Playing Gobstones With The Enemy

Playing Gobstones With The Enemy

My name is Emily Simpson, and I'm a Ravenclaw. I'm in fifth year, and I'm currently sitting (or rather, lying) in the Hogwarts hospital wing feeling thoroughly sorry for myself- I fell thirty feet from a broomstick while trying out for the Quidditch team. A 'don't call us, we'll call you' situation, I think. Oh well, not getting on the team is the least of my worries. I could have died. As it is, I had three broken ribs and a fractured anklebone. Madame Pomfrey can fix broken bones instantly, if it is simple break, like an ankle. But, of course, I am in no way simple. She can't just heal my ribs- she doesn't want to mend them so they stick into my lungs (and I should hope not too). She says its better to take it slowly, which means five or six days of minimal activity and regular doses of Skele-Gro. It'd be better if I had someone to talk to...

*

Someone out there is listening to my request and throwing it back in my face. Murphy, probably, him and his stupid law. When I said 'someone to talk to' I meant a friend, or a fellow Ravenclaw, or anyone except a Slytherin. Or even a Slytherin would have been all right, if it was an impressionable first-year. But Draco Malfoy? Head of all the most evil Slytherins in the school, hater of Muggleborns, Slytherin Prefect and feared by all he's decided he doesn't like. Apparently, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger (who should definitely be in Ravenclaw) and Ron Weasley all hexed him at the same time. Pretty seriously. And nor were they the only ones, in my opinion- it looked to me like he had been hit by the Jelly Legs, Slug Belching, Furnunculus and Insectius Hexes, and a tickling charm (Don't ask me why!).

The obnoxious creature is still unconscious, but when he wakes up I'm going to have to spend God knows how long with him. I'm dreading it- not that I'm scared of him. I don't care. I'm way too intelligent to mind his snide comments and puny jibes, even if he is a year above me. He is pathetic. Really.

He was stirring.

"Oh look! It's that Ravenclaw. I was watching, nice fall! You look a state," he sneered. I rolled my eyes.

"Um, you may want to consider looking in the mirror. But be prepared for a shock."

"oh, youre one of those smart-mouthed ones, aren't you? You can shut up right now! You think you're so smart, but you're just a stupid mudblood."

"I don't actually attach much offence to the word mudblood, seeing as I only found out what it meant a few months ago. Words are words, are they not?"

"Well they're hardly likely to be anything else, are they?"

"Exactly. And also, anyone with any intelligence realises that blood doesn't matter."

"Are you calling me stupid?" He was clearly in a bad mood (understandably), but nevertheless it was still amusing to watch him trying to be intimidating with mushrooms sprouting from his ears. I knew it was not a good idea to bait him while he was this angry. However...

"I said, are you calling me stupid?"

"Do you think blood matters?" I replied innocently.

"Yes!"

"Well then, there's your answer!" I don't always act on my knowledge. He glared.

"Mudblood!"

"Evil supporter of the Dark Lord!"

"So what?"

"Ditto. I'd probably be more offended if you called me what I called you."

"And vice versa. But why are you talking so quietly?"

"I have three broken ribs."

"Oh. That'd explain it."

"Talking of broken ribs, Miss Simpson, time for your Skele-Gro!" Madame Pomfrey appeared from nowhere, shaking a bottle and smiling ominously. Malfoy smirked at my horrified look. The evil woman styling herself as healer opened my mouth and forced down a spoonful of the revolting stuff she calls medicine. Malfoy smirked even more. She turned to him.

"Now, Mr Malfoy, none of the individual counter-curses have made any effect on your, erm... condition, so there is a possibility the effects may be...um- a little permanent."

It was my turn to smirk.

*

"Shut up."

"I never said anything."

"You were breathing. I can't sleep."

"Oh, sorry, O Lord of Everything, I'll stop breathing for you, shall I? Why don't you shut up?"

"You're the one that's keeping me awake."

"You're the one that's talking."

"You keep making funny raspy noises."

"Well, that might have something to do with the fact that every time I breathe in, I get stabbing pains in my chest from my broken ribs, you know?"

"That's not my problem, is it?"

"No, but telling me to stop breathing is like telling me to eat the Eiffel tower. I couldn't do it even if I wanted to. Which I don't. I don't really like the taste of metal."

"Oh, just shut up."

"You started it! Goodnight. Go to sleep."

"Hope you have nightmares."

"Same to you." there was a pause.

"You're doing that on purpose, now, aren't you?"

"What?"

"That breathing!"

"Goodnight. Sleep terribly. Hope the bed bugs bite."

*

"Morning you two! Professor Snape popped round while you were asleep, Mr Malfoy, and suggested some healing potions. How's your chest, Miss Simpson? Good, good! Perhaps you'll be out of here sooner than expected! More Skele-Gro for you! Professor Snape will be round with the potions for you, my dear."

Madame Pomfrey brought breakfast, and then at lunchtime there came Crabbe, Doyle (Goyle? Moyles?) Pansy Parkinson (who is as stupid as- well, as she looks, basically), the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and several other demonic minions of the Dark Lord well fed on virgin blood (or rather, Slytherin seventh years). They grouped around Malfoy's bed, plotting revenge on Potter in low and sinister voices, with many evil cackles (or idiotic guffaws in Crabby and Boyle's case). At tea time a few of my friends came round to give me the day's homework.

"Thanks, you lot, that's really great."

"Well we've got OWLs! This year is important! We wouldn't forget you!"

"Urgh! How Ravenclaw!" said Malfoy with disgust.

"Well, you don't have OWLs to worry about any more, do you? But this year is vital for us!"

"OWLs were easy peasy."

I ignored him.

"What did you do in charms today?"

"Oh, more animating inanimate objects, nothing too hard. But he asked us some revision questions, so we wrote them down for you as extra."

"Wow, that's really brilliant! Thanks for thinking of me!"

Malfoy made a retching noise.

"Oh, god, honestly! Ravenclaws are pathetic."

"And you're just a slimy Slytherin." said Emma coldly

"He'll only take that as a compliment." said Jenny darkly

"He's not worth our attention, he's an inferior creature," said Stella pityingly

"Bad luck for being stuck with him! Bye bye!" they walked out, giving Malfoy the perfected Ravenclaw Condescending Stare.

"They are so on my revenge list," said Malfoy, glaring. I grinned.

*

Day 3: There is nothing on the horizon but endless hospital beds. It is past endurance. My friends are too busy working to come and visit, and god knows what Malfoys' friends are doing (eating babies for lunch, probably- or Potter, which is more likely). Consequently, me and Malfoy, I mean, Malfoy and I (I may as well join the Hufflepuffs if I don't have perfect grammar) are stuck talking to each other. Oh, Lord, save me! Murphy, have mercy!

"Mudblood."

"Evil Death Eater."

"Mudblood."

"Evil Death Eater."

"Mudblood."

"D'you think this conversation is going round in circles?"

"Less of a circle, more of a tennis match."

"Isn't tennis a muggle game?

"I like tennis. Tennis rocks. Don't you dare criticise tennis."

"I'm not. Its just I thought you hated muggles and all associated with them?"

"I do. But tennis rocks."

"You are weird."

"Thanks. You too."

I took refuge in my homework.

*

Day 4: Damn you, Lord, Damn you, Murphy! I will be in here for exactly the same time as Malfoy. Oh well, I have perfected the art of driving him crazy- accio-ing his homework as he does it and correcting his mistakes. Even the tiniest silly little thing. It drives him up the wall. There is a slight downfall to this method of torture, unfortunately- he gets good marks. Damn it.

Goodnight. I am going to sleep. Even though it's four in the afternoon. What else is there to do?

"Good morning, Malfoy! Sleep well?"

"No. You were breathing again."

"Good, good, glad to hear it. I'd be in trouble if I wasn't."

"Ravenclaws are such smart alecs."

"Yep. Oh, is that another piece of homework?"

He held it out to me, smiling innocently. I took it with suspicion.

"You've spelt 'necessary' wrong." I pointed out. He just smiled wider.

"Its Whispering Weed, not Whistling Reed." He didn't even blink.

"And you've put too many 'S's in Stinksap." He leaned forward.

"Oh yes, so I have," he said mildly. I gave it back in despair.

"Damn you, you can resist my torture!"

"We Malfoys don't give in for anything. Unless there's some cash in it."

"How very Slytherin."

"How very sensible. We Slytherins know when to take a good deal. Unlike Gryffindors. No wonder so many of them die fighting the Dark Arts."

"Oh, yeah, because getting a Dark Mark branded into your arm then swearing your undying devotion to someone who'll probably torture you for your every mistake, and probably once or twice for fun, is a great deal. Oh, yeah, sign me up now," I said, with trademark Ravenclaw sarcasm. Malfoy looked extremely surprised and very confused. He looked at me sideways.

"I never really thought of it like that. I was thinking more of the torturing-Potter aspect. And the striking-fear-into-enemies-hearts aspect." He yawned. "Oh, god, this is boring. You got any sweets? Accio chocolate frog!"

"Hey! Give that back! Accio schoolbooks!"

"Accio pillow!"

"Accio blanket!

"Oi!"

"Ha! You've got teddies on your pyjamas! Oh, you wait 'til we get out of here! Ha!" I was gleeful. He looked furious.

"Accio teddy! Right, swear your eternal silence or the bear gets it!" He pointed his wand directly between its eyes.

"Give him back, you- you teddy murderer!" I laughed at him- I'm not that attached to my teddy bear.

"Swear your silence," he said warningly.

"Alright, all right, I swear. Can I have my stuff back?" He levitated my pillow and teddy back onto my bed, and I did the same. We sat glaring at each other for a few minutes. Then Malfoy raised his arm and leisurely unwrapped my chocolate frog.

Git.

*

Day 6: All is calm at sea today. Which is a pity, because I'm still in the hospital wing.

"God, this is boring," I said lethargically.

"I agree." Malfoy was staring at the ceiling.

"God, this is boring," I repeated.

"I agree."

"God, this is boring."

"I agree." I sighed.

"We're talking in tennis again."

"In that case, game, set and match to me."

"Why you?"

"You dropped it. You just broke the rally."

"Didn't."

"Did."

"Didn't."

"Did."

"Didn't."

"Did."

"Oh, who cares?"

"Ha! You did it again! I win!"

"Damn it!" I hate Draco Malfoy.

*

"You're not breathing."

"Yes I am, stupid. I'd be dead if I wasn't."

"No, I mean you've stopped rasping."

"Then why are you still awake?"

"I can't sleep."

"Fine, but do you have to keep me awake? I s'pose that's a stupid question."

"I still can't sleep, and I'm on 1,567."

"Pardon?"

"1,567 sheep."

"Oh. Right. You've been counting 1,567 sheep?"

"Yeah, I bewitched the ceiling, see?" I looked up. On the ceiling was a picture of a fence. As I watched, a luminous sheep appeared from nowhere and jumped over it, Baaing in an exhausted way. It staggered, fell over and fell asleep. A line of Zzzs trailed up from it.

"I think it's knackered."

"Lucky it."

"If you like, I'll put a sleeping charm on you. Or a laziness charm, I don't actually know a sleeping charm."

"Oh, and a lazy charm will really help!"

"Hey, I'm trying!"

"Why?"

"Why are you trying to help me? I am Draco Malfoy, evil scum of the earth."

He said this with distinct pride. I sighed.

"Good point. Nighty-night! Sleep well."

"I won't."

*

"You two are nearly cured! I'll let you go this afternoon, alright? Last spoon of Skele-Gro for you! And here's the last potion, Mr Malfoy, that should get rid of those rather unsightly tentacles, shouldn't it?"

"Can I get out of bed now, then?" I needed to move. I was going to go insane. It may already be too late.

"Certainly! Just don't overdo it, okay, dear?" The second the evil torturess left, I ran up and down the aisle in joy. Malfoy stared incredulously. I sat down, gasping.

"All...I've wanted...to do...for six days...is...run about...a bit!" I explained, clutching my side. "I...so...shouldn't have ...done that...ouch!"

"Yeah, I'd lie down a bit after that." Malfoy sounded almost concerned. "You look really white now."

"That's not concern, is it?"

"No! I was just commenting on how you look even more awful than usual!"

"Oh, I thought so." I rolled my eyes.

"Now you can get out of bed, d'you want to play exploding snap?"

"Nah, I'm getting dressed." I pulled the curtain across and pulled on my black robes.

"Are you sure you don't want to play snap? We've got all day. How about Gobstones?"

I never thought it would happen. I'm playing Gobstones with the enemy.

Freed! At last! Thank you Lord! How could I ever doubt you? (It sort of doesn't help that I'm an atheist.) Draco Malfoy looked just as ecstatic as I was. I wondered if he would continue to be moderately nice to me now we're out. But I'm a Ravenclaw, and as such have the brain capacity to realise- Fat chance.

*

I passed Malfoy in the corridor today. As predicted, he blanked me, but I happened to look back. He looked back too. I grinned. He grinned back.

I always did like the Irish. Maybe Murphy's not so bad.