Harry Potter And The Fall Of Childhood

Chapter 9

Believing

"Getting rid of a delusion makes us wiser than getting hold of a truth." --Ludwig Borne.

***

Harry's nose was the first thing to awaken. Starch ... lemony freshness underlain by a sterile tang ... oh God, he knew those smells. Not again, Harry groaned silently. He didn't bother struggling for full awareness, just lay there feeling generally sorry for himself. He wondered idly what had happened this time. Maybe a fifty-foot fall from his broomstick? A Dementor attack? Duel with Malfoy? Hell, it could be one of a great number of things. Harry figured that that fact alone should tell him something about his lifestyle, but that was just too much thought right now.

Senses returned one at a time, trickling in slowly like spies reporting in. Hearing next, a low murmur of voices, more distant sounds of a busy school. Then touch, the awareness of his body sprawled out on an uncomfortable hospital bed. Oddly, he couldn't immediately pinpoint a severed limb or mangled appendage.

Finally he opened his eyes, careful not to move. As a veteran of several near-crippling accidents, Harry knew the rules by now. He could see a rectangle of crisp white sheet, and beyond it an eye-poppingly yellow robe. There was only one person who could get away with a color like that.

"Sir?" he croaked.

"Ah, Harry. About time you joined us again." The Headmaster's voice was kind and soothing as always, but there was an underlying tension and sadness which immediately set Harry on edge.

"So, what's the verdict?" he asked, risking rolling over to his side and lifting his head a little. Still no pain, just a tug where his right arm was connected to the magic drip.

"Beg pardon?" Dumbledore leaned over, smoothing the blanket.

"The verdict. Did I break anything irreplaceable? How long do I have to stay here?"

"Ah, I see." A brief smile flickered across Dumbledore's face before fading away just as rapidly. "I'm afraid it's not quite so simple. You don't remember collapsing after the Quidditch game?"

"Which...oh, right. I was walking with Alicia. I got dizzy and the ground wouldn't hold still..." Harry trailed off, frowning. If he had just fainted, why was Dumbledore looking so grave?

"Harry." A new voice entered the conversation. Harry shifted his eyes upwards as Sirius rose from a chair behind Dumbledore and approached the bed. His godfather looked quite the worse for wear, the lines of vigor and good humor Harry had been so glad to see only days before completely gone. "Harry, when was the last time you ate?" Sirius asked.

"Er, I--I don't--maybe yesterday sometime?" Harry floundered, caught off guard.

"No, Harry." Sirius looked more stern and foreboding than Harry had ever seen him. "According to the scan Madam Pomfrey ran on you, you haven't ingested anything besides water for at least three days, probably more."

"Oh," Harry said, trying to count the threads in the sheet beneath him. "I guess I forgot. Busy week, you know."

If anything, Sirius' expression darkened further. "No," he said firmly. "I'm not buying that." He paused, looking suddenly a bit lost and hurt. "Why didn't you tell me, Harry? Tell anyone you were feeling like that?"

"I didn't want to worry anybody," Harry admitted. "I thought--I thought maybe if I just waited, it would go away, like a long flu or something. I guess--you both look pretty upset--I guess I should have said something." He felt his face burning. All he'd wanted was to avoid bothering them, and he had just compounded their worries.

"That was very thoughtful of you, Harry, to try to spare us worry," Dumbledore broke in, leaning forward. "But we worry anyway. We'd much rather know what is happening with you from you yourself than to find out when you collapse." He reached out and patted Harry's shoulder. "And we could have helped you before, kept things from progressing this far."

"So I'll feel better?" Hope bloomed in Harry's chest. He'd felt off for so long he couldn't even really imagine what it would be like to feel healthy again. "Did you find what it was? I didn't think it was a curse or poison or anything, but I guess I was wrong."

"Beg pardon?" Dumbledore looked momentarily flummoxed before a flash of understanding crossed his face. "Oh dear," he murmured, glancing up at Sirius.

"There's no curse or poison," Sirius said slowly.

Harry frowned. Admittedly he didn't know much about these sorts of things, but he couldn't think of much else it could be. "What, then?" he asked.

"You really don't know?" The lost look was back and it was starting to bother Harry. He had rarely seen Sirius when the man wasn't assured, wasn't positive that his course of action was the right one.

"Know what?" He sat up, shifting his gaze between the two. "Just tell me whatever it is. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey can--"

"Oh, she can help. There are strengthening potions, nutritional supplements--" Sirius cut himself off, taking a deep breath. "Harry, you're not cursed or poisoned or affected by anything outside of your own body and mind."

"I...what?" Harry goggled at him. "But I've been sick. You said yourself I was too skinny. I haven't been eating because food makes me sick. How can you say I haven't been cursed?" It occurred to Harry momentarily how ironic it was that he was now trying to convince everyone that he was in fact ill, when a few hours earlier he would have done almost anything to hide the fact.

"Calm down, Harry." Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder. "We know you've been sick. You're nearly fifteen pounds underweight for someone your size and age, and given your height and bone structure that's a dangerous situation." He paused as if steeling himself. "But you aren't cursed. Your problem isn't magical at all."

"What are you saying?" Harry demanded. "That I've got that disease where you don't ever eat?"

"Well," Sirius began, shifting uncomfortably.

Harry spluttered. "I don't--I can't believe--there's a curse on me! If you'd just check--"

"We did," Dumbledore said, clasping Harry's other shoulder. "I performed a curse scan myself. You're not affected by one, Harry, we checked for wand signatures, curse structures, magical residues, everything. There was no sign."

"Poison then. I'm sure Snape could--" Harry was getting frantic. He *knew* he was not sick like they were saying with the sort of certainty which had never failed him in the past. There was something wrong with him and he just needed to convince them of that.

"Snape checked you over," Sirius said, sounding snappish. "There's no traces of any poison which could possibly cause your symptoms."

"But I--look, I know I'm have that disease. We watched these movies in Muggle school, this girl like a skeleton and she thought she was still fat. I'm not like that." Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and slow his speech. "Look, even if you didn't find anything, I'm absolutely positive that there's something wrong with me, like a curse or something. There are curses even you don't know about, right, Sir?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said reluctantly, "but I simply don't--"

"Exactly!" Harry continued, gesturing a little wildly. "It could be any number of things. I mean, I just gave Snape recipes for potions he thought were lost. Who knows how many more there are out there? And now that Voldemort is back--"

"Has your scar been hurting?" Dumbledore asked suddenly.

Harry paused, his thoughts derailed. "Uh, no," he said finally, a bit reluctantly. "I told you that earlier in the year, and I would have come to you if it did."

"Well then, I think we can safely say that Voldemort is not cursing you." The Headmaster squeezed Harry's shoulder firmly. "It will be much easier if you just accept what we're saying, Harry. We can't help you until you do."

Harry counted to ten, and then back to one. He breathed slowly and deeply, squeezing his eyes shut until he felt his panic and anger were under control. Only then did he lift his head and regard his companions. "Look," he said clearly, "I need you to listen to me. I know I'm not sick like you're saying. I don't want to be thinner than I am. I know I'm a little underweight. Food just makes me sick to my stomach. I started skipping meals because the smell of it in the Great Hall was enough to make me gag. I know there's something else going on here, and I need--I need you to believe me." He did his best to control the panic in his voice, but judging from the softening of Sirius's eyes and the flex of Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder, he was not successful.

"If you're so sure, why didn't you come to us before?" Sirius looked about ready to start tearing out his hair.

"Because I wasn't sure until just now." Harry realized after he said it that this wasn't helping his case any. Now he sounded like he was in denial. "I didn't want to think about it. I kept telling myself to just wait it out."

"But you show all the signs." Sirius sat down on the bed, sliding an arm about Harry's shoulders. "You're underweight, you skip meals, several members of staff have seen you out exercising in the mornings when there isn't Quidditch practice--"

"Professor Moody told us to," Harry said quickly. "I thought it was good for me."

"It is. Just not at the price of your health."

"Please." Harry tried hard to hold back his tears, but one slipped out anyway. "Please believe me. I've always been skinny anyway, and I know I'm not much to look at in the first place and it doesn't really bother me." He dashed at his eyes beneath his glasses. "Look, I didn't tell anyone until now because I didn't want to think about it. I've always suspected it was a curse or something, but I just didn't want to deal with it. Now--now that you think I'm--I just need you to understand..."

"Alright, settle down, child." Dumbledore took his hand. "I think I understand."

"So you believe me?" Harry looked up hopefully into Dumbledore's blue eyes.

"I won't rule out the possibility," Dumbledore said carefully. At Harry's hurt look, he hurried on. "Harry, I can't rule out the possibility that you are indeed ill and simply won't admit it, it would not be responsible of me to do so. But I will continue checking for curses and such on your claims." He paused again, looking suddenly old. "But there are conditions."

"Yes?"

"I had originally planned to send you to St. Mungo's for at least a week to get your weight back up." He held up a hand as Harry began to protest. "I realize now that that would not be the best idea. The press would undoubtedly get wind of it and it would not be good for you."

"So what are you going to do?" Sirius asked, holding Harry close.

"Harry will take a strength restoring potion and a nutritional booster each day. The first should prevent him from collapsing again, and the second should help him gain the weight back." He paused, and seemed to brace himself. "I will also summon my brother Aberforth. He has experience in both magical and Muggle psychological treatments and I'm sure he would be glad to--"

"I'm not going to see a psychologist!" Harry sat up again, pulling away from a startled Sirius. "The last thing I need is to have my private thoughts invaded." He had never spoken to either Sirius or Dumbledore like this, but Harry couldn't find the energy to feel guilty.

"This is not up for discussion." Dumbledore looked implacable, and if Harry didn't feel so desperate he would never have tried to sway the Headmaster.

"Look, I'll take the potions. And I'll go to every single meal and Hermione and Ron can keep track of how much I eat for you. I just really don't want to go to a psychologist." He knew he was descending into begging, but the manipulative part of him, the part he liked to think of as Slytherin when he acknowledged it at all, knew that it would affect Sirius if not Dumbledore.

Sure enough, his godfather stirred behind him. "Albus, if Harry really doesn't want to see Aberforth, I doubt any progress will be made if we force him. As long as he promises to take his potions and eat regularly, I don't see what else we can do."

Dumbledore hesitated. "You are, of course, Harry's guardian, in spirit if not in law. If this is really how you feel, I will not force the matter." He rose, looking suddenly stern. "However, I will not hesitate to summon Aberforth if we do not find the cause of your illness in a reasonable amount of time, Harry."

"Yes sir," Harry agreed, an immense weight lifted from him. He wouldn't mind taking the potions, and he figured if he tried hard enough he could probably sit through meals. "Will you keep looking for curses, though?"

"Yes." Harry was surprised when Dumbledore bent over and lightly kissed his forehead. A warm glow spread from the spot just below his scar, filling him from the top of his head to his toes with a feeling of comfort and contentment. "I trust your instincts, Harry, and it is not unreasonable to think that you may be affected by some dark magic or potion. I will look into it for you." His stern demeanor returned as he stood straight again. "But I will be watching you, as will Madam Pomfrey and your friends, as soon as I speak to them. Whether it is a curse or not, it is dangerous and we need to get to the bottom of this." He moved to go, his smile returning. "Sirius, I will be sending in Harry's friends as soon as I have a word with them. In the meantime, I think Harry would do well to eat something." With a flick of his wand, a tray laden with a steaming bowl and cup appeared and floated over to the side table.

"Thanks, Albus," Sirius said, standing and heading for the tray.

"Of course. And do please inform me if you feel anything else, Harry."

"Of course, sir," Harry said, accepting the tray and positioning it on his lap.

There was an odd sort of silence for several minutes after Dumbledore left. Harry ate slowly and carefully, glad that the broth had little odor. Sirius watched him with an unsettling intensity, his eyes never straying. Finally, Harry couldn't stand it anymore.

"I'm not going to banish it if you look away, you know."

Sirius smiled only a little. "You weren't lying, were you?" he asked.

"Of course not. I don't even have my wand." Harry sipped at the tea. This really wasn't so bad if he took it slow.

"That's not what I meant." Sirius started pacing, clasping and unclasping his hands. "To Albus. You really think it's a curse?"

"Yes, I do." Harry set down his spoon. He hoped half the bowl would satisfy Sirius because he really didn't think he could manage any more. "I honestly think it's a curse."

"Alright." Sirius sat down again on the edge of the bed. "As long as you're sure, I'll stick with it. I only asked Albus to leave Aberforth out of things because it seemed to distress you so much." He paused, cocking his head. Harry knew very well what he was asking but had absolutely no intentions of answering. "In any case," Sirius continued, "I trust your instincts as much as Albus does." His lips tightened and his eyes narrowed on Harry. "But if I find out that there is no curse or poison or anything, I won't hesitate to take action to help you, whether you like it or not."

Harry nodded mutely, partly touched and partly hurt. It was an odd assortment of feelings and it made his chest ache. "Okay," he said finally.

The ensuing silence was interrupted by a knock at the door. Sirius transformed immediately, then scrambled the rest of the way onto the bed as the door opened.

Harry looked up, smiling and nodding at Ron, Hermione, and, to his pleasant surprise, Padma.

"Hullo, guys," he said.

"Hi, Harry. And Snuffles!" Hermione hurried over, hugging Harry tightly then giving Sirius a scratch as the big dog settled at the foot of the bed.

"Hey, mate," Ron patted Sirius as he passed, taking the chair Dumbledore had used. "You feeling all right?"

"Yeah." Harry gestured at the drip. "I think there's some sort of strengthening potion in there. Probably nutritional supplements, too."

"You should finish that," Padma said, speaking for the first time as she timidly patted Sirius's head and gestured at the tray in Harry's lap.

"Oh, er, I really--"

"Don't make me feed you."

"Yes'm," Harry said meekly, lifting his spoon again. Somehow, it seemed easier to eat with them all there surrounding him, no matter how weird it felt to have them all (including Snuffles) watching him like hawks as he ate.

The talk was desultory at first. Harry was dismayed to realize just how worried they all were about him. He didn't know what Dumbledore had told them, but he supposed it didn't particularly matter what they thought. They would be watching him as closely as all the teachers probably would be.

Padma perched at the end of the bed, apparently quite taken with 'Snuffles' as she scratched and petted him. Snuffles himself ate it up, flopping over on his back for a belly rub and giving her mega-puppy-eyes.

Finally, in near desperation to start a conversation where the answers weren't forced or stilted, Harry turned to Ron and asked him what he thought of the Ravenclaw performance at the match. From there on things relaxed exponentially. Harry and Ron became engrossed in the analysis of Chaser technique and Beater striking angles. Harry could vaguely hear Hermione and Padma chatting a little about Snuffles and the upcoming Charms quiz. He smiled inwardly. Those two were too much alike not to get along well. The fact pleased him, and it was a disappointment to them all when Madam Pomfrey poked her head in to tell them to run off to their common rooms.

Padma lightly kissed Harry's cheek, smoothing his hair in a manner reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley. Hermione and Ron looked on in amusement, before bestowing their own hugs or arm squeezes.

Harry sat back when they were gone, still smiling a little. It had been nice to have all three of them there, two the friends he couldn't live without and one the girl who made his insides flutter.

"I like her," Sirius said, transforming again and sitting in the chair.

"Hmm? Oh, you mean Padma." Harry smiled down at him. "You approve?"

"Sure. She smells good," Sirius grinned.

"Prat." Harry yanked a pillow from the stack behind him and launched it at his Godfather. Sirius caught it neatly and hurled it right back. From there things just descended into feathery chaos until they were both lying side by side on the bed, panting lightly.

"Seriously though," Sirius continued, rolling to face Harry. "I really like her. She's a dog person. Laugh all you want," he continued, giving the snickering Harry a look, "but it really means more than you'd think. You can tell a lot about a person from how they treat dogs."

"I suppose," Harry agreed. "But I just think you like anybody who will scratch behind those mangy ears of yours."

"Mangy?" His godfather looked outraged, but the look melted away as Harry gasped and sat up. "Harry? Everything--"

Harry leapt off the bed, casting about for a moment before bolting towards the bathroom door. He burst through and sank to his knees before the loo as he lost most of the soup he'd just so painstakingly eaten.

A pair of warm hands gripped his shoulders afterward. Sirius helped him stand shakily, and pressed a washcloth into his hands.

"Alright?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Yeah." Harry looked at his godfather in the mirror. "You believe me now?"

Sirius nodded soberly. "Yes. I--" He grabbed Harry suddenly, crushing him in a tight hug. "We'll find out what's wrong and get you well again, I promise."

"Good," Harry said as his godfather helped him back to the bed. "Because I'm really getting tired of this."

"Just promise me something?" Sirius fussed a little with the sheets as Harry settled down.

"Sure."

"Tell someone next time. Whether you feel sick for a long time or just have a toothache, please tell someone. We want to help you, and I know I worry more when I know you're withholding things." Sirius looked at him steadily, a little pleadingly.

"I promise," Harry yawned. "And I'll try really hard to eat more."

"Good lad." There was no mistaking the affection in Sirius' voice, and it felt quite a bit like Dumbledore's light kiss had. "Go to sleep now. I'll be here when you wake up."

Harry did so, snuggling up to the pillow and smiling fuzzily as his godfather added a muttered, "As long as that insane bint who runs this place doesn't boot me out." But before he could answer, darkness swallowed his tired mind.

***

Harry grumbled a little and adjusted the mountain of pillows on his bed. Madam Pomfrey had absolutely refused to release him before Sunday night, so he had another twelve hours or so to kill. Hermione had stopped by that morning to drop off his school books and parchments, including the library books he'd checked out for his History of Magic project. He'd pretended to be annoyed and offended when she'd commented that being bedridden was the only way he was going to pass his O.W.L.s, but he was actually rather pleased. He would never tell Hermione, or anybody else for that matter, but the research for the History of Magic report was actually a little enjoyable.

But nothing could make sitting around in the hospital wing more interesting, and all Harry could really do was scowl and bear it as Madam Pomfrey fussed and tutted, then fed him the two potions. She'd added a third one to prevent nausea after seeing the greenish cast to his skin after his meager breakfast, and it seemed to be working so far.

She had, in fact, booted out the hapless Snuffles before Harry had woken that morning, and no amount of pleading would make her relent on letting "that mangy, unsanitary beast" back in.

Harry adjusted the Potions book he was using as a writing surface and flipped through one of his library books. Hermione had practically squealed when she'd seen Hogwarts, A History in his stack of books, but he had just stuck out his tongue and ignored her. It was, of course, more about Hogwarts itself than Godric Gryffindor, but there were interesting little tidbits of information scattered about.

"It is a little-known fact that the symbol for the Gryffindor House was not originally intended to be the lion. Gryffindor himself wished it to be a phoenix, a fact which is probably based on his legendary affinity for the creatures. When he reappeared after his supposed death, Gryffindor was accompanied by a magnificent gold and white phoenix, making him one of the few recorded humans to be paired with one. Since that time several wizards have also been chosen by phoenixes, including the great Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts, and Michael Krieger, the man who dedicated his life to medical magic, and who is credited with many of the most important advances this millennium.

"It is not known precisely why Gryffindor's plans for the mascot of his house changed, but they obviously did. Incidentally, upon Gryffindor's death, the phoenix who accompanied him simply flew away and was never seen again."

Harry scribbled down a few notes, though his mind was otherwise occupied. He hadn't realized how rare it was for Fawkes to stay with Dumbledore. He wondered if it was important that Gryffindor, Dumbledore, and this Krieger fellow were all light wizards. Probably, he figured. From what he'd seen of Fawkes, the species seemed to be part of light magic itself

On a whim, Harry put aside Hogwarts, A History and reached for his Care of Magical Creatures book. Since Professor McKinnon was teaching this term, the book did not bite, snarl, growl, or otherwise act up--a fact which was a great relief to pretty much everybody. He skimmed down the index, past Ovimes and Pakes...and there it was, "Phoenix."

Harry flipped to the right chapter and gawked at the full-color moving photograph of a phoenix which was a dead ringer for Fawkes. In fact, as he skimmed the caption, Harry saw that it was Fawkes, taken only a few years earlier. Harry watched the phoenix stretch and groom his wings, smiling at the warm feeling he got from just watching the magnificent creature, before he turned the page and began reading.

The book skipped its usual information about genus and mating habits and went straight to the interesting bits, much to Harry's delight. He read with interest about the many different colors of phoenix, the properties of their tears, and their amazing strength. Finally, several pages in, he found the information he really wanted.

"It is extremely rare for a phoenix to choose to partner with a human. Interestingly, though perhaps not surprisingly, all chosen humans have been light wizards. Their ranks have included such venerable wizards as Godric Gryffindor and Albus Dumbledore. It is not known if this is the main quality phoenixes look for, but there is very little other information to go on. The phoenix usually joins the wizard sometime after the teenage years and stays with him or her until death, at which time the phoenix simply disappears.

"As for these disappearances themselves, there are several theories. No human has ever discovered how phoenixes reproduce. It can be assumed from their generally avian construction that they lay eggs, but it seems extraordinary that no one has ever discovered a phoenix nest or other habitation. Furthermore, a Magizoologist by the name of Cuthbert Squeak once tagged a phoenix with a magical tracker, attempting to track it and discover its destination. To Squeak's dismay, the tracker simply stopped functioning when the Phoenix reached a place deep in the magical forests south of Hogsmeade. The tracker was not broken, however, for it resumed its work about three days later when the phoenix reappeared in the exact spot from which it had vanished and returned to humankind.

"It is theorized from this and several other curious events that phoenixes have access to realms or dimensions beyond our own. All such occurrences happen deep in ancient and magical forests. When humans investigated several such locations, they found the beginnings of a rune language that has yet to be deciphered. The runes are formed by the growth of tree branches, a rock formation, or even scored deeply into the earth. They were not even apparent for what they were for several years, until the brilliant runes expert Petra Verbum spotted a pattern in these locations as she traveled with her Magizoologist husband. There are only five such runes collected, for several are duplicated over multiple sites. Some theorists believe that the few characters we have are a phoenix language, and their method of traveling to this other dimension, but this is merely speculation."

Harry paused, a little surprised. His textbook rarely indulged in speculation and theory, and he suspected that it did so here only to help make up for an extreme lack of information. But he jotted down the interesting bits anyway, his lips curling up a little as he thought about 'padding.'

Harry was buried again in Hogwarts, A History when Ron and Hermione returned for a lunchtime visit. Harry was abruptly jerked out of his fixed concentration when Ron seized the book from his hands, exclaiming, "Bloody hell! Not you too. That blasted book--it's a conspiracy I tell you!"

And then of course Hermione took the book from Ron and thumped him over the head with it, and soon Madam Pomfrey came in and frowned at them for disturbing her apparently very delicate patient. That just set off another round of giggles until the nurse finally left, tutting and frowning all the way.

"Thanks for visiting," Harry said, reclaiming the book before any permanent damage could be done. "It's been way too quiet in here."

"Sure." They each took a chair on either side of him, Hermione taking and squeezing his hand.

Harry gave her a slightly irritated look for that, watching out of the corner of his eye as Ron did the same. "I'm not an invalid, you know," Harry said a little grumpily. "Just a little knackered, and food doesn't agree with me."

"That's actually kinda why we're here." For one of the first times he could ever remember, Hermione Granger looked unsure and uncomfortable.

"Oh?" Harry pulled his hand away, beginning to suspect what was up. "Alright," he sighed. "Go ahead and get it over with." He braced himself for a Hermione lecture, probably punctuated by Ron's glares and affirmative noises. He was completely unprepared for Hermione to scramble up onto the bed and hug him like she would never let go. He was just as surprised to feel Ron on his other side, his strong hands clasping Harry's shoulders.

"We're not going to lecture you," Hermione said into his shoulder.

"Even though we really should," Ron put in.

"You're not?" Harry was mystified.

"No." Hermione pulled back and scowled at him. "No lectures. You just need to know that if you ever keep anything like this from us again you'll be in big trouble."

"Yeah," Ron said, squeezing Harry's shoulders as punctuation.

"I'm sorry I didn't--I mean I didn't want--"

"Oh, haven't I already told you you're an idiot?" Hermione reached up and patted his cheek. "A wonderful idiot, but an idiot nonetheless."

"I guess I forgot," Harry answered, something huge and wonderful squeezing inside him. "But I really am sorry. I promised Sirius last night that I would tell someone next time I'm in trouble--and let's face it, it's going to happen--and I'll promise you the same thing."

"You better." Ron finally released Harry's shoulders and sat back in his chair.

"And just so you know," Hermione continued, following Ron's example, "We'll both be watching you. You better take your potions and be at every meal and deal with those four food groups."

"I figured as much," Harry said. Amidst all the love he held for these two precious people, he couldn't find it in himself to resent their care.

"Four food groups?" Ron frowned. "They don't serve all four at every meal."

Hermione frowned back. "Yes they do. There's always a bread basket, and beef or pork and--"

"Bread?" Ron wagged a finger at her. "You're misinformed, Miss Prefect."

"I am?" Hermione looked like she knew very well she was walking into one of Ron's notoriously bad jokes, but she didn't seem to care. Harry couldn't suppress a smile, watching them. It was like an endlessly interesting, always fluctuating Quidditch match.

"Sure." Ron sat forward, looking quite serious. "There's the Chocolate Frog group, the Butterbeer group, the all kinds of pumpkin goodness group, and the Every Flavor beans group."

"Wait, shouldn't Every Flavor Beans be in all the groups?" Harry asked. "I mean, I got a linoleum flavored one once, and another time this caramel coffee."

"Hmm, you're right." Ron frowned in thought. "So if they're in every category, what is the fourth?"

"Anyhow," Hermione said breezily. "How's the research going, Harry?"

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and just fine," Harry answered them both.

"That's an awful broad category. I mean there's quite the difference between Canary Creams and Feather Duster Follies."

"Have you found anything interesting? I know Hogwarts, A History has a rather extensive section on the Founders, both as individuals and as a group."

"Maybe Fizzing Whizbees. I mean, they seem pretty important for the functioning of the universe..."

"I ran across the most interesting book after checking the Bibliography. You should look through it. It's about all the founders, particularly Gryffindor and Slytherin, interestingly enough..."

***

Harry inhaled deeply as the trio slipped out the main doors of Hogwarts. It was about nine o'clock on Monday morning and the air tasted like heaven. As they crossed the lawn to join the rest of the Care of Magical Creatures class, Harry slowed down a little, forcing Ron and Hermione to do the same.

"Come on, Harry. We're going to be late." Hermione tugged at his sleeve before giving up and casting Ron a pleading look.

"It's a really nice day," Harry sighed. The grass beneath their feet held only the littlest traces of dew now, and the few trees dotted about were all surrounded by mounds of colored leaves. The trees always lost their leaves earlier in Scotland; they knew it would be a long winter to come.

"That's nice," Ron said, tugging at Harry's other sleeve.

"Sorry." Harry picked up his pace. "Just too much time in the hospital wing, I guess. Even two days is too much."

He wished he hadn't said it the moment it came out. There was an awkward silence, and Hermione increased her pace to a near-jog. Harry grimaced, hurrying to keep up.

The morning had thus far not been particularly pleasant. It had started out well enough with the usual trials of getting Ron out of bed. The trouble had started when they got to the breakfast table.

Harry drank his potions just fine, but after that he felt perfectly full. Hermione had resorted to threatening a return to the tender mercies of Madam Pomfrey if he didn't finish the slice of toast she had put on his plate and slathered with butter. Even now the toast sat like a lead ball in Harry's stomach, which gurgled uneasily.

Both his friends, as well as a silent but watchful Ginny, had frowned at him all the way through breakfast, alternately commanding and pleading. The whole thing had been an ordeal for all of them, his friends not knowing what to do and Harry simply unable to eat anything more, as much as he would have liked to if only to shut them up.

"Alright, you three. That's everyone here. Let's get started." Professor McKinnon's cheery voice cut into Harry's reverie as the trio skidded to a halt in the line of waiting Gryffindors and scowling Slytherins. "Today we'll be starting a small aquatic unit, so let's all move over to the lake shore for some basic lessons on the structure of a magical aquatic ecosystem."

"I hate to say it," Ron muttered as they all trooped off after her, "but this is a lot better than some of Hagrid's lessons."

"Yeah." Harry agreed. "But he'll be back after Christmas, Dumbledore said, so enjoy it while you can before we're back to things that bite and crunch and flame."

"I wonder what he's doing though, that could take so long," Ron continued.

"Oh, honestly." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll never understand how you two have survived so long in the scrapes you get into, the way you miss everything."

"What did we miss?" Harry asked, more curious than irritated. He was too used to Hermione's ways for that.

"He's gone to the giants, probably with Madam Maxime I'd guess." Hermione sniffed again. "Like ambassadors, you know, trying to get there before You-Know-Who can."

"Won't do any good," Ron snapped. "The giants'll go with You-Know-Who no matter what. They just like to plunder and kill and do the whole chaos thing."

Hermione stopped, glaring. "Oh? Like Hagrid and Madam Maxime? I've never met a gentler man than Hagrid. Really, Ron," she continued, her eyes flashing a little, "you need to let go of all the prejudices and stereotypes you harbor. Why, if you just replaced 'Giant' with 'Mudblood' in your opinions you'd sound like a Slytherin!"

"Hermione Granger, friend to the downtrodden. First house elves who don't want her help, now giants who'd just as likely step on her as care." Ron stopped himself, matching her glare for glare.

"Er, how about we just keep heading for the lake?" Harry said carefully.

"Fine." Hermione stepped to Harry's side, sliding an arm through his firmly. Harry felt quite a bit like the rope in a game of tug-of-war as Ron came to life behind them and seized Harry's other arm as they headed for the shore.

Twenty minutes later, the Gryffindors and Slytherins were spread about for several hundred yards along the lake shore, each kneeling down to grub about in the damp earth at the edge of the lake for Flobberworms. Harry was glad for the spacing, if not for the task. Ron and Hermione were on either side of him, but luckily too far away from each other, and Harry, to increase his already mounting headache. He wished wholeheartedly that they would just get it over with and start dating. Maybe then things would settle down and he could stop feeling like he had to choose sides in everything.

"Doing alright, Mr. Potter?" Professor McKinnon knelt down beside him, seemingly unconcerned that her robe was splattered in mud.

"No worms yet," Harry said, peering into the hole he had dug. "Got some sort of crab thing, though."

"Oh my, careful with that. They can spray dye if they get upset enough, nasty orange color that really wouldn't go with your complexion."

"You know this from experience?" Harry smiled up at her. He still couldn't put his finger on it, but he liked this woman.

She laughed and nodded a little. "Got me full across the face and half my hair. Took both the nurse and the Potions professor at the time to get me straightened out." She paused as they laughed and then looked down at Harry again. "By the way, Mr. Potter, excellent game on Saturday. I hear it was your first match as captain?"

"Yeah." Harry sat back, abandoning his work with the uncooperative mud. "I was rather terrified."

"You didn't look it." She leaned close as if to impart a secret. "The staff is supposed to be impartial, of course, but I'm rather fond of Gryffindor. Always glad to see them doing well."

"Any particular reason?"

"Well, aside from the fact that I was a Gryffindor, not particularly." She grinned at Harry's surprise. "Yes, I attended Hogwarts, oh, an eon ago, I would say."

"Wow." Harry sat back on his heels, setting down his wand and trowel. "Was it really different an eon ago?"

"Oh goodness, that's a difficult question." She paused, considering. "And not one I think I could possibly answer in a timely fashion. Catch me sometime out of class and we can have tea."

"I'd like that," Harry said, bending back to his work. "Oh, Professor?" he called as McKinnon stood and moved to check on Ron.

"Yes?"

"I do have a question about magical creatures." He stood up as well, brushing mud off his robes as best he could. "About phoenixes, actually."

"Well, that's also a big issue." She paused, almost hesitating. "I grew up with one about sometimes, so I know something about them."

"Really? Where is it now?"

"Oh, he's still around somewhere or other." She waved a hand vaguely. "We can chat about phoenixes some other time as well, if you like."

"Sure." Harry nodded affably. "I didn't really have a specific question, more curious about them in general than anything. I just ran across a reference to one in some History research and it got me thinking."

"Good lad." McKinnon patted his arm warmly. "Intellectual curiosity will rarely serve you ill." She nodded to his trowel over her shoulder as she moved on to Ron, and Harry took the hint as he bent back to his damp work. He felt like he'd just made a new friend ... no, that wasn't quite right. It felt more like he had just discovered a friend that was already there.

Shrugging off such odd notions, Harry simply bent back to his task, grinning in somewhat disgusted triumph as he finally unearthed a wriggling mass of white worm bodies.

***

Saturday finally arrived, and more than half of the school went streaming out the main doors towards Hogsmeade. It was a typical October day, cold and sharp. The sun was out, but it was a sickly, pallid thing that did little more than provide too-bright light.

Harry and his companions moved along towards the back of the group. It had been hard to track down Padma in the milling throng of students from every house and year, especially given her small stature, so they had gotten something of a late start.

Ron and Hermione were in one of their silent phases, and Harry couldn't decide whether to be grateful or even more worried. But Padma's hand was soft and warm in his and she walked close beside him, the curls of her ears turning a delightful pink from the cold and her eyes shining. Just ahead, Harry could see Ginny and Neville walking together, but whether it was just chance or a pre-arranged occurrence, Harry couldn't tell.

"Do you have anywhere in particular you need to go?" Harry asked Padma.

"I wouldn't mind stopping by Gladrags and looking at the winter cloaks, but besides that no, not really."

Harry hesitated a moment. On the one hand he didn't feel it would be wise to leave Ron and Hermione to their own devices right about now. They might just rip each other's tongues out in the main street of Hogsmeade. But on the other hand this was supposed to be some sort of a date for Padma and him, and didn't 'date' imply alone?

"What about you two?" he finally threw over his shoulder.

"I need to get to Honeydukes," Ron replied immediately, "and then a Butterbeer sounds good."

"I don't really have much to do," Hermione chimed in, "but a Butterbeer does sound just the thing right about now."

Harry grinned in relief. Maybe things would be alright with them after all. "How about you two head off to Honeydukes and then the Three Broomsticks? Padma and I are heading for Gladrags and we'll meet you for a Butterbeer later."

Both Ron and Hermione looked a little dubious, but Harry was saved as Ginny turned in front of them. "I want to go to Honeydukes too," she said. "How about you, Neville?"

"Sure. I'm out of chocolate frogs," Neville said.

Harry locked eyes with Ginny and mouthed a sincere "thank you." She just smiled a little and nodded, making Harry realize for the first time how much she'd grown up in the past four years.

They all had, of course, but it was still funny not to view Ginny as a little girl, but as a young woman, practically their age. He found it easy to forget she was around because she tended not to talk much. But, as she had just proven, she was no slouch when it came to observation.

"Right then. See you guys later," Harry said as he and Padma split from the other four as they reached the Hogsmeade main street. They strolled along slowly, neither in much of a hurry and both of them enjoying the leisurely pace of the day.

Students scattered to the four corners of the town around them, some to the shops, others to see parents and relatives in the area. As they turned left onto Dragonelle Avenue, Harry could have sworn he saw the blonde head of Draco Malfoy peering around the edge of a building, but he was gone when Harry looked again. Shrugging and resolving to keep an eye out for the tricky Slytherin, Harry picked up his pace a bit and continued his chat with Padma about his friends.

"That was really nice of Ginny," she was saying. "I was about to suggest that you and I go with them and just skip Gladrags. They really looked like they didn't want to be alone together."

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "They have these fights, big screaming things where they just are all over each other. It usually takes them a few days to settle down." He sighed as they approached the flashy entrance of Gladrags. "Sometimes I just get really tired of it."

"Understandable." Padma smiled her thanks as he held the door open for her, then reclaimed his hand as they wound their way into the busy shop. "It must be hard being a threesome. It's a difficult number."

"Always somebody left out," Harry agreed, watching as Padma began flipping through a rack of thick, warm-looking cloaks of various colors. "Oooh, what about that one?"

Padma paused at the rich red cloak Harry had pointed out, studying it. "That is nice. And it has warming charms guaranteed to last at least six months...I wonder if this fabric is sizing charm repellent. They do that sometimes, you know, to make sure you keep buying more when you grow."

"Actually I didn't know." Harry put his hands in the pockets of his robes a little self-consciously. "I've actually never been clothes shopping, Wizard or otherwise."

"Really?" Padma blinked at him over a stack of multi-colored garments. "Not with those Muggles?"

"The Dursleys?" Harry laughed a little bitterly. "Not hardly. They just gave me their son's cast-offs which were usually three times too big. Aside from my Hogwarts robes, I've never been clothes shopping."

Padma stared at him a moment longer before setting down her load with a decisive look. "Right then," she said, taking him firmly by the arm. "Let's go."

"Go? But you haven't picked out a cloak yet," Harry protested as she started tugging on him.

"Oh, I can get that later." She succeeded in getting him moving, and to his surprise she turned him towards the back of the store instead of the entrance.

"Where are we going?" he demanded as she drew him past racks of formal wear for both sexes, and then through pajamas.

"To the men's section, of course."

"But you're a girl." He gawked about him as they finally came to a stop surrounded by shelf upon shelf and rack upon rack of robes and trousers and shirts.

"I am," Padma laughed, "but you are a boy." She enunciated each word carefully and clearly.

"We're shopping for me?" Harry asked, trailing after her again this time without prompting as she began to peruse the shelves of wizard enhanced Muggle clothes.

"You said you'd never been shopping before, and I got the funny feeling you might need some clothes that actually fit." She paused to pluck a pair of dark blue trousers off a rack and examine the tag. "Hmm, I'll add about fifteen pounds to your weight because you're going to gain that back soon." She gave him a meaningful glare as she said this and Harry winced. "Length should be about right ... and these have that neat new wrinkle-free charm."

"But I really don't need clothes. I have plenty of things to wear." Harry protested, watching in slight apprehension as the pants seemed to multiply in Padma's grasp, sprouting different colored offspring and then shirts and robes.

"Hold this," was all Padma said, thrusting her stack at him before plunging back in. Harry decided that shutting up was the better part of valor and just accepted the nearly staggering weight of clothes.

***

An hour later Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he inhaled the cold but fresh air as they left the store. Padma looked very fetching in the red cloak, but Harry suspected she only got it to distract him. Harry himself was struggling to juggle an armload of packages as they moved up the street. Padma certainly knew how to shop, and Harry had to admit that shopping wasn't nearly as bad as Ron always made it sound. But still, he'd gotten rather tired of shuffling in and out of outfit after outfit, and then modeling for Padma and an ever-growing crowd of sales girls. He wondered a little morosely if they wouldn't all have giggled and whispered if he weren't Harry Potter.

"Here, let me take some of those." Padma plucked several packages off the top of the precarious pile and grinned up at Harry. "I really like those new dress robes. You looked positively devastating."

"Thanks. Wonder if there'll be another ball this year?" Harry grinned back, shifting his remaining packages so he could take her hand.

"Hmm, don't know. It would be nice though." She winked at him. "A lot less trouble when I have my own boyfriend to take me instead of panicking over getting a date."

"I know exactly what you mean. Last year was hideous." Harry rolled his eyes. "And the fact that I can't dance to save my life didn't help."

"I could help you with that. Parvati and I took ballroom dancing classes for a few years."

"Really? I'd like to learn. It would be nice not to look like such an idiot out there. Alright, where in the world are they?" The two of them pushed through the main doors of the Three Broomsticks and squinted around. The little pub was bursting with exuberant students and neither could immediately spot their friends. "Oh, there's Ron." Harry began working his way across the room, Padma in tow.

"Handy to have tall, red-headed friends, isn't it?" she asked.

"In crowds, definitely. For stealth, no."

"Well, you don't need to be worried about stealth, mister. No sneaking around this year, remember?" Padma punctuated her words with a finger between the shoulder blades as they approached the table.

"Hullo, you two," Ginny greeted. "What took you so long?"

"Shopping." Harry dropped his packages and frowned around the table. "Uh, I don't suppose there's any chance of getting another chair?"

"Oh, dear." Hermione frowned at the single seat, but then grinned up at Harry. "Well, Padma is small, she'll fit just fine on your lap."

"I suppose," Harry muttered, glancing about for a moment in hopes of spotting an empty chair. But his hopes were in vain, every available seat was taken. Shrugging, he took the seat and felt himself blushing madly as Padma settled timidly on his lap. Hermione was right though, he discovered. Padma was small enough not to be uncomfortable, and Harry could easily see around her.

He carefully leaned over behind Padma to Ginny who sat beside him. "How'd things go?" he murmured.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, it's alright now. First half hour was rather tense. Neville and I had to walk between them and stuff. Really, sometimes I wonder how old they are."

Harry rolled his eyes himself. "Thanks, though. I know staying with them isn't the greatest way to spend a Hogsmeade day."

"It's alright." Ginny looked away, her expression a little strained. "I know you and Padma wanted to go off on your own. At least someone could have a good time with their sweetheart."

Harry blinked. She'd sounded positively vindictive at that last, a tone he'd never heard from Ginny before. But before he could ask what was up, the harried looking waitress arrived to take his and Padma's orders.

"That's a lovely cloak, Padma," Hermione said as the woman left.

"Thanks." Padma smoothed a hand over the rich cloth. "I actually got Harry to buy some new clothes, too. That's what took so long."

"Some?" Harry gave her an incredulous look. "I got enough clothes to wear straight through for a month without washing anything!"

"And they all looked lovely on you," she replied.

"They had a whole bunch of samples out at Honeydukes," Ron said, looking dreamy. "These new chocolate cluster things..."

"We nearly had to drag him out." Hermione's tone was acerbic but Harry was delighted to see the friendly warmth in her eyes as she gazed at Ron. He gave a little sigh of relief. There would be at least a few days of peace before the next row, or so he hoped.

"Well Potter, it seems you've made a great philosophical discovery." The table collectively groaned as Draco Malfoy materialized out of the crowd, Crab and Goyle at his heels.

"What now?" Harry asked warily. He really didn't like the feral gleam in Malfoy's eyes, an expression of satisfied triumph.

"If it's not willingly given, buy it." Malfoy flicked his eyes to Padma with a sneer. His meaning was obvious.

"I thought that was the Malfoy family motto," Ron cut in, rising to his feet.

To everyone's surprise, Draco completely ignored him aside from an irritated look. "Really, Potter," he continued, "why didn't you just pay for the services of Weasley over there." He jerked a thumb at Ginny, who went white then red. "Her family could surely use the money and I'm sure she'd be only too pleased to help you out."

"You son of a Death Eater!" Ron got only one step before Hermione and Neville both clamped onto the back of his robes.

But Harry had no such impediments. Lifting Padma off his lap, he stood to face Malfoy.

"Leave Ginny and Padma alone. If you have something of use to say, get it over with. If not, get lost and leave us to enjoy our day," he ground out.

Harry was disconcerted by the look on Malfoy's face, like Christmas had come early. He prepared himself for some cutting retort, or even a physical attack. It wouldn't be smart in front of all these students, but Malfoy wasn't always the sharpest tack in the box.

But to Harry's great surprise, Malfoy simply grinned at him before turning and facing Neville. He lifted both hands, splaying the fingers out then snapping his wrists up to shape an odd symbol with his arms and hands.

"Neville Longbottom," he said clearly and precisely, "Harry Potter is my mortal enemy."

Neville blinked at him, looking momentarily dazed, then just confused. "Huh?" he asked.

"It's nice to know I rank up there on the enemy scale at 'mortal'," Harry snapped, eying Malfoy oddly.

Draco lowered his hands, looking a bit disappointed. "I, er that is you, oh bugger off!"

And with that he spun on his heel and stalked away, his cronies right behind.

"Well," Hermione said after a moment. "That was ... odd."

"Quite." Harry glared after Malfoy before turning back to the others. Ron was scowling, Padma frowning, and Ginny ... Ginny looked like she just might burst into tears. "Ginny?" Harry retook his seat quickly, Padma perching on his knee and looking just as concerned. "You alright?"

"What?" She looked briefly at him, her eyes huge and her skin looking like it was stretched too tightly over her face. "Oh." She stared fixedly at the chipped grain of the table for a moment and shrugged. "Fine. Just ... fine."

Harry didn't quite believe her, and from the looks of it none of the others did either, but they all just shrugged and let her be as Neville spoke up for the first time.

"That was ... strange. That thing with his hands..."

"It's Malfoy." Ron shrugged and scowled. "He's beyond a git. He was probably trying to hex you or something."

"But he didn't have his wand." Hermione sat forward. "I've never seen that gesture before, either. Maybe I should--"

"Oh leave it." They all turned to stare at Ginny again. She was gripping her glass of Butterbeer hard enough to whiten her knuckles and she refused to meet any of their eyes. "Just leave it alone," she snapped as Hermione opened her mouth again.

Hermione looked startled, but just shrugged and turned back to Ron and Neville. Harry, however, continued watching Ginny. He had a sinking sort of feeling in his stomach, one he had come to recognize over the past four years. It was quite literally gut instinct, and right now it was telling him to be careful, that something was afoot, something not pleasant.

But then Padma shifted on his lap, and he suddenly had plenty of other things to think about, like the tempting curve of her neck, and the scent of her hair.

"People are staring," Padma muttered as Harry nuzzled into her neck.

"Let them." Harry nibbled her ear, feeling unaccountably bold. "I want them all to know about us. Then no one will be asking you to the ball."

"Most of them are girls." Padma reached up and clasped Harry's hand tightly. "And, oh my, they don't look pleased. I do believe I've stolen the school's most eligible bachelor."

"How awful of you."

"Ahem!" Ron's impatient voice broke apart the proceeding snog and the two separated a bit sheepishly.

"Er, sorry. You need something?" Harry asked, licking his tingling lips.

"We're heading back. You two care to join us or do you just want to sit here and snog?" Harry realized that everyone else was standing, and Ron looked slightly irritated.

"Oh, sure." Harry and Padma rose to join the rest as they left the pub, Harry noticing for the first time that indeed, Padma had been right. Several girls were giving the two of them the evil eye, or looking positively crushed. Girls are so weird, Harry thought.

On the way back up the path to the castle, Hermione engaged Padma in a discussion of the Hogwarts library, while Ron made snarky comments here and there. Harry dropped back a bit until he was walking next to the silent Neville.

"Have a good time, Neville?"

"Sure." The other boy scuffed his feet a little. "And thanks, you know, for letting me come with you."

"Of course. You can come along anytime." Harry grinned a little. "Three is a bad number, you know. We need a fourth sometimes."

"Oh, I think just two would be hard enough if it were Ron and Hermione."

Harry laughed, slapping Neville on the back a little. "Good point. So you and Padma can hang around to keep me sane when they start going."

Neville smiled a little, but he didn't laugh. "Yeah, I suppose." He slowed a little more, looking up at Harry. "That thing that Malfoy did, it was really strange wasn't it?"

Harry shrugged. He'd already half forgotten it. "I suppose. But like Ron said, it's Malfoy. He's a strange bugger."

"I guess." Neville didn't look very convinced, but Harry didn't find it too worrisome. Neville was something of a notorious worrywart, and the littlest things set him off.

"Hey," he said suddenly, "where's Ginny?"

"Oh." Neville's frown deepened a little. "She sort of ran off while you and Padma were ... you know. Said something about wanting to get back to the castle early. I said I'd walk with her but she said no."

"Huh. There's been something up with her all afternoon, though."

"No, not all afternoon." Neville's pensive expression hardened a little. "Just since Malfoy..."

"I'm sure it's okay," Harry said. That gut feeling was back, like he had swallowed a lead weight and he didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

"Let's go, then," he said hastily. "The others are way ahead."