Persistence of Memory

Persistence of Memory

Chapter 3

Ginny Weasley hummed a merry tune on her way to the Room of Requirement. Harry had not attempted to re-start Dumbledore's Army yet, so Ginny thought the room was the perfect place to be alone with Dean for a while. Ron wouldn't stop badgering the poor lad. Sometimes Ginny absolutely despised having older brothers.

Ginny walked up and down the hall a few times, thinking hard on what she needed the room to be. A wooden door materialized in front of her. An intricate carving of flowers and vines decorated the edges of it. Ginny smiled in satisfaction.

She entered the large candlelit room and sniffed the rose-scented air. Ginny hung her school robes on the back of a large armchair and knelt down to untie her shoes. She settled herself on the fluffy faux-fur comforter. Dean had explained the allure of the Muggle fur craze to her over the summer. He'd smuggled in his mother's fur coat for Ginny to sample, but Mrs. Thomas had sent a howler demanding it back last week.

Ginny ran her fingers over the fur sensually. She pondered stripping down to her unmentionables, but a niggling thought that someone other than Dean would come storming in stopped her.

By the time Dean arrived, nearly a half hour later, Ginny had fallen asleep in the giant bed. Dean kicked off his loafers and tossed his robes in a corner. He crept up along side the bed and leaned over to whisper sweet things in his beloved's ear. Instead, he sneezed. Ginny came awake with a start. Her head jolted up and smacked Dean in the nose.

"Ow!"

"Oh, Dean!"

"Engh! Don't touch it!"

"Ew, you're getting blood everywhere!"

----

"Alrigh', alrigh', gather 'round," Hagrid boomed.

The students formed a semi-circle around the half-giant and the large box in front of him. Throaty growls assaulted their ears.

"'Old up, Malfoy, don't get too close now. Ya got to let 'em smell ya 'fore you go and try to pick 'em up."

"They're only kittens," Malfoy sassed. "They can't hurt me."

"They're not kittens, Malfoy," Hermione said loftily.

Malfoy sneered down at her. "No one asked your opinion, Mudblood."

"Oi! Yer not to say that, Malfoy. I won't warn ya again."

During the argument, Parvati, Lavender, and Dean had moved closer to the box, peering down at the fluffy winged kittens.

"Aw," cooed Lavender.

"They're so cute," squealed Parvati.

"Are those fangs?" asked Dean, pointing his finger a little too close to one of them.

Before Hagrid could stop them, the kittens flew out of the box in a flock. They opened their little mouths and hissed. As one, they descended upon Dean in a frenzied fashion, sinking their teeth and claws into his flesh.

"Aaahh! Vampire kittens!" screamed Seamus, falling out of bed. He pounded his pillow with his fist. "Leave Dean alone, you blood-sucking fiends!"

"SEAMUS!"

Seamus blinked and looked around the room. Madam Pomfrey stood in front of him. A luminescent dark grey substance had been splashed all over the front of her normally pristine white robes. She folded her arms and glared down at him.

"I'll not have you disturbing my efforts, Mr. Finnigan," Pomfrey scolded, narrowing her eyes. She wiped ineffectually at the grey splotch. "Oh, it will take me days to make more of this."

"What efforts?" Seamus demanded, gesturing to his horns. "You're not doin' a good job, are ye?"

----

"What are you two doing?" Hermione inquired.

Harry and Ron were reading a textbook aloud by the fireplace. A small pot of dirt sat in between them. Blue tendrils emerged from the pot, twisting around like tiny snakes. Ron glanced up at Hermione whilst Harry continued to read.

"The project for Sprout," Harry stated. "She's checking progress tomorrow."

"Yeah," added Ron. "We've managed to grow it a few centimeters already. Of course, Neville and Dean have done better, but I think we're doing alright, don't you, Harry?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "You should see Parvati and Lavender's! It's just a pot of dry dirt."

Hermione had plunked her pot by her bedside table and never thought about it again. Oh, no. She had an unfinished assignment. All of a sudden, she couldn't breathe properly. Harry dropped his book and caught her before she fell to the floor.

"Hermione!"

He laid her out on the floor and slapped her gently. Hermione's brown eyes fluttered open. She stared at Harry for a few seconds before scrambling up from the carpet and grabbing the Boy-Who-Lived by the front of his robes.

"Oh, Harry! I need help!" she begged desperately.

"We're aware of that," Ron scoffed. "Mental, you are."

"With the assignment, Ron! What am I going to do?"

"Relax, Hermione," Harry soothed. "Just tell her you forgot. She's only checking to see how well it's coming along. It's not due tomorrow."

"But it's not coming along at all!" Hermione wailed. "Professor Sprout will think I'm a complete flid! First I answer a question wrong, which Neville corrects and then I haven't even started the assignment!"

Ron winced at the level of Hermione's voice. It became shriller with every sentence each time she threw a tantrum.

"Just tell her your partner lost it and you had nothing to do with it," Ron suggested. "Malfoy's been using that excuse for years and it's always worked for him."

"I'm not going to lie, Ronald Weasley!"

Hermione flounced off to the Great Hall. Ron and Harry reluctantly followed.

----

After dinner, Hermione rifled through Ron's trunk. I know it's got to be here somewhere. Not finding what she wanted, she moved aside packs of Exploding Snap cards and tattered maroon jumpers. Hermione spied the shirt she was looking for sticking out from under Ron's bed.

Hermione snatched the shirt and held it up in front of her. It was much too big, of course, but Hermione herself had no decent clothes to use for Quidditch. At least with Ron's shirt she'd look like she belonged with the sports fanatics. Now trousers.

Unfortunately, Ron's trousers were not an option at all. Hermione would be swimming in them. She slammed his trunk closed and moved across the room to Seamus's. As she approached the trunk, she felt eyes boring into her back. Hermione whirled around, her hand grasping the wand in her pocket.

"Oh!" Hermione jumped. "Neville, I didn't know you were up here."

Neville's face was rather sunken and he had dark circles under his eyes. He watched Hermione warily. She was blocking Neville's view of the evil trunk.

"Could you move?" he asked in a timid voice.

"I'll just be a second, Neville." Hermione said, not really listening to him at all. No one ever did.

Neville glared as Hermione opened Seamus's trunk. He closed his bed curtains and opened a new box of Licorice Lobsters.

----

Seamus stepped into the empty Gryffindor Common Room. There were no signs of anyone at all. No papers littered over the tables, no dirty socks draped over the back of the sofas, no candy wrappers or half-eaten Sugar Quills lying around.

Feet pounded heavily on the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Hermione rushed down them, tucking a too-large Chudley Cannons' shirt into a pair of bright green trousers with pink splotches all over them. Her hair was pulled up into the frizziest ponytail Seamus had ever seen.

"Hey," Seamus greeted, eyeing Hermione's clashing clothes with distaste.

"Seamus! You're back... and you still have horns."

"Yeah," Seamus scratched said horns. "Madam Pomfrey said she'd 'ad enough o' me."

"What's that for?" Hermione asked, examining the bottle of purple gel in his hand.

"Paranoid delusions an' all that rot." Seamus sat the bottle down on the nearest table with a distrustful look. "She reckons I've gone 'round the bend... said I'd cracked and should be carted off to St. Mungo's, but that would mean too much paperwork."

Hermione had nothing to say to that. Seamus fiddled with a loose string on his robes.

"So, um, where's Dean?"

"Quidditch pitch. He's gone to watch Ginny try for Chaser."

Seamus wanted to rant and demand to know what Dean was doing with that ginger weasel when he could have been visiting his friend in his hour of need. He settled for scowling.

"Bit late for try-outs, isn't it?"

"Well, yes. You see, Katie's Captain now and she thinks everyone else is a rotten player. She insulted poor Colin Creevey, even. She yelled at Harry and Ron for being ill and at me for a simple suggestion," Hermione sputtered in one breath. "A suggestion, I might add, that she followed without so much as a 'good idea, Hermione'. Then she had the nerve to say I wouldn't be welcomed back unless-"

"Right, yeah." Seamus nodded, cutting off Hermione's tirade. "I-is Neville about?"

"Upstairs." Hermione shook her head slightly. "Poor Neville. He's so upset about Trevor still. He didn't even notice me until I took your trousers. Ron says Neville's been glaring at your trunk for hours on end. Maybe you should go talk to him."

Seamus turned pale at the thought of being alone with Neville.

"N-no, I, I think I'll jus' g-go with you."

"Well, come on, then! We're late!"

Hermione grabbed Seamus's sleeve and dragged him out of the Common Room. Seamus studied Hermione's green and pink trousers with a perplexed expression. Did she say those were mine?

----

Katie Bell was not happy. Sure, she now had Ginny Weasley, but that only served to show what useless players the others were. She sighed, watching Jack thwack Andrew in the face for the third time in ten minutes. What she really needed was another Beater. Katie glanced off towards the sidelines and spotted a familiar bushy head.

"Granger! I thought I told you not to..." Katie trailed off as she flew closer to Hermione.

"I intend to try out," Hermione smiled politely, straightening the giant Chudley Cannons' shirt and trying to appear superior. She had a ramshackle school broom clutched in her right hand.

Katie snorted, and then burst into shuddering laughter. Hermione seethed and shot into the air on her broom, taking a spot next to Ginny. Katie flew after her, snickering. At least she'll be good for a laugh.

----

Seamus wandered over to the stands, trying to block out the sound of Katie Bell's screeching. Quidditch was not his idea of fun, but with Ginny out there flying, he could be alone with Dean.

Dean waved at him from the highest bench. Seamus grinned and rushed up to sit with his friend. He opened his mouth to tell Dean about all the horrible things he'd imagined in the Hospital Wing. Before he could say anything, Dean leapt up from his seat and waved his hat around vigorously.

"WAY TO GO, GINNY!"

Dean plopped back down, a large smile on his face. He poked Seamus and pointed to Ginny, who was flying circles around her brother. Ron was sulking. Seamus figured Ginny had gotten the Quaffle by him.

"Did you see that, Seamus? She's brilliant!"

"Yeah, she's great..." Seamus muttered. "Anyway, Dean, I was goin' to tell you 'bout Neville."

"What about Neville?" Dean asked distractedly. His eyes never left Ginny Weasley.

"I think 'e tried to-" Seamus cut himself off. Dean wouldn't care if Neville had killed him. "Y'know, jus'... nevermind."

Dean shouted again as Ginny sank another Quaffle through the goal hoop. Seamus sighed and watched the Quidditch players with no real interest. Hermione had apparently been designated a Beater, trading positions with some stringy boy with long black hair. Seamus couldn't remember his name; Stoker or some such.

Hermione whacked a Bludger straight for Ginny. Dean gasped and widened his eyes. Ginny! He was very relieved when Ginny deftly spun out of the way and the ball hit Katie in the face. Blood trickled from her nose.

"Excellent move!" Dean yelled, pumping his fist in triumph as if he'd been the one playing.

Seamus was surprised at the feeling of disappointment that stirred in him when Ginny had gotten away safely. He had an overwhelming urge to see the weasel's freckled face smashed and bloody.

"Seamus?"

"Hmm?" Seamus looked up at Dean, who was still focused on the game.

"You were growling."

"Sorry," Seamus said insincerely. "Was I annoyin' you, eh? Missed Ginny's latest display of brilliant flyin', did ye?"

Seamus stomped off down the rows of bleachers without waiting for an answer. He stopped a few rows away and turned back to Dean.

"SHE'S NOT EVEN PLAYIN' RIGHT, DEAN. SITTIN' ON THE BROOM ALL WRONG, SHE IS!"

Dean waved a dismissive hand in Seamus's direction and gazed back up at Ginny and her wonderousness.

"Is that how it is, then?" Seamus muttered darkly.

----

Neville sat on his trunk and leafed through an old leather tome. It was one of his grandmother's collection of Dark Arts books. Neville had told her he needed to do an extra assignment. Mrs. Longbottom was quite chuffed that Neville was actually trying to get ahead in class that she promptly sent the book without further contemplation.

Neville smiled gleefully as he came across a nifty little nightmare-inducing potion. Skimming over the ingredients list, he knew he could find them easily. Well, maybe not the Unicorn blood. Perhaps Professor Snape had some stashed away down in his storeroom. Neville knew he wouldn't dare keep it in the classroom cupboard.

He slid the dusty book under his mattress. His first stop was the greenhouse to see if Professor Sprout had any extra Rejela seeds. The potion called for just a seed, not a plant that had taken root. Neville would have stolen Hermione's, but he couldn't risk being seen by Parvati or Lavender. Those girls were horrible gossips.

Neville strode across the room and inspected himself in the mirror. His hair could do with brushing. It stuck up in odd angles. He raked a comb through it, leaving a few flyaway pieces. He would look suspicious with perfectly combed hair. Neville grabbed his scarf and headed for Greenhouse Two.