomfrey plucked it from her fingertips and approached the moaning Slytherin. Draco noticed her movements and took a hurried step back.
Pomfrey stopped and glared. "Now stop that foolishness at once, Mr. Malfoy. You need the blood or you're going to faint dead away."
Draco glared spitefully as the Healer forced his hands away and pried his mouth open with a firm order to drink up. Harry slipped in another wise-crack riling the Slytherin up quite nicely. Hermione looked torn between laughing and scowling and ended up looking ill herself.
"There. Done." Madame Pomfrey reached over and took the second bottle from Hermione. "Apply this once a day for the next three days. You're free to go."
Gingerly Draco touched his face and a flash of relief showed through before a mean and cool mask slipped over the aristocratic features. "Thank you," he said, straightening and dropping his hands.
"I don't know Madam Pomfrey," Harry said from his bed, squinting. "I think Dray looked better before you fixed him up. The red did wonders for his vampiric complexion."
"Eat slugs," came the Slytherin's acidic reply.
"Nah, I had breakfast already, Dray, thanks for thinking about me though."
After an indeterminable but apparently suitably cutting remark, Draco turned on his heel and stalked out of the infirmary. Poppy and Albus watched the youth's retreating back before leveling unsuccessfully cowing glares at Harry. He smirked in response and ignored them both cheerfully. Dumbledore moved to say something but Harry talked over him.
"Did you bring me today's classwork and homework, Hermione?"
She nodded, shooting the Headmaster a timid glance before retrieving a set of her duplicated notes and handing them to Harry. He accepted them gratefully and started perusing them. Exasperated with Harry's teenage antics, Dumbledore told him he would talk to him later and swept out of the ward. Harry just smirked knowingly at Hermione.
"That wasn't very smart, Harry. He's our Headmaster, you should respect him to his face even if you don't behind his back."
"I will when he will," he replied blithely. "I refuse to be treated like a wrong doer or like a child. I am neither and he should accept that and talk with me accordingly."
Her lips pursed together in disproval. "Then next time act like an adult and stop playing childish games with him."
Harry frowned at her, before grudgingly dropping his angry defense. "You're right. He just rubs me wrong these days. I hate all the play-acting he's pulling while trying to read my mind."
"I found a book on Occlumency, you know, the mind protecting magic we ran across earlier, during break today," Hermione admitted, reaching into her bag again and pulling out a thick tome. Harry reached for it eagerly, but she quickly pulled it back. "First tell me Harry, why do you call Draco, Dray? I mean I see it gets to him, but it's kind of odd."
"Oh that?" he said, grinning wickedly and plucking the book from her fingers. "Let's just say I overheard Pansy calling him that when they were snogging their brains out in a broom cupboard."
"Okay, how is that funny?"
"She asked him why he was so small. He got angry, burst out from the cupboard they were in and ran straight into me."
Hermione blinked rapidly digesting the information before collapsing beside him on the bed and laughing riotously. Harry grinned too and scooted over patting the freed up space beside him.
"Come sit with me."
Hermione glanced briefly over her shoulder and sat primly on the edge. Harry's grin broadened as he grabbed her hand and tugged her backwards against him. She landed with a heavy 'oof.'
"There that's better," he said cheekily, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
"Harry, we're in the infirmary!"
"So?" he asked, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "It's not like we're doing something a bit more fun." At Hermione's flabbergasted look, Harry chuckled and opened up the Occlumency book to the first chapter. "Come on now, luv, stop your pouting; remember I'm a sick boy and all. Just read to me."
She shifted, gathering her bushy hair into a single point in the back of her head. Harry handed her the Brenda's Everlasting Non-Misplacing Hair Tie that had suddenly appeared on her lap. "Thanks," she said and took the hair tie, wrapping her gathered hair up into a pony-tail.
"The beginner's guide to Occlumency starts here with the commonly practiced step of clearing one's mind. It is ultimately the easiest and the hardest obstacle in the process of fortifying the mind from magical penetration.
"To do this one must clear the mind of all extraneous thoughts. What you had for lunch, where your Gringotts key went off to, will he or she notice me; these trivialities must be erased. They are not conducive to your mental growth.
"Start practicing now, preferably in the comfort of silence. Noise and other distractions will vie for your attention. To even consider them as nuisances will disrupt the environment you are trying to create for yourself. Relax and think, if you must, of a bay window in a bright, sunlit room. You are sitting on it, bathed in the warmth of the sun, insects drone on outside and an old book is resting on your lap.
"If you have done this properly you will begin to notice the buzzing rise in your ears or the deafening silence swell and compress in a discomfiting sensation. You must not waver now because your tolerance is being tested.
"Ride the overwhelming feeling and you will find yourself falling. It will seem like a long time has passed without change in your tumbling status. Before long you will hit a fleshy floor. This is your brain.
"It is highly suggested to practice frequently and often to get to this point as fast as possible. Also time yourself on how long you can be maintain it. The longer you can stay on that fleshy floor, the better you will be at laying the new foundations for your mental constitution."
Harry stayed her hand from turning the page as Daniel walked into the infirmary.
"What story did you spin this time, brother?" Harry asked before adding scornfully, "Was it some dashingly heroic tale of a lone Gryffindor riding to the rescue of his glory-seeking but ultimately reckless Ravenclaw brother? Did you tell him how all along you knew I would have been better in Slytherin?"
Daniel raked his hands through his hair and tossed Hermione a playful wink. "Now, Harry, don't get your knickers all in a twist. If I hadn't come by at just the right time, you would have died. It was easy to save you; I didn't even break a sweat. Training under Dumbledore's wand and wisdom does have its advantages."
Hermione's look soured as she shut the book. "I'm curious too. What spells did you use that Professor Dumbledore taught you?"
"All sorts, but the most powerful, Hermione," Daniel said saucily, sitting down at the end of Harry's rest bed, "was the give-back-thrice karma hex."
"And Dumbledore actually bought that?" Harry interjected, before Hermione could open her mouth.
Daniel met his brother's gaze. "Why wouldn't he?"
"No reason," Harry replied. "He just grilled me not to long ago."
Daniel smirked. "That's because I let him know that you--"
"Morgona's breath," Hermione exploded, her face turning a livid shade of red. "Do you actually believe the tall tales that come out of your mouth? I know Harry was the one who took care of the Hufflepuff cup and fought Voldemort--"
"Don't say his name!" Daniel retorted. "Have you no--"
Hermione poked him in the chest. "You're even afraid of his name!"
Daniel's face purpled. "You have no right to speak with me that way. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived."
"That's right, Daniel," Harry replied dryly. "You are. Now what did you do to my snake?"
Daniel's face paled as all the blood drained form his face. "You like snakes? I knew you should have been in Slytherin, you Death Eater cur. No wonder you knew about the attack on the train. Did you know about the attack on Surrey's coastline too?"
"What gives you the right to say that to me?" Harry growled, taking Hermione's hand as they both remembered the worry she'd been in over her parents supposed death. "Now where's Serion?"
"You named it?"
"He came with a name, you wanker."
"I told Dumbledore I killed it because it was You-Know-Who's servant."
Harry paled, his grip on Hermione's hand tightening excruciatingly. "You killed him?"
"Snakes are evil."
"You're evil," Hermione remarked angrily, squeezing Harry's hand back.
Daniel drew himself up from the bed. "If you dare say that in public I'll sue you in Wizengamot faster than you can say 'Chosen One.'"
Hermione glared at her boyfriend's twin. "I think you better leave."
"I won't hold it against you, Hermione, when Harry turns out to be exactly what everybody thinks of him."
The minute Daniel had stalked out of the door, Hermione pulled Harry in a fierce hug. "I'm so sorry. I didn't meet Serion, but he must have been a good pet like Hedwig."
"Thank you," Harry said thickly, releasing her.
She dabbed at her own eyes. "Did you think I would turn Serion in because snakes are not allowed as pets at Hogwarts? Is that why I never met him?"
Harry shook his head, staring mutely at the white linens of the infirmary bed. "I was sure you'd disapprove."
Hermione hugged him again, pulling him closer until his forehead rested in the curve of her neck. "Crookshanks is mean and territorial with you and you keep making the effort to win him over. How could you think I would mind your scaly pet?"
Harry took a deep shuddering breath and pulled back. "I'm sorry, I did you a great disservice."
"Don't apologize, Harry."
"I need to get out of here."
"What can I do?" Hermione asked, scooting closer and rubbing his back.
"Distract Pomfrey."
"I can do that."
She stood up trailing her fingers over his arm, giving his fingers a light squeeze before slipping away. Harry watched her disappear around the bend into Madam Pomfrey's office. A surprised murmur came from within and Harry dragged his startled ass out of bed.
"Way to go Hermione!" Harry said for the second time that day and shuffled towards his folded robes.
Slipping out of the thin robe set he was in and back into his hand-me-downs. They were shorter then he remembered, both in leg and arm length. Harry piled up the bed linens with a flick of his wrist and hobbled out of the door.
The exertion was costing him more then he expected it would. The excess magic filling him buzzed in his ear and rang in his skull. The pain in his chest expanded as he grabbed at the door ledge. Suddenly the aches and bruises were overridden by a new agony. Head splitting glee ran through him and Harry blanched, wavering unsteadily on two feet.
Madam Pomfrey, acting on some sixth sense, bustled out of her office trailed by a nervously babbling Hermione.
"Mr. Potter just what are you doing out of bed?"
"Leaving," Harry replied, casting Hermione a wan smile.
"Oh no you're not, not until I give you one last final check."
Harry closed his eyes. "Make it fast."
"I won't have you making demands on me, young Mr. Potter," Pomfrey declared, briskly waving her wand over him.
His scar flared and she hesitated in her movements. Harry smiled weakly, trying hard not to wince. One sign of pain and he was a goner.
"Mr. Potter are you feeling alright?" she asked, leveling a stern glare at him.
"I'm fine," he croaked, coughing to clear his throat. At her disbelieving look he added, "Honestly. Fit as a broomstick."
"Broomsticks are inanimate," Pomfrey pointed out, not buying his assessment. Hermione's clear harrumph from behind the Healer told him quite clearly that she didn't either.
"Can I go?" he whined. "Please?"
The motherly matron deliberated, raking her keen eyes over his eager form. "Oh all right, but don't be going and straining yourself, Mr. Potter. You don't want a relapse."
Harry threw himself out the door before the last word was said. Hermione called after him, hurrying to catch up with his lurching half-run. He didn't stop for her, determined to get the news to the Headmaster if it killed him. As if answering his unspoken promise stabbing pain ripped through his mind.
"Damn Voldemort. Damn Lucius."
"Harry where are you going!"
Instead of answering he ran down the corridors towards Dumbledore's office. His mind raced trying to come up with a way to get the Great Dummy to believe him. As he ran, he tried to remember the other names mentioned in his dream-vision but could only recall Lucius and that there were two Gringott's curse breakers with him. The latter would be better told to the Goblins. Not Raypirnk, that goblin was a bloody wanker.
Coming to a halt in front of the gargoyle, Harry was immediately assaulted by another searing pain. "Fuck!" he said with feeling as his head swam, bright colors dancing nauseatingly across his vision. "I need to speak with Dumbledore," he said commandingly.
"Harry," Hermione panted, rounding the end of the hall.
Harry glared at the hunk of stone sat there mockingly before he kicked it sharply. "I demand that you move."
Hermione limp-walked up the corridor holding a stitch in her side. "What on earth is so urgent Harry?"
§ Move!§ he hissed angrily under his breath, casting a glance over his shoulder at his approaching girlfriend.
The eyes of the gargoyle widened before sketching a bow and jumping out of the way. Harry smirked in approval. "That's right you miserable troll."
"I've never seen it do that before," Hermione said in awe as she reached him.
"Come on," Harry said, grabbing her hand and tugging her up the moving staircase.
At the top, Harry switched hands with Hermione and knocked loudly on the heavy ornate wooden door, bursting into the office without waiting for an invitation.
º«««º»»»ºEnd Chapter 19º«««º»»»º