Lost and Found

Chapter 2

Harry groaned and couldn't get anything to come into focus. It was dark. Everything was fuzzy.

"Urrrrgh." There was an answering groan from somewhere near.

Harry groped around for his glasses. They must have gotten knocked off and fallen on the ground. Only he wasn't on the ground. After fumbling around, he decided that he was in a bed.

Oh, no. It was a bed in the Infirmary. This was not good.

"Urrrrgle." There it was again. Harry managed to find his glasses on the bedside table.

"Neville?" he said wondrously.

"Uuuuuurrrrrgh," answered something that looked like Neville Longbottom from the next bed.

Not only were Neville's eyebrows singed (probably from the 'accident' in Divination class), but his face was covered with large purple boils.

This was not good.

Harry felt his own face - no boils that he could feel - but he noticed that his legs felt strangely... not there. He could feel them alright, but couldn't get them to do much of anything.

"Neville?" Harry asked again, giving up on making his legs move.

"H-h-h-harry!" came a strangled cry from the next bed.

"You weren't there, were you? At the lake, I mean."

Neville, wide-eyed, nodded his head.

"Do you know what happened?"

"Well..." Neville whispered hoarsely, "I was coming down to the lake to... give Trevor some exercise. He likes a bit of a splash now and then. And I saw you and," he gave a strangled cough," and Hermione and," he practically choked on the word, "Malfoy. Hermione was on the ground and you were getting up with your wand out. Malfoy had his wand out and then Trevor got away and I said, 'Oh no, Trevor' and I must have run in front of a curse or something because... because that's all I remember."

Harry didn't remember any of that, but it all made sense. Oh, he remembered what happened right before Malfoy showed up. The memory of that kiss still sent shivers down his spine. But after that, it was all a blur.

"Harry?" Neville asked timidly. "What were you and Hermione d-d-doing? I mean, you must have made Malfoy mad or something."

"Whah?" Harry answered stupidly. No, he didn't feel like telling Neville the truth, especially when he wasn't even sure what Hermione felt toward him.

"There's something that I want to t-" Neville began, but was interrupted by a loud bang as the Infirmary door burst open. Ron came in bearing several large white, greasy napkins, bulging with what Harry hoped was food.

"Rise and shine, you lazy rotters," said Ron cheerfully as he plopped down on Harry's bed and spread out a napkin full of toast and sausages and bacon. Harry was too hungry to say anything and started eating. Neville just stared and shook his head when Ron offered him food.

"Brilliant, Harry," said Ron, munching on a piece of toast, "catching Malfoy by the lake, but how come you couldn't wait for me? I'd have like to--"

"So do you know what happened?" Harry interrupted. Neville's story had been less than useful.

"You were duelling with Malfoy - that's what Hermione said when she came running up to the castle. She was quite a mess herself. It seems that Pansy and her gang happened to be in the neighbourhood and came running. There was quite a row there." Ron chuckled. "I think Millicent Bulstrode sat on Hermione or something before she managed to escape."

Harry's pulse quickened. "Is she - Hermione, I mean - okay?" He looked around the Infirmary quickly, just to see if she was in one of the other beds.

"Yeah!" piped Neville. "Hermione's not hurt, is she?"

"She's fine," Ron said. "In fact, she was sitting here most of last evening after you were brought in. Madam Pomfrey kicked her out at ten, though."

Harry found that his stomach was doing the same flip-flops as yesterday. Had Hermione cared enough about him to stay by his bedside?

"She left the Great Hall in a hurry this morning, though," mumbled Ron with a mouthful of sausage. "Got into a shouting match with Pansy Parkinson and stomped out. Girls." Ron shook his head.

"Up you get, Potter," said Madam Pomfrey, suddenly bustling into the room. Although the nurse was very protective of you if you were a patient, when she thought you were healed, she generally kicked you out in a hurry.

Ron hastily picked up the empty napkins and made for the door. "See ya in class, Harry," he called.

Harry found that he could stand after all and got dressed. Neville, still looking distressed (and covered in boils) seemed to want to say something else urgently.

"Harry, can I talk to you about... about..."

"What is it, Neville?" Harry said kindly.

"Er, uh, um... I'm afraid Trevor's run away."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry tried all day to catch Hermione alone. Even catching her eye was difficult. Anytime he was out in the corridors, he received sneers and rude comments from Slytherins, more than was usual.

In Potions class, Harry thought he might be able to partner with Hermione because Neville, her usual partner, was still in the Infirmary. However, Snape made Hermione work with Pansy. The looks those two exchanged could have stunned a charging hippogriff.

Meanwhile, Malfoy was alternating between staring at Hermione (which made Harry really, really angry) and staring at Harry (which made Ron really, really angry). All in all, it was the tensest Potions class since Snape made them all drink poison during their fifth year.

Hermione was absent from dinner and from the common room afterwards. Dean Thomas thought he heard Hermione say something about visiting Neville in the Infirmary or maybe she went to the library. He wasn't sure.

Harry had no stomach for a return to the Infirmary, so he spent the evening in the library pretending to read about fourteenth century campaigns for Trollish rights.

He finally gave up, after reading the same page ten times without understanding a single word, and dejectedly headed back for the common room.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco Malfoy was feeling anything but dejected as he strolled up the stairs to the Prefects' bathroom. Now that he was a prefect, he finally had access to what he considered a 'decent' bathroom. Of course, his father had made a lavish contribution to the school's governors that had paved the way for Draco's getting a spot as a Slytherin prefect. Whatever. That's always how it was.

He was so content, lost in his thoughts and in his ultra-thick velvet dressing gown, that he failed to see the flaming head of red hair blocking his path until it was too late.

"Bet you're feeling really proud of yourself, Malfoy." Ginny Weasley glared at him with her hands on her hips.

"What are you doing wandering the corridors, Weasley?" Draco said with arched eyebrows in mock-surprise. "I thought they'd make the little Gryffindor fifth years go to bed by now. Tsk. Tsk. Past your bedtime."

"I don't know what game you're playing-" Ginny began, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Oh, come on," he answered acidly. "Have you taken on the role of Defender of Harry Potter? Saving him from a vampire wasn't enough for you, eh?"

Ginny blushed hotly. "Leave that out of it." [A/N: More about how Ginny saved Harry later - or maybe a prequel]

"Do us all a favour, Weasley, and go back to being a fifth-year nobody."

"Someday there's going to be a teacher around when you hurt people like that, Malfoy," she said defiantly.

Draco smiled an evil sort of smile. He had to admit that he rather like the way that her shoulders shook and her lips quivered when she said that.

"P'raps you'll be around to save Harry Potter next time, Weasley," he said slyly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I feel a strong need to get clean."

Ginny was left standing in the corridor, watching the black velvet dressing gown disappear down the corridor. She stared at the path that he had taken for a long time after he was gone.

~*~*~*~

"Hermione?" Harry looked up to see her flowing brown hair framed in the doorway to the girls' dormitory. He had just returned to the empty common room and was sitting morosely next to the fire.

"Oh!" she said, stopping suddenly and looking around.

"I missed you. I mean, I thought that you'd gone to bed or something," Harry said as he got to his feet and took a few tentative steps toward her.

"Bed? Er, no. I was visiting Neville. He's still in the Infirmary and..." Hermione's voice trailed off and she wrapped her arms tightly around her chest.

Harry noticed that she was wearing her fuzzy pink dressing gown and her bunny slippers.

"Hermione, can we talk?" Harry said, stepping even closer. Hermione didn't make a move, which he took as a hopeful sign, but she didn't meet his eyes either.

"Mmmm? Oh, Harry..."

"I'm sorry about yesterday, Mione," he said softly, almost pleadingly, "and I wish that you'd expl-I mean, I wish we could talk about it sometime."

"It's all so confusing right now," Hermione replied, biting her lip. Then she looked up at him and smiled her dazzling smile, the one that he had been dreaming about recently, the one that he remembered from when things had been better between them. "But I promise, Harry, that-"

With a loud crash the portrait hole swung open, banging against the wall. Ron and Seamus tumbled in on top of one another, laughing even while the Fat Lady could be heard complaining about them.

"That was close!" Seamus said, still laughing as he got to his feet.

"Filch almost got us that time," Ron chortled, "but we made it back with the goods."

Ron knelt on the floor and held up a basket of assorted pastries that he and Seamus had undoubtedly pinched from the kitchens. Now that Fred and George had graduated, Ron (always on excellent terms with the house elves) had taken over the role of chief after-hours raider of the Hogwarts pantries.

"We thought we lost him when we took a detour up to the fourth floor and down the stairs by the North Tower..."

Ron was recounting his narrow brush with detention, but Harry wasn't listening. He only had eyes for Hermione.

"...and then he shows up just outside the common room!"

"C'mon, Harry, have an éclair," Seamus said, grabbing the basket and shoving it under Harry's nose.

"Hey!" Harry said irritably. But by the time he managed to push Seamus and the pastries away, Hermione was climbing out through the portrait hole.

"Where are you going?" he asked desperately.

"Off to the Prefects' bathroom," she said, turning to face him. "I need some time...to think. See you in the morning, Harry."

~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Will Harry ever get a minute alone with Hermione?? Why all the sudden interest in bathing?? Find out next time! Muahahahaha! In the meantime, please review!!!!