Bachelor Blues

Calophi

Rating: R
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 21/07/2003
Last Updated: 21/07/2003
Status: in_progress

Two years after Harry graduated from Hogwarts, he is nearly powerless and living with his cousin. Then a strange plant is discovered and an old friend comes tumbling back into his life. Will Harry be able to help solve the mystery of the plant before it’s too late?

Chapters

1. Chapter 1

2. Chapter 2

3. Chapter 3

4. Chapter 4

1. Chapter 1

She looked like something out of a dream...the way her long, blonde tresses flowed and moved from the slight spring breeze...the way her sparkling, green eyes gazed up at me, twinkling in the moonlight. She stepped closer to me, and I could barely contain myself. "I love you," I breathed, and I was delighted when she gasped oh-so-prettily, her breath catching in her throat.

“I...I love you too..."

"Oi, Potter! Don't tell me you've gone faggot on me!"

Harry nearly fell off the sofa as his cousin loudly sauntered in the room where he had fallen asleep watching the news. Unfortunately the news had ended quite some time ago and a mushy romance movie had begun. Of course, that was the perfect time for Dudley to decide to come home (from wherever it was he had been) because it was the perfect time to pick on Harry.

"Oh, come on," he mumbled sleepily. "You know I wasn't watching that."

"As if you expect me to believe that," Dudley scoffed as he marched into the living room and clicked off the television set. "I oughtta just call you Pansy Potter from now on."

"Pansy this," Harry said, and flipped the Dursley boy the bird, to which the larger boy snorted as he plopped down in the recliner to read the daily newspaper.

It's rather amazing what a few years can do to any sort of relationship. Harry had graduated from Hogwarts two years ago, and just afterwards had an ordeal with Voldemort that had completely obliterated the older wizard but also rendered Harry nearly powerless. Although he was still very much accepted in the wizarding world, the boy had elected to convert a portion of his fortune into muggle money and buy a small apartment. He was tired of everyone feeling sorry for him or telling him how great he was. He wasn't going to feel sorry for himself, or grasp hopelessly for some sort of 'cure' for his condition. If he wasn't going to have his perfect dream life, then he was going to work damn hard to make a decent, normal living for himself. Because of this, he hadn't seen any of his cohorts from Hogwarts for over a year and a half, though the occasional owl did fly in from time to time.

So where does Dudley fit into all this? Well, as it turns out, once he had hit puberty and discovered the opposite sex, Dudley had grown quite tired of his pampering parents. A kid can only stand so much parental cuddling and sweetness in front of his friends, and after being embarrassed one too many times than he would have liked, Dudley had begun rebelling against Petunia and Vernon Dursley in a vain attempt to get them off of his back. He would often do the opposite of what they asked of him (if he did anything for them at all, that is) and he even defended Harry a few times just to spite them. He joined the football team despite their wishes to keep their 'Little Dudders" safe from harm, and within a few years had toned up his disgustingly pudgy body and became the leading offensive lineman for his local college's team.

When Harry had purchased his own apartment, Dudley turned up there a few months later - what better way to annoy the older Dursleys than to live with the accursed Harry Potter? Although still arrogant, Dudley's personality had rounded out a bit and Harry found living with his cousin to be quite tolerable - especially because the Dursleys insisted on sending money to Dudley every month. Harry was quite sure that Dudley hadn't told his parents that the money was going towards the rent and other general expenses. He couldn't blame his cousin really - if the Dursleys knew that Dudley had developed a sense of honor and dignity, they probably wouldn't send him money at all.

Harry groaned and sat up, running his hands through his unruly hair. He worked the night shift at the public hospital, and upon a glance at the clock, he saw that he had just enough time to take a quick shower before he had to leave. He enjoyed his work at the hospital, and didn't even mind the night shift so much. He was given that shift because most of the freak accidents happened around that time. People would come in with strange abrasions, rashes, and other symptoms that the hospital staff had never seen before. Of course it happened throughout the day as well, but usually the cases weren't so bad and they were given a room to stay in until their 'specialist' arrived at 8:00 PM.

This job was, for the most part, Harry's only connection to the wizarding world. The people he treated were usually those that had stumbled unwittingly into a stray magical creature or plant of some sort. When Harry had first applied there, the head nurse was skeptical about hiring someone with no training. However, during his trial month he had managed to successfully treat so many patients with baffling symptoms that the staff was happy to have him aboard. They found his methods to be a bit odd (to say the least), but since they tended to work, they didn't make a fuss.

After a quick shower and another futile attempt to tame his hair, Harry walked to work; the hospital was only a few blocks from his apartment. Upon arriving, he was greeted with a smile from the receptionist. She was a pretty little thing, really; she had fair skin, short black tresses, and sensual curves. She was also peeved that Harry didn't even seem to notice, though she would never mention it to him since he didn't express preference to any of his coworkers.

"Mornin’, Gloria! Got anything for me?"

Yeah, the hots, she thought with a smirk. "Actually, an hour ago a young woman came in with a strange case. It appears that she's...uh...blue."

"Blue?" he repeated, a bit confused.

"Yeah, blue," she confirmed, handing him the woman's information. "You know, like the color. Blue as a smurf, she was, and the doctors couldn't do a thing with her. She's in room 107 now."

He pouted slightly, unable to remember anything that would cause a person to turn blue. "Thanks, 'Ria," he said with a wave before shuffling off to room 107. He was really baffled about this one - usually his memory was quite good, and this would have definitely been a symptom that was odd enough to be easily remembered.

Harry reached the designated door and pushed it open. He was about to look down at the woman's folder when he realized that he didn't need to. Although he hadn't seen her for almost two years, the woman sitting on the bed (and staring with rapt attention at the television) was immediately recognizable to him. Why she was blue was anyone's guess.

"Hermione?"

2. Chapter 2

“Hermione?” Harry said, bewildered. She glanced at him briefly and threw him a warm smile before turning her attention back to the television.

“Hullo, Harry,” she replied, her mouth turning down slightly and her nose crinkling in distaste. “Can you believe the filth they put on nowadays? It’s no wonder that national test averages drop yearly if this is what children are watching!”

“Um…yeah,” he agreed slowly, waiting for his brain to catch up to Hermione’s sudden outburst. It’s way too early in the evening to hold a conversation like this, he thought wearily, but I know there’s no putting Hermione off when she wants to rant… He leaned over the bed to look up at the television, and his immediate reaction was to wrinkle his own nose as Hermione had done. “Oh, it’s this show,” he mumbled, watching the variously colored puppets dance across the screen. He cringed as one spoke some sort of gibberish, and the rest followed suit. “I can’t remember for the life of me what it’s called, but it’s gotten rather popular this year.”

“Has it really?” Hermione said, aghast. “How terrible! What happened to the educational programming they used to have on? I remember this one show that was all about math, and I would turn off the history documentaries just to watch it…”

“They took those off when people stopped watching them,” he said with a chuckle, though he wasn’t really that surprised to hear that she used to watch history shows when she was young. “Seems that if kids have a choice between learning and not learning, they’d rather not learn.”

Hermione snorted and folded her arms, glaring nastily up at the offending television program. This gave Harry enough time to remember that Hermione looked a bit…off-color.

“’Mione, why are you blue?”

The witch snapped back into reality, and held an arm up to her face, looking at it with a small grin on her face. “Oh yes, I had nearly forgotten about that,” she stated simply, letting her arm drop as she looked up at Harry. “It’s just a simple charm; I needed an excuse to come see you. I didn’t want to lead anyone to your apartment or anything. What kind of secret keeper would I be if I let people find out where you were?”

After he defeated Voldemort, Harry found it impossible to escape the hordes of wizarding folk that hounded him day and night, either to congratulate him or express their sympathies. The only way to lead a normal muggle life, he decided, was if magical folk didn’t know where he was. He had Hermione put the fidelius charm on him and entrusted her to keep his whereabouts a secret. His only contact with the wizarding world was through Hedwig, his snowy white owl. He had a subscription to the Daily Prophet as well as Gardening Monthly; he needed to keep tabs on new magical discoveries if he was to continue curing muggles of magical inflictions. Various anti-tracking charms on Hedwig kept her from being followed; that combined with the fidelius charm left Harry mostly secluded from all things magical. The exception, of course, was the owls of very specific wizards from whom he occasionally got ingredients and information.

“Well,” Harry mused, “you wouldn’t have come to me without good reason. What’s going on?”

Hermione shifted herself on the bed so that her legs hung off the side, and leaned back on her hands. “You’ve earned quite a reputation for yourself here, Harry,” she started. “You remember why we decided to situate you in this particular region, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling over a stool and seating himself upon it.

It wasn’t much of a secret to the wizarding world that there were leaks of magical activity all around the globe. This part of England was fairly susceptible to those leaks, as a vast amount of magical plants and beasts surrounded the area. Preventive measures were taken to keep the beasts from roaming about, but plants were nearly impossible to control. The wind, insects, and ordinary beasts spread their seeds – such is the nature of a plant, after all. Therefore, magical plants of all sorts popped up all over the area, and were quite elusive to find.

Harry was placed there (with Hermione as his contact) to prevent the muggles from panicking by easily curing them of strange ailments caused by magical plants. He was well known to the muggles in his neighborhood, and news of him was slowly spreading to other towns outside of this one. The explanation for his miracle cures was that he specialized in rare and exotic plant life. He steadfastly refused to divulge his secrets and was regarded by other scientists in his field to be a fraud. Those he had cured, however, knew better, and proceeded to add to his good name.

“Well, because of your training and research, I figured that there wouldn’t be many other wizards who know as much about magical plants as you do – at least not ones who would be willing to help us out and keep our situation confidential…” Hermione said slowly.

“What situation? What happened?” he asked with a hint of alarm in his voice.

“As the new headmaster of the school, Minerva decided it would be best if a team went into the Forbidden Forest and catalogued the life forms there,” she replied. “Albus had it on his list of things to do, but there was always something more important to deal with, and it had never gotten done.” Harry noted that Hermione had gotten used to referring to her colleagues by their first names, which ones one thing he would never get used to. Hermione now taught an alternative history class at Hogwarts – one in which the curriculum stayed far, far away from goblin revolts. She didn’t want to encroach on Professor Binn’s territory, after all.

“So a team of us went out with Hagrid into the forest, and Harry, it was so wondrous! We found so many plants and creatures that we hadn’t even known were in there, and some of them we even had to research to find out what they were!” Harry grinned at Hermione’s excitability over research, a wave of nostalgia sweeping through him. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed the old days…

“Anyway, a couple members of the team found an odd-looking plant with blue leaves, and when they touched it, they got stuck together. Not in an adhesive sort of way, though. It’s really hard to explain. You’d have to see it to believe it. We searched all throughout the library – including the restricted section – and we ordered all sorts of books from other places…” She sighed and threw her arms up in the air. “But Harry, we can’t make heads nor tails of the situation, and we’re afraid that if we don’t figure this out soon, Ginny and Draco might—”

“Ginny and Draco?” Harry interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“Come on Harry, you knew they decided to live at Hogwarts for protection. Like it or not, they both played a huge part in the fight against Voldemort, and goodness knows how many Death Eaters are around. They were bored out of their skulls and volunteered to help with the cataloguing.”

“So they’re an item now?” he said in disbelief.

“Well, no. That’s part of the problem, you see. Since they can’t be separated, we’re afraid they might do something drastic before too long. Like, kill each other.”

Harry didn’t bother to contain his smirk. “He better watch himself then, ‘cause Ginny’s got a mean left hook.”

“Could we not talk about that now?” Hermione sighed as she rolled her eyes. Harry had a bit of a relationship with Ginny during his last year at Hogwarts, and it was actually quite disturbing to think about it. Ginny had blossomed that year, and as it turned out, she had inherited the infamous Weasley temper along with a bit of spunk. From the rumors that flew around that year, the couple’s activities were more than a bit kinky. They had parted on good terms when Harry decided to leave the wizarding world, saying their relationship was a “stress thing.”

Hermione didn’t believe Ginny was all right with it at first, considering the deep crush she had on Harry for years. She confronted the redhead about it, and what she got in return was a big, doofy grin and the reassurance that her crush was just a morbid fascination with the boy, and although she felt completely comfortable in a relationship with Harry she had known it would eventually end. Thus, she tossed away her inhibitions, lived up to her fantasies, bedded the famous Harry Potter, and was quite proud of herself for doing so. Hermione had blinked and stumbled away. In retrospect, she supposed that with six brothers around all her life, it would be ridiculous to think that Ginny wouldn’t pick up some of their crude ways.

“Fine,” Harry said, still smirking, “but you might want to talk about it with Draco, if you know what’s good for him.”

“Ugh!” Hermione huffed, throwing her hands up and hopping off the bed in disgust. She began to pace back in forth in front of him, intent on going on a tangent. “You are the living end! I can’t believe you would take a conversation of such a serious nature and turn it into a sex-fest! You haven’t changed a bit, Harry Potter, and I’m…I’m…” she stammered, trying to think of the right word to describe her ire.

“Jealous?” Harry offered helpfully, only to be glowered at by his old best friend.

“NO!” she shouted in his face, and turned her back to him just in time to miss his grin.

“If you say so,” he said as he stood up so he could move the stool back away from the bed. Hermione heard him shuffling around and decided to face him again.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, this is obviously a dire emergency,” Harry replied as he put the stool away. “If neither of us knows of any plants that cause people to stick together, then we need to get some samples and find out as much about it as we can. And before we experiment, we have a lot of other preparations to take care of.”

His sudden change of tone left Hermione staring open-mouthed at him as he started to leave the room. She shut it quickly and hurried to catch up to him. “I wonder how they go to the bathroom,” she heard him mutter. She pondered the issue for a moment, for she hadn’t thought of that complication before…but then she caught herself, became upset at Harry’s behavior once more, and a slap resounded in the hospital corridor.

3. Chapter 3

Gloria looked up from her desk just in time to see a very peeved, bushy-haired, blue woman striding down the corridor. Only a few paces behind the girl, Harry was grinning madly; Gloria noticed that one of his cheeks was a bright red color. She eyed him suspiciously as he approached her desk.

“What’s going on?”

“This is Hermione, a good friend of mine,” Harry said. “As it turns out, a couple of our friends are in a bit of a spot, and need me to come down and take a look.”

Gloria’s glance shifted between the two of them. The girl looked mighty peeved but hadn’t yet walked out the door, and from this distance she could see that the mark on Harry’s face was a handprint. She decided she wasn’t going to ask what he’d done to Hermione to receive it, but in her mind she sighed wistfully, wishing that he had given her that kind of attention.

“She’s still blue,” Gloria pointed out instead.

Harry peered back at her for a moment before returning to his conversation. “That she is,” he replied. “She had an encounter with a weed that emits its pollen when it feels threatened; it has no effect on human skin other than dying it blue for a few hours. It should be wearing off right about now,” he said with a smile. He turned to look back at Hermione. Sure enough, she had taken the hint and reversed the charm she had put on herself. “See?”

“Huh,” Gloria said, shaking her head. “Who’d have thunk it?”

“Unfortunately, our friends are in a slightly more difficult situation, and I think I ought to see them right away and make sure they’re okay. You know how where to call if any more patients wander in here, right?”

The receptionist nodded. “When should I tell them you’ll be in?”

“I should be back tomorrow afternoon at the latest,” Harry said after pondering for a moment. “Depending on how bad it is, I might have to bring them back here with me. They may need to be watched over.”

Gloria nodded, making a note on a pad of paper in front of her. “I’ll try to keep a room open for them, just in case,” she said.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he grinned at her charmingly, causing her insides to melt like butter. “I guess I’ll be going now. See ya ‘round, Gloria!”

“Yeah, see ya,” she murmured as he and his friend walked out the door.

“Hermione,” he started once they got outside, “do you mind if we stop by my apartment before we leave? I want to make sure Dudley knows where I am, and it isn’t that far of a walk.”

“Sure, whatever,” she said sourly, apparently still appalled by how he acted. It didn’t bother Harry, though; he knew she’d get over it eventually. She always did.

Harry lived in an area full of plant life, and the walk to and from his apartment was quite scenic. They had to walk by a few parks that were riddled with wooded areas and grassy areas that were well taken care of, as well as the extravagant gardens that belonged to the hospital. The pair did not speak to each other, but Harry gave Hermione a fleeting look and was happy to see that she was enjoying the scenery around her. He knew that she was memorizing every tree, bush, and house with her wide, curious eyes. Strangely enough, he realized that he missed having someone around who was always so taken with life and learning.

They reached his building, and he caught Hermione eyeing it approvingly. It was a nice building, to be sure – there was no graffiti on it anywhere, the lawns were mowed, and everything looked very clean and tidy. They silently climbed the flight of stairs that led to Harry’s floor, and soon arrived at the proper apartment. As soon as they entered, a roundish face peered at them from over the couch.

“Potter! You’re home early,” he said through a mouthful of potato chips.

“Way to state the obvious, Dursley,” he mumbled at his cousin. “Listen, I’m just here to pick up a few things; I’m going out for the night. If the hospital calls, take a message for me, okay?” He started to head towards his room, then turned around and said, “And don’t talk with your mouth full; you’ll get crumbs all over the sofa.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dudley said, just noticing that a female was also present. “Oi Potter, who’s the chick?”

“My name is Hermione, not ‘chick’,” Hermione said with a huff. She crossed her arms and leaned on the door jam, content with not moving any closer to Harry’s distasteful relative.

“So Hermy,” he sneered at her, bungling her name in an attempt to irritate her (he was gleeful to note that it had worked), “you bang Potter yet?”

“W…what?!” Hermione sputtered, her face flushed.

“Are you deaf or something?” Dudley taunted. “Did you shag him or not? Well?”

Harry exited his room to see Hermione shivering with rage, her complexion an angry shade of red, and Dudley’s eyes glinting merrily. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” he grumbled, realizing what happened. He took Hermione gently by the arm and ushered her out the door. “Come on, Hermione, let’s go.”

She stiffly allowed Harry to lead her away from the apartment, and Harry was slightly exasperated, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry about my cousin,” he tried. “He’s just—”

“An asshole?” Hermione spat. Harry paused mid-stride, shocked by how upset Hermione actually was, and then hurried to catch up with her angry pace.

“Yeah, that’s what he is,” he said, with a tinge of laughter in his voice. “Don’t mind him, Hermione, he isn’t so bad now that he’s away from my aunt and uncle.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she muttered. Harry noticed that she did slow her pace down a bit, and he managed a smile. They were now in a grove of trees nearby his apartment, and Hermione stopped abruptly, causing Harry to nearly fall over as he tried not to crash into her.

“We’ll leave from here,” she stated, rifling in a small handbag that Harry hadn’t noticed her carrying before. “I take it you still can’t do magic, right?” Harry nodded in response, and Hermione pulled a small broom from her bag. It immediately grew to full size, and Harry was surprised to find that it was the longest broom he had ever seen. Hermione caught him looking at it in wonder, and handed it to him.

“It’s from a new broom company,” she told him. “The Sea Breeze 2X. Apparently they wanted to compete with the carpets produced in the east, and came out with a line of brooms made for multiple people to travel on.” She handed the broom over to Harry for inspection. “They’ve got a terrible turning radius, and can’t fly at high altitudes or maneuver like Quidditch brooms, but they’re very fast and much more comfortable than most brooms are. This one can seat two people.”

Harry looked up from the broom. “Did…you get this just to come get me?” he asked.

“Oh, heavens no!” she said with a chuckle, running a hand through her hair to smooth it back. “I nicked it from the storage at Hogwarts. They’re useful for training muggle-borns and those who are weary about flying. They’re like those cars in the muggle world that have the extra set of brakes on the passenger side.” Harry nodded and gave Hermione the broom back, wondering briefly if she had used a similar method to overcome her fear of flying. He had been surprised that she had suggested a broom at all, because as far as he knew she still wasn’t keen on using them.

“Well, hop on, then,” Hermione said, snapping Harry’s thoughts back to reality. She had already straddled the broom, and Harry moved to follow suit. “Even though the Sea Breeze is fast, it’ll still take us a few hours to get to Scotland from here, and we want to get there while it’s still dark,” she said as the broom started to rise. “Well then, here we go!”

The flight was long, but to Harry it felt like it was over in a few moments. The air was clear and pleasant, and watching the scenery roll by was fascinating – it had been two years since Harry was on a broomstick, and it was thrilling to have the wind whipping his hair again. He was a bit saddened that he no longer had the power to fly on his own – I might as well be a squib, he thought – but he didn’t let that ruin the trip.

Neither of them said a word until they touched down at Hogwarts; they had been content to fly in silence and enjoy each other’s company. Harry reluctantly dismounted from the Sea Breeze, watched Hermione do the same. They had landed near Hagrid’s hut, and Hermione was looking around expectantly.

“I told them to wait for us here,” she said. “I wonder where they got off to…”

Hermione’s voice trailed off as she caught sight of a blonde and a redhead exiting Hagrid’s hut and running towards them. Actually, Harry noted, Ginny was doing the running, and Draco was stumbling along after her. It looked like she was holding his hand and dragging him with her.

“Harry!” the youngest Weasley exclaimed, jumping into Harry’s arms and wrapping her left arm around his neck for a hug. Harry was slightly disappointed that her other hand remained firmly in Draco’s – and speaking of Draco, he looked distinctly displeased. Harry didn’t have time to say anything though, because Ginny was babbling on, and she would know if he wasn’t paying attention.

“It’s been absolutely dreadful,” she said when she stepped away from Harry. “We’ve been stuck together like this for a week now, and he really is the biggest pain in the rear that ever walked the Hogwarts grounds…”

“Not that having to listen to you all day is a bundle of roses,” Draco interrupted dryly.

“…and everybody thinks we’re dating or something, all because of this,” she went on, holding up her right hand. She was still talking, but Harry was busy peering at her hand. When she had lifted it, Draco’s left hand had gone up as well, and Harry realized that Ginny’s hand was Draco’s hand. There was only one hand! It was almost as if the hands had merged together, forming a new hand. No wonder Hermione hadn’t wanted to explain it to him; it had to be seen to be believed.

“It started off with just their fingertips,” Hermione spoke up, giving Ginny a look that practically screamed of ‘shut up’. “It’s gotten worse every day. We’ve tried to pull them apart, but—”

“It hurts like hell,” Draco finished, his gray eyes glinting angrily.

“But, isn’t it worth a bit of hand pain if it’ll separate you?”

“It isn’t just our hands,” Draco snapped. “It feels like…like…”

“Like it’s tearing our souls out,” Ginny murmured, her face looking pained at the memory.

All was silent for moment, and then Harry said, “Hermione, I think we should bring them back to the muggle hospital. I have a lab there, but I’ll be needing some more supplies, and some samples of the plant.” He paused, and said as an afterthought, “I’ll probably need your help, too. Can you take some time off every few days to help research?”

“Let me go speak with Minerva about this,” the bushy-haired woman replied. “We can get her opinion, and she can find you a room to stay in while we gather up what we need and decide what to do.” She strode off without waiting for an answer, leaving the other three to their own devices.

Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably for a moment, the silence weighing heavily on him. Not that he minded silence – the broom ride to Hogwarts had been pleasant enough – it was uncomfortable silences that he couldn’t stand. That was why he decided to break the ice a bit.

“So,” he said, “how do you two go to the bathroom, anyway?”

“I curse him blind, that’s how,” Ginny snorted, bringing a smile to Harry’s lips. He knows I won’t give him the time of day, but I can’t trust him for a second.”

“I don’t really mind,” Draco said easily. “I figure if I look at her, I’ll go blind anyway.”

“He’s just jealous of what he can’t get,” Ginny retorted, flicking an angry glare at Draco.

“What I can’t get,” Draco said, raising his voice slightly, “is why this silly bint thinks I’d ever stick my cock in her, because I wouldn’t even if she was the last woman on the planet—”

“Which is because he prefers goats to women, you see,” Ginny interrupted angrily, her face a bright red color.

“Now now, Ginny,” Draco smirked, “It isn’t the goats’ fault that they’re tighter than you…”

THWOCK!

Harry, who had been feeling like he was watching a ping-pong match, was almost relieved when Ginny swung her left arm around and socked Draco in his face, sending him sprawling to the ground. She strained to keep herself on her feet, but the blonde pulled hard on his left arm and swung his legs around to trip her up, sending her tumbling down after him. It had soon turned into a full out brawl, and Harry watched with interest until Hermione returned. She stood next to him for a moment, not saying anything.

“I guess I don’t have to warn him about her left hook after all,” he murmured.

“Aren’t you going to stop them?”

He tore his eyes away from the fight to look at Hermione as if she were crazy. “Is that what you usually do?” She nodded, and Harry sighed. “If I were to try and stop it, Ginny would start in on me next, for treating her like a baby,” he replied.

“You used to handle her just fine a few years ago,” Hermione said wryly.

“Yeah, but I had the magic to repel her curses at the time. She’d mutilate me as I am now.”

“Curses?” she said, looking slightly confused.

“Ginny’s specialty is wandless curses,” he explained. “I’m not surprised you haven’t seen her work yet. Draco must be quite good at repelling them, if he’s only been hit once,” he said, motioning back towards the fight. Hermione peered at Malfoy, and sure enough, there was a leafy green substance where a leafy green substance ought not to be.

“Oh my,” she gasped. “Are those potatoes growing out of his ears?”

“I’d reckon so,” he said with a grin. He hadn’t seen this particular jinx before; it seemed that Ginny had created some new ones since he had seen her last.

Suddenly, Ginny let out a screech and started clawing at Draco’s face furiously, looking more angry than ever. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other and nodded. It was definitely time to break up this fight.

Draco had just hexed off Ginny’s nose.

4. Chapter 4

“Merlin’s beard!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed when Harry and Hermione had finally managed to drag the two brawlers to the infirmary. “What have you two done to each other this time? Come now, sit on your bed, both of you. SIT!”

The healer was not to be denied. Ginny and Draco sat passively on an oversized bed, which had apparently been set up for their use since the accident. They were sitting as far apart as their condition would allow them, and their eyes were hard-set, though they refused to look at one another.

Madam Pomfrey tutted at them while she poured the contents of a packet into a glass of water. “Honestly, you would think the pair of you would have learned to get along by now. Here you go, Miss Weasley, drink up,” she said, handing Ginny the concoction she prepared. Ginny took the glass tentatively, and had reflexively brought the glass up to her nose to smell it before she remembered that she hadn’t a nose at the moment. She grimaced at her forgetfulness and swallowed the potion in just a few gulps, and it was only a few seconds before she yelped and dropped the glass in order to put her hand up to her face. Luckily, the glass landed on the soft bed mattress, and Madam Pomfrey quickly retrieved it before it rolled off.

“Of course it hurts, dear,” Pomfrey said in response to Ginny’s whimpering. “It’s much harder to retrieve a body part than to make it disappear. Just be glad you didn’t lose a finger or some such. Bones are much more painful to re-grow than cartilage. Just ask Mr. Potter here, he’s had first hand experience.”

Madam Pomfrey then moved to Draco and began to inspect his ears, and Ginny’s gaze flicked towards Harry. She already knew about the incident where he had lost his bones, of course. That infernal Gilderoy Lockhart had mistakenly removed them from Harry’s arm after he fell off his broom during a Quidditch match in his second year at Hogwarts. Now he was safe and sound in St. Mungo’s, suffering from memory loss. Ginny managed to smile at the memory, though her expression was slightly pained, and Harry grinned warmly back at her for reassurance.

Meanwhile, Draco had his head tilted to one side as Madam Pomfrey sprinkled some shrinking solution into his ears. He had an extremely sour look on his face, and Harry suspected that he couldn’t really hear what Madam Pomfrey was telling him to do, because she had to keep moving his head around for him when he didn’t comply right away.

“For Merlin’s sake, Virginia,” she scolded as she waited for the solution to take effect. “I thought that once Fred and George had graduated I would be a lot less busy in here. Instead, you had to pick that very year to become almost as bad as they are! I guess I should thank the lucky stars that there aren’t two of you as well…ah, here we go!”

Madam Pomfrey then harvested Draco’s potatoes, pulling them from his ears with a loud pop. Draco recoiled slightly from the noise, and shook his head some to get rid of the strange sensation that came with having one’s ears totally plugged. “Now then, Mr. Malfoy, would you like to keep your potatoes?” she asked, holding them out to him by the leaves. Harry and Hermione tried to stifle their laughter as the blond looked at the woman with disbelief.

“I thought not,” she said absently. “They’re fine looking potatoes, though. Perhaps the house elves can find a use for them.”

If the four young adults had been at all hungry before, they certainly weren’t now. Madam Pomfrey didn’t notice the disgusted looks on their faces, though she did peer at Draco intently. “Mr. Malfoy, you’re looking a bit green,” she noted, oblivious to the cause. “Perhaps you’ve strained yourself a bit too much for one night. Why don’t you rest for a while?” she suggested. He swallowed and nodded, staring nervously at the potatoes.

“You too, Miss Weasley. It should be a while before your nose finds the right shape again. Mr. Potter, Hermione, my patients need their rest. Thank you for bringing them to me right away; there’s no telling what they might have done to each other if left to their own devices.”

“No problem, Poppy,” Hermione said. “We’ve got to go speak with Minerva anyway. Don’t let them cause any trouble for you!”

***

Once they emerged into the castle corridors, Hermione turned to Harry. “Couldn’t you have fixed them up yourself?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe, but most of my cases aren’t quite that serious. Hexes tend to be a lot more troublesome than the after-effects of plants, and I don’t have enough magic to reverse some of them. Besides, I wouldn’t want to take work away from the Department of Accidental Magic now, would I?” Harry chuckled, remembering when he had caused his aunt’s head to blow up like a balloon before his third year at school.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said, and they began to walk towards McGonagall’s office, which had formerly been Dumbledore’s. “I just hope we can solve Draco and Ginny’s problem ourselves. It’s dangerous to take them to St. Mungos; we know that the former Death Eaters definitely have contacts there, and we can’t let any harm come to them. This is one time where they’d definitely be safer in Muggle care.”

Harry wholeheartedly agreed, but said nothing. They continued through the halls without comment, and Harry found himself looking at the portraits and other decorations fondly. Being at Hogwarts again made him feel very nostalgic, and he realized how much he missed being a real part of the wizarding world. He knew he didn’t really belong there anymore, though, being without magic like he was. He even had sympathy for miserable old Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts. It must be difficult knowing about magic all your life, and not being able to fully experience it on your own.

They finally reached the gargoyle that was the entrance to the Headmistress’s office. “Pickled blueberries,” Hermione stated firmly, and the gargoyle allowed them to pass. McGonagall’s passwords are just as weird as Dumbledore’s were, Harry thought with a smile as they made their way through the passage. They were soon in McGonagall’s office, and she bade them to have a seat.

“Good evening, Hermione, Harry,” she said, nodding at each of them. She seemed sterner than ever and lacked the twinkle that Dumbledore always had in his friendly blue eyes, but she had gained his knowing expression and looked upon the pair fondly. “Here to talk about our little incident?”

“Yes, Minerva” Hermione said. “We thought it would be best if we all went back to the Muggle hospital where Harry works at. The Muggles are used to seeing strange things there, and we could expand Harry’s fidelus charm to include Draco and Ginny,” she explained.

“I believe you are quite right,” McGonagall agreed. “In fact, Dumbledore suggested the same thing when I contacted him by fire with the news. He thinks he might remember something about the plant we’ve discovered, and he assures me that he will look into it. Meanwhile, I have arranged a room for Harry in the faculty wing, and he will spend a night or two here while Severus and I prepare your equipment.”

Harry remembered that Severus Snape had become Deputy Headmaster once Dumbledore retired and Professor McGonagall stepped up to fill the position. He wasn’t exactly pleased to have to deal with the hook-nosed potions professor again, but he had to admit that if it hadn’t been for Snape, Harry wouldn’t have his current position at the hospital right now. The work required a good skill with potions and recipes, after all…though he doubted that Snape would ever give him credit for his abilities. The man had loathed Harry since the very first time he set foot into Hogwarts.

“Thank you, Headmistress,” said Harry. “I really appreciate this.”

“Tut tut, Harry,” she chided with a smile. “It’s no trouble at all to make arrangements for you. And do call me Minerva.”

“Sure thing, Min,” he grinned mischievously.

McGonagall laughed. “Don’t push it, Potter!” she said. “Out with you now; Dobby will show you to your room.”

***

Upon exiting the Headmistress’s office, Harry and Hermione almost tripped over a small creature with wide eyes – the house elf known as Dobby. He hopped right back up to his feet and jumped excitedly around Harry, which was quite a sight considering that Dobby was wearing a strange assortment of clothing, many of them in the wrong places, and all of them were all sorts of different colors.

“Oh! Dobby is so happy to be seeing Harry Potter again, sir! Dobby has been missing Harry Potter for a long time, he thought maybe Harry Potter would never come back!” Harry looked slightly baffled, as he hadn’t been subjected to Dobby for the past two years and wasn’t used to him anymore.

“Uh, I missed you too, Dobby,” he said slowly. Of course, this was too much for the house elf.

“No one has ever said that to Dobby before!” the little creature said, his eyes filling with tears. “Harry Potter is just as kind, just as noble—”

“Dobby,” Hermione interrupted. Harry looked relieved. “We need you to show Harry to his room. He’s quite tired.”

“Yes, yes, of course, miss!” Dobby exclaimed as he began walking animatedly down the corridor. “Harry Potter has had a long journey! He must get some sleep.”

Hermione glanced at Harry with a smirk on her face, and he shrugged back at her, looking a bit embarrassed. They followed the house elf to the faculty wing, which wasn’t very far from the gargoyle entrance to McGonagall’s office, trying to stifle chuckles at Dobby’s incessant chattering. They were also close to the corridor where Professor Flitwick had roped off a section of swamp that had been placed there by the Weasley twins during Harry’s fifth year. Harry wondered fleetingly whether or not it was still there, but a sharp pang in his chest, and he reminded himself that he mustn’t think about that year any longer.

“Here is Harry Potter’s room!” Dobby’s voice rang out. They had stopped in front of a portrait of Queerditch Marsh, where Quidditch had first came to be. A few players were flying around, though apparently not in the middle of a game. One of them paused in midair and looked at those standing outside the portrait.

“Password?”

“The password for Harry Potter is ‘snitch stitch’,” Dobby informed them. The portrait did not wait for Harry to say the password, however, because Dobby had already said it. It swung open, and Harry turned to Hermione to say goodnight.

“Thanks for helping us,” said the bushy haired girl. “We all really appreciate it. Everyone here has been so busy, that it’s hard for anyone to find the time to help…”

“It’s no problem. Really,” he replied with a grin. “Just make sure I get up in time for breakfast tomorrow. If I’m going to have to see Snape again, I want it to be on a full stomach.”

Hermione promised she’d stop by in the morning and Harry stepped into the portrait, closing it behind him as Hermione walked away to her own quarters. He lay down on his bed without changing, starting up at the ceiling. “Now what do I do?” he said to himself. He honestly didn’t have the foggiest idea why anyone thought he could help Draco and Ginny. In all likelihood, he probably wouldn’t be able to do anything at all with them, especially since Madam Pomfrey couldn’t think of anything to help.

He rolled over onto his side with a sigh. There was still no denying that Draco and Ginny would be safer with him at the Muggle hospital, even if he really couldn’t do anything. If Draco had been pissed at Harry in 5th year for putting Lucious in jail, he was even more furious at Lord Voldemort for killing his father a year later, followed by his mother. The Dark Lord took away everything that Draco had ever cared about that night.

In a fit of anger, Draco told Dumbledore everything that Lucious had ever told him about the Dark Lord, and he had agreed to spy for the Order of the Phoenix. He even joined the light at the front lines during the final battle. The Death Eaters that were still in hiding, as well as the families of those who were killed and put in prison, wanted Draco’s blood for his betrayal.

Of course, that didn’t cause Harry to like the young Malfoy any more than Harry liked Snape, even though he knew they were both working for Dumbledore’s Order. He and Malfoy had come to an uneasy understanding, but Draco Malfoy was still an asshole, and a pompous one at that. Harry had to admit, though, that Draco had tamed down some since Voldemort was defeated.

He figured that this was because of Ginny.

Not that Harry thought Draco wanted to be nice so Ginny would like him. He reckoned it had more to do with keeping Ginny from flinging the bat bogey hex on him all the time. It was a frightening experience, being on the receiving end of that curse.

Harry closed his eyes and pushed his thoughts aside. He shouldn’t be thinking about this stuff now; he needed to get some rest so he could get through the day tomorrow. He would ask Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape what had been done for the victims already once his stomach was satiated.

And with that, he fell into a peaceful slumber.

***

Author’s Note: Sorry about another filler chapter. It probably bored you to death, but I wanted to explain some things a little bit more. I’m having a little writer’s block too; I know how to get them apart, I just don’t know what to write to get me up to that point. You know, with experiments and how they discover what it is the plant does. So if you don’t get another chapter for a while, feel free to email me with ideas!