Harry Potter and the Second Prophecy

Chapter 13 - Never Cross a Pritchard

Dinner that night would go down in Hogwarts' history as one of the most alarming meals ever taken in the Great Hall. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione had decided to go down to eat together. After a full day of being out in the cold, they were ravished by the time dinner began.

Ginny sat down next to Harry, who felt the color rise from underneath his shirt and up his neck to his face, but then, when he turned to face her, he noticed that she also looked angry and aloof, and suddenly the evening seemed destined to go further downhill than it had already traveled.

Halfway through their meal, Malfoy entered the Great Hall with Camilia on his arm. She had sat at the Slytherin table before, and did so this evening as well. Harry noticed that Camilia looked angry and aloof, and seemed to be making a careful effort not to look at the Gryffindor table.

Ginny watched Camilia enter as well, and apparently had finally decided that this was the right time to discuss her original argument with Camilia. She turned to face him Harry, and he could not place the look in her eyes. Then her lower lip started to quiver, and he knew he was in for it.

"I talked to her again before dinner. She was absolutely furious, Harry," said Ginny in a low, shaky voice. "She thinks I somehow personally insulted her by overhearing what Malfoy had to say!"

"You know how she is," said Harry, "always trying to show everyone that she's got everything under control. But she can't control Malfoy, Ginny, and I think that what we heard has probably proved that to her."

Ginny looked affronted. "It hasn't at all! She has the book, doesn't she? And rather than accept that she can't control him, she tells me I shouldn't have listened? I was trying to look out for her! Not spy on Malfoy!" Ginny paused, and then added, "Well, at least, look out for her even if it meant spying on Malfoy."

Ron looked up from his roasted chicken leg. "She's still your friend, Gin," he said, wiping his mouth with his forearm.

"I could certainly tell, too," she replied sullenly.

Hermione saw fit to interrupt. "Look...first of all, it's Valentine's Day, so let's not let this ruin it. Second, if I found out from you or Harry that Ron had been talking to his father about turning me over to Vol..." She looked at Harry, and steeled herself to finish. "Sorry, Voldemort. If Ron had been talking to your dad, telling him he was about to turn me over, I'd have a hard time with it, too... I'd be devastated at the very thought and want to believe it was a mistake...I might even go so far as to blame you or Harry for listening, like if you hadn't heard it, it might never have happened...but I'd know, deep down, that my friends wouldn't lie to me, Ginny. And maybe another part of the problem - another source of her anger, I mean - is that she thought she had him under control and now realizes she doesn't. Or maybe she's embarrassed that someone else realizes she can't entirely control the situation. Either way, I wouldn't take it personally, really. She'll snap out of it."

"Or she won't," added Harry. Hermione glared at him.

"Yes, she will!" she corrected.

"Possibly, but I think she might just go on being steamed until she can find a way to prove us wrong...to prove that Malfoy would never do anything of the sort - you know, give her to Voldemort - and that she had it all under control after all. She's a bit of a control freak, if you hadn't noticed," concluded Harry.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all nodded slowly. Everyone had noticed. Camilia seemed to take every opportunity to prove her abilities and assert her independence. They all considered the fact for a moment, and it was Ginny who broke the silence.

"Well, now that she's gotten him to give her that book, I don't think we'll ever convince her that she can't control the situation. Guess I'll just give her her space, then. But you're wrong, Hermione...she's made it personal. You should have heard her upstairs earlier. I'll just be sure not to step on any more toes until those have mended," she added sarcastically. She shook her head, preparing herself to launch back into her tirade. "I just don't understand - "

"I SAID DROP YOUR WAND!" Camilia's voice rebounded off the walls, cutting off not only Ginny's words, but all conversation in the Great Hall.

"You're a GRYFFINDOR, Camilia! What the bloody hell do you want to sit with this BASTARD for?" demanded Dean at the top of his lungs.

"I SIT where I WANT to sit, WHEN I want to sit there! I sure as hell wouldn't sit within TEN FEET of YOU if I had another option!" shouted Camilia in return.

"You SIT with the SLYTHERINS, you ruddy TRAITOR!" he replied, every bit as put out as Camilia.

"I am NOT a TRAITOR, you idiotic OAF of a BOY! And NOW I choose to sit with the Slytherins because I don't want to be anywhere near YOU, so BACK OFF!" she yelled, nearing hysterics.

"That's not it, Camilia...YOU sit with the Slytherins because you're a PRITCHARD whose GETTING SOME from your RACIST FUCKING BOYFRIEND!" shouted Dean.

"How DARE YOU?" she screamed, standing up from the bench.

As soon as Camilia stood, Professors Snape and McGonagall and dear, bewildered Hagrid rose from their seats at the head table, each making their way quickly to the Slytherin table.

"How dare I? How dare YOU? A Pritchard, calling yourself a Gryffindor and shagging a RACIST?" he demanded.

"YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME, THOMAS! NOTHING!" Camilia's hatred had visibly risen to a fever pitch. "SO NOW I'M JUST A PRITCHARD, AM I? YOU WANT TO SEE A PRITCHARD?" she shrieked.

"NO!" screamed McGonagall, halfway to Camilia, but Camilia payed her no mind. Instead she thrust her hands forward, her arms in front of her, and raised them above her head, engulfing Dean Thomas in a tangle of blue electric thunderbolts and lifting him into the air above the neighboring Ravenclaw table. He began to scream, wondering what she might do to him, but others in the Great Hall believed he was screaming from pain and began to scream themselves. She then flipped her palms, outstretched, toward the ceiling and released Dean, who began plummeted toward the floor almost thirty feet below. By this time Hagrid had run the length of the room as was positioning himself to catch Dean who landed squarely in Hagrid's outstretched arms.

Snape watched as McGonagall reached Camilia and took her, by the ear, from the room without so much as a single a word; it appeared to the entire room that perhaps Camilia would next be seen without that ear, as McGonagall had such a firm grasp on it. Snape then commanded Hagrid to take Dean to the hospital wing to be checked for any injuries, fearing it likely that Dean had broken at least a few bones upon impact with Hagrid's solid frame. Once Hagrid had left the Great Hall, Snape turned a full circle between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, surveying the students, all soundless once more. "You shall finish your meals and return to your dormitories. I expect to hear nothing more about this incident." There was no response, and everyone's eyes were still on Snape. "EAT!" he commanded, and once again the clinking of silverware on dishes and the tinkle of glasses could be heard in the Great Hall. Conversations began again, first at a whisper, and then as a steady buzz. "You," said Snape, turning back to the Slytherin table and looking directly at Malfoy. "I want you in my office as soon as you're done." With that, he turned and exited the Great Hall.

The moment he'd left, conversation in the Great Hall really began to pick up. Ron leaned forward across the table to his cohorts. "Oh - My - God," he said, then threw a quick glance over his shoulder at the door to make sure that Snape hadn't suddenly and mysteriously reappeared. "Guess she'd have made a better Slytherin after all, eh?"

Harry wasn't so sure. "I don't know about that, Ron. Seems to me she just stood up for her family name..."

"Sorry, Harry," Ron replied. "You heard Dean; he called Malfoy a racist. Whatever Malfoy said to him to set him off must've been really bad because even Dean's made cracks about being one of the few black students at Hogwarts."

Ginny was peeved that, once again, Harry had tried to stand up for Camilia. "Happy Valentine's Day, eh? Here, Dean, let's have Malfoy insult you for your heritage, and then Camilia nearly kill you for standing up for yourself."

"She wasn't defending Malfoy's behavior, Gin, just Dean's attack on her character," Harry said, again by way of defense.

"Maybe that's true, and maybe it isn't," Ginny chimed in, "but I'll tell you what I've learned from the past few hours: Never, ever, cross a Pritchard."

* * * * * * * *

As dinner came to an end, Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and noticed Malfoy dragging his feet; he certainly didn't seem to want to finish his meal, and Harry wondered if he was intentionally delaying his arrival in Snape's office. Hoping that Malfoy would remain just a bit longer, Harry excused himself from the table, to Ginny's dismay, and raced to the Gryffindor Common Room, yelling "Accio Cloak!". He immediately donned his invisibility cloak and ran as quickly as he could back down to the Great Hall, where, thankfully, Malfoy was just getting up from his meal.

Harry stood back as Malfoy passed, looking sullen and alone, and secretly hoped that Malfoy would go slowly so Harry could relish his misery. He let him pass, waiting at the top of the stairs to the dungeons until Malfoy had reached the bottom, and just as he was about to descend after him, he noticed Camilia coming down the stairs, staring in the direction Malfoy had just gone. She had a perplexed look on her face, and at first Harry could not tell whether it was due to McGonagall's lecture or that she had seen Malfoy and was wondering where he was going, but when she started quickly toward him, Harry knew she'd seen Malfoy and was planning to follow him herself. She had almost reached the stairs to the dungeon when Harry threw his cloak over her and continued with her. She started, and before she could make a noise, Harry clamped his hand over her mouth.

"This is an invisibility cloak," he whispered. "It was my dad's. I was going to follow him, too, so let's just do it together."

Her eyes bore into him. "I'd rather do it alone," she stated.

"But you'll need my cloak," he countered, "and to get that, you'll have to let me come with you."

Camilia knew better than to lose time considering alternatives. "Fine," she said. "Let's go. But hurry!"

They took the stairs rapidly...so rapidly that Harry thought at one point he might stumble trying to keep up with Camilia. When they reached the Potions room, the door was not only unlocked but open, and the lights were lit. Harry felt relief, having wondered how he'd manage to get them inside without drawing attention to them because of a door opening on its own.

They stepped into the room and carefully between the desks to the office area, but the door there was also open, so it wasn't necessary for them to be too near to overhear the conversation being held. For the second time in as many weeks, Harry found himself spying on Malfoy, in the Potions Dungeon, with a girl at his side.

"...appeared in my fireplace an hour ago, told me to tell you he had granted your request, and this is how you repay him?" Snape was demanding of Malfoy.

"Sir, I didn't do anything - " Malfoy began in protest.

"Do you think I'm a fool? That boy certainly wouldn't have leapt to a challenge like that, but for you! Your task is simple, and if you fail..." said Snape, letting his words hang in the air.

"I won't fail," replied Malfoy.

"I should hope not. Your father has made and is making a great many sacrifices for you, Draco. That book alone is a sacrifice beyond your comprehension. Your repayment must consist of more than stirring up Gryffindors!" Snape said with finality.

"Yes, sir," Malfoy said, hanging his head.

"Let me repeat: one more instance like that, and she will be expelled," Snape reminded him. "None of us can afford to let that happen."

Harry looked at Camilia under the cloak, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide. Camilia nodded. Harry had not, until then, known what she had discussed in McGonagall's office, but it seemed that, though he had himself wreaked havoc on the school a number of times, it was Camilia who was in danger of losing her place at Hogwarts.

Snape was continuing. "I suppose I'll be seeing you tomorrow night at your detention."

"Detention?!" spluttered Malfoy. "But I didn't - "

"What you did," interrupted Snape, "was endanger your mission, yourself, your father, and every Death Eater involved in enabling you to complete your mission! For heaven's sake, Draco, be a man! You will have detention with me every night for the next two weeks until and unless you are finally able to admit your mistake. You will be here tomorrow night at eight o'clock sharp, do you understand me?" he demanded.

Malfoy replied through a clenched jaw. "Yes, sir," he agreed.

"Now get back to your common room, and..."

Harry nudged Camilia and pointed underneath the cloak toward the door. "Move," he whispered as quietly as he could.

They made their way quickly but carefully back between the desks and out the door, but as Harry began to head toward the stairs, Camilia grabbed on to his arm and held him against the wall opposite the door. A moment later, Malfoy stormed out and down the hall toward the Slytherin Common Room. Shortly thereafter, Snape stepped through the door, having already magically darkened the room, and closed and latched it. He strode back toward the stairs, and as soon as he has halfway up, Camilia turned, still holding Harry's arm, and raced after Malfoy.

"Camilia! We can't! We don't have the password!" he protested.

"You don't have the password," she corrected. Harry was stunned. He hadn't known she'd spent any time in the Slytherin Common Room.

They reached the Slytherin Common Room entrance, which Harry recognized immediately from having been there his second year, and Camilia mumbled "Nightshade." Suddenly they were in the room, and it was not difficult to locate Malfoy, who had apparently thrown himself onto a green velvet couch near the fireplace when he'd entered. When Harry realized what Malfoy was up to, he turned to see Camilia's reaction. Her jaw was clenched tight and her gaze was riveted to Pansy Parkinson's fingers in Draco Malfoy's hair as he lay with his head in her lap.

"...wasn't there," she was saying to him. "I thought it was brilliant."

"The stupid wanker had it coming. You saw how supercilious he was about his potion turning out so well the other day...I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. And then he had the audacity to point out that mine wasn't magenta. Bastard."

"I loved the look on his face! I don't know of anyone else who'd be willing to call him that to his face, Draco," she smiled down at him.

"He may consider himself a pureblood, but he'll always be just a nigger to me," Malfoy assured her. Harry, realizing what had transpired between Dean and Malfoy that had caused Dean to react as he did, felt his body go rigid.

"Was it worth detention?" Pansy was asking.

"The question is, was it worth seeing how far her powers have developed," he corrected. "And the answer is, by far."

"I don't want to talk about her," snapped Pansy.

"No, you wouldn't, would you?" shrugged Malfoy. They stared at one another for a moment, and Harry noticed that Camilia's fingers had curled into fists. He feared she might do something to one or both of them, and wondered how much more they would provoke her.

He received his answer a moment later. Pansy moved so she was sitting rather sideways, and put her hand to Malfoy's face. "Happy Valentine's Day, Draco," she whispered, leaned over, still staring at him, and then parted her lips in preparation for a kiss.

Malfoy had his hand up in front of his mouth in an instant. "Pansy, we've talked about this."

"I know," she whined, "but she doesn't have to know, and I don't mind! You can still be with her if you want...just use me if you want! Truly, it doesn't bother me!"

"For God's sake, don't be such a whore, Pansy," he scolded her. "It's over between us. I'm with Camilia. If you want to be my friend, fine, but..." Malfoy seemed to realize exactly what was happening then. "Get your hands off me!" He shoved her away from him. "I swear, if you cast another spell or slip me another love potion one more time, I'll - "

Malfoy didn't need to finish his thought, because right then, Pansy shrieked. While Malfoy had been talking, Camilia had been slowly and deliberately directing Harry toward the couch, and the moment he mentioned love spells and potions, Camilia took a generous handful of Pansy's hair and yanked it as hard as she could. Pansy whirled around, looking for the culprit, and though Harry was inclined to move hastily away from the couch, Camilia stood rooted to the spot, unflinching, even daring Pansy to discover her there. When Pansy concluded that no one was near enough to her to have pulled her hair, she turned sulkily to the fire, and Camilia, head held high, took Harry's arm once more and sauntered out of the room. Neither of them turned back toward the couch. If they had, they'd have noticed Malfoy turn both his head and his eyes slightly in their direction, a small smile playing at his lips.

"That was amazing," said Harry once they had made it to the stairs leading to Gryffindor tower. "But tell me something. You had so much control in there, and yet...you came so close to taking off Dean's head at dinner. Why?"

"Has anyone ever insulted your parents, Harry? Someone who had no knowledge of them whatsoever, someone who assumed that you, as their child, would be just like all the rumors they'd heard? Just by associating you with them?" Harry thought of his Aunt Marge, who he'd blown up like a balloon his third year for the very same thing. "Something in you just snaps. You don't even have to know your parents...just be related to them...and still, it's like a light switch in your brain." Harry reflected briefly that only a Muggle, or one very familiar with Muggle terms, would understand the analogy of "a light switch." "Just because I'm a Pritchard doesn't mean I'm Charles Pritchard, and it damn well doesn't mean my parents were like him. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense," said Harry, nodding. "If it hadn't been for Sirius my third year, I'd have been expelled too, for doing the same thing." Harry stopped walking, realizing he hadn't spoken of Sirius much this year...not since...

"I do need to apologize to Dean...what Draco said really was awful. Oh, and I need to apologize to him for, you know, flinging him up into the air, of course," she chuckled callously. "That too." She noticed as she spoke that Harry had not continued to walk with her. "You okay, Harry?" she asked.

He looked like someone had shaken him back to reality. "Fine," he stammered. "I'm fine." He walked blindly up the steps to the landing Camilia had reached, and turned to face her, looking as though he was just noticing her.

"Harry?" she asked again, just as Harry's face crumbled. She put her arms around him and let him cry into her bosom, holding him, and helping him to an alcove where they sat on a stone bench and he shared with her all that had happened in the Department of Mysteries.

It was the longest, most miserable Valentine's Day Harry could ever remember having.