Accio Destiny

Accio Destiny

It was cold. Really cold. In fact, the whole Hogwarts castle looked like something some Muggle movie-producer thought up to include some yeti-fighting action. A nice cup of steaming hot chocolate would've been the exact medicine for a sub-zero afternoon like this one, but the one whom agreed was immediately pulled outside by his two dear brothers Fred and George, who happened to be "in the mood for a little snowballing to celebrate the first day of winter holidays" the minute a snowflake had descended. His best friends Harry and Hermione were there too, however, so he figured worst come to worst, he could always get them to form an alliance (allegiance) of complaining. Whoosh, snowballs came in and out, until they found a good target to hit, and by the end of ten minutes all of them were soaked from melting snow. All were soaked but one, Hermione, his girl friend, who was watching quietly. It was evident to all but her that the space between those two words "girl" and "friend" irritated him greatly. At this time She abruptly rose and faced the boys.

"I think you've made enough chances for hypothermia for one day," she said, shaking her head. "In fact, if I leave you for ten minutes, you might be ice sculptures."

"Yeah, besides, there's a piping hot chocolate with my name on it!" was the cheerful reply. The boy's brothers shook their heads jokingly at this.

"Never thought I'd see a Weasley rather be a chocolate bunny than an ice sculpture," said Fred, tutting away.

"Honestly, Ron, whose side are you on?" added George.

Ron Weasley was about retort to his twin brothers, but another sound erupted from the side of him.

"Mine, I'm going too," Harry said suddenly, walking toward the door, "I need to be able to thaw out before the Quidditch game tomorrow." Ron silently agreed with this proposition; Gryffindor needed another win. If only I could play too, Ron thought.

"Suit yourself. Not wanting to become decorative winter sculptures, the youth of today..." Fred sighed.

"You are the youth of today." Harry, Ron and Hermione said in unison.

"We're special representatives, only desiring happiness through pranks." George said, while Fred put his hand on his heart.

In the end, the three friends Ron, Hermione, and Harry stepped into the castle for a mid-afternoon snack, whilst Ron's two brothers Fred and George continued to throw snow at each other. While heading to the dining area, Harry was thinking about the new Quidditch strategy Angelina Johnson, the captain, had suggested to him; Hermione was thinking of learning an advanced charm to impress Professor Flitwick in front of the Charms class, and possibly get some extra credit; Ron was thinking back and forth between asking Hermione if she was cold, and a great warm pudding he was dying to eat.

Unfortunately, the not-so-beloved Slytherin Draco Malfoy was blocking their path to the Great Hall. Ron growled involuntarily at the sight, and Draco smiled at this.

"Barbaric as ever, eh, Weasel? Well, it goes with that ridiculous wild animal perched on Granger's head."

This entirely had the effect Draco wanted it to. Hermione glared, as Ron immediately jumped up to take a chunk out of that disgusting smirk, only to be dismayingly held back by his friends. Desperately trying to be released, Ron could only protest muffled.

"That-that-low level bastard-let me at him!"

"He's not worth it, Ron." Hermione muttered. Ron begged to disagree: who else could give him such glory by losing for once? He crinkled his nose. Sensibility isn't for these kinds of things! The prat is obnoxious and insulting; shouldn't teachers care more about the safety of the emotionally weak than a few well-chosen punches, carefully aimed kicks, and quick spits in the pumpkin juice? Even just one of those, for heaven's sake, Ron couldn't help adding in his mind.

"It just isn't fair," Ron scowled as he sat down at the Gryffindor table, "Malfoy deserves to be hit!"

"Think about it Ron: You kick Malfoy, he tattles to the teachers, fifty-plus points are withdrawn from Gryffindor, and Malfoy smirks off once again, only now with the pleasure of those points taken from us. That's more of a loss than a victory. I know he's a real pain, but there's nothing we can do about it."

Hermione sensed the finish and sipped her hot chocolate. She usually ended excitement with her logic. Ron despised her for it; he liked being all winded up, yelling loudly as if to tell people he was part of a great plan for justice. He wouldn't give up this fight though; after all, this was justice. Hermione must hear the horrible and untrue things Malfoy says about her. His hair's disgusting, that gelled, pus yellow tuft on his head; what's he doing insulting Hermione's? Why should he win for being a hypocritical git? Ron chose a worn but true point while taking a good bite out of a roll:

'We always get in trouble!" Ron said, muffled by chewing. "Every year, we always do something deserving of us being expelled, and yet look at us! I'm almost one-hundred percent sure we're present!"

"We were breaking rules," Hermione shuddered at the phrase 'breaking rules', "To make this school safe, to make Harry safe! We weren't fighting some little twit annoying us in the halls! We were fighting a murderer!"

Ron felt a pang in his chest at the word "we". He had never even seen You-Know-Who; all he ever saw was a mangled, dirty, sometimes even bloody Harry, who then told Ron and Hermione the epic tale. Alright, Ron told himself, Hermione did most of the homework in preparation. Second year was practically a bloody miracle: she was petrified but still managed to tell him and Harry what the Basilisk was and how it was getting around. What did Ron ever do? At least I would be realistically able to cut Malfoy down, Ron thought bitterly.

Most would've stopped the argument there, but Ron just gulped a glass of pumpkin juice aggressively and went on:

"What's the difference? Why don't we just nip Malfoy at the bud before he turns into his dad's buddy? It's not like we want another You-Know-Who!"

"Ron!" Hermione whispered harshly. Ron gave her a usual half-joking pleading look to break up the seriousness. Hermione just glared.

"This is not a matter to-" she tried to say, only to be interrupted by a severe sneezing fit from her right. She turned to face Harry, who after another loud eruption, rested his head in his hands, a small groan audible.

"Oi, Harry! 'R'you ok?" Ron patted Harry's back, looking mildly concerned.

"Fine, I'm fine. I'm probably just catching a cold; it is winter, you know. I'll go up to Madam Pomfrey later."

Hermione put her hand up to his forehead, only to open her eyes wider in worry.

"You're burning up! I knew you shouldn't have stayed out getting hit with ice balls. You should go up now before it gets worse."

"Yeah, Hermione's probably right. I'll come up with you, too. We don't want you out for the match against Ravenclaw. " Ron said. Harry tried to stand up, but all in vain, as a second sneezing fit caused him to nearly topple over Dean Thomas, at the last minute saved by Hermione and Ron.

"It's gonna be a long trip to the Wing, isn't it?" Ron muttered, but soon continued to pat Harry's back and help him up the stairs.

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Madam Pomfrey tutted at their story:

"Throwing snowballs for hours, not properly drying..." She rolled her eyes,

"There should be a common-sense class here. Every day I see stupider medical problems."

"He will be able to heal with a little pepper-up potion, won't he? It doesn't look like any, well, Muggle cold," said Hermione, anxious for an answer.

"Gryffindor needs him for the match in twenty-four hours!" Ron added,

"Twenty-four! Only a day!"

"Yes Mr. Weasley, I understand a match is tomorrow! Well, I won't deny that he looks pretty worn for an ordinary cold, and all that severe sneezing is not a common symptom in that diagnosis. Then again, you were out there a good amount of time throwing unimaginable objects of icy watery proportions, it was awfully cold, and Mr. Potter is normally more frail than the rest..."

"Frail?" Harry repeated with displeasure, "I am not frail!" Frail, weak, delicate, puny or any other words denying his masculine strength were Harry Potter's least favorite words. Ron snorted at this slightly, but try to understand his situation! Hermione elbowed him soon after.

The scene ceased quickly however as Hermione turned to Madam Pomfrey again.

"So, will he be better with usual treatment?"

"Most likely yes, Miss Granger, he will be healed by a good dose of pepper-up. All the same, the prescription calls for rest, so out you two!" Madam Pomfrey pointed her finger toward the door, sighing at Ron's last "twenty-four hours" going out.

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"Hope he's better by tomorrow. I've started to get a little concerned." Ron said as Hermione closed the door of the Hospital Wing.

"Most likely yes, he will be healed by a good dose of pepper-up..." Hermione quoted Madam Pomfrey nervously, causing Ron to feel another pang. If he were sneezing so, would she commence the shrill squeaks of worry, or was it just Harry? Argh, of course she would worry about the both of us, we're best friends, Ron thought, besides, I shouldn't care; Harry's the one sick. The sudden silence woke him up from this, and he then found a need to say something to break up Hermione's surely overly worrisome thoughts, searching through her mental encyclopedic knowledge for something medical.

"Did you see Vicky-I mean Viktor, over the summer?" Ron blurted out. Stupid stupid stupid, he added in his brain. Hermione looked at him, surprised.

"No, of course I didn't, the distance was much too farfetched; my parents would never had allowed me. Viktor did look pretty upset about it, but- why on earth am I repeating this? I told you this last year!"

Ron blinked at Hermione's exasperated sigh.

"You did?"

"Yes! Yes I did! I told you and Harry that Viktor invited me to Bulgaria, and you demanded to know if I would go or not- I do believe you did do quite a fair amount of damage to that pestle- and I told you I wasn't going! Mind, you didn't respond, you were too busy grinding the table, you might not have heard." Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron blushed.

"I-I didn't mean-"

"Oh, let it be. Let's just be happy there's no Yule Ball this year with the finish of the Triwizard Tournament."

Ron looked surprised; this was the first time since the actual Yule Ball did she discuss it. Then the meaning sunk in:

That's right, Ron thought, there's not going to be a time...well, to "invite her before anyone else". The whole experience was mortifying, and it would've been nice to be able to do it again, to write over that ghastly scene. That night he was being a little irrational, and he didn't mean to miss the point...Then again, what was the point?

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"Oi! Where's Harry?" Seamus asked as Ron and Hermione entered the common room.

"He caught a bad cold; he's in the Hospital Wing now. It shouldn't be too bad." Ron said quickly, glancing at Hermione once or twice. The last thing he needed was for her to burst into tears from stress.

"I was going to say..." Seamus put his hands on his hips.

"What?" Ron said, furrowing his brow.

"Well, it's just that, when you guys enter the common room, it's usually Harry and you, Harry and Hermione or all three of you. You guys simply never enter the room together without Harry."

Ron mentally frowned. As much as he knew Seamus' observation was relatively accurate, Ron disliked the often-used label placed on him as Harry's friend. Bill was Mr. Popularity; Charlie was Mr. Athletic Champion, Percy, Mr. Achiever, Fred and George, Mr. Comedians numbers one and two, Ginny, Miss Girl-Among-Men. Ron crinkled his nose; Mr. Harry's Friend just wasn't, well, noteworthy. Neither was the title Mr. Brother of Future Infamous People and Presently Really Cool Teenagers, Ron thought dismayingly.

"Hey Ron-something wrong?" Dean asked from his chair by the fire next to Seamus. It was then Ron discovered that he was standing there without speaking.

"I think I'll-er-take a nap before dinner," he said abruptly, and swiftly dashed into the dormitory.

"What-what happened there?" Seamus scratched his head.

"I don't think he enjoyed the point you made." Hermione crossed her arms.

"What? All I said was-"

"--That Ron isn't Ron unless with Harry. At least that's how he most likely interpreted it." And Hermione went upstairs too. Seamus blinked.

"Why is it that Hermione can understand people so well? Or at least, why is it that Hermione can understand Ron?"

"Haven't a clue. Anyhow, I hope Harry gets better. I didn't like the look on Madam Pomfrey when I went in to get a Merlin's Maladies cough drop. All distressed," Dean said, popping the drop into his mouth.

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Even though Ron had disliked the comment Seamus made the last night, he did have to admit: it was a bit weird, maybe awkward, without Harry next to him. Sure, the Gryffindor fifth-year boys were all friendly enough, but there's nothing like a best friend to have insurance that you'll have someone to talk to comfortably in a "safe haven". Even so, Hermione was there, sipping tea as usual with her jam and toast. It's not the same, Ron thought stiffly, but I can't just sit here stupidly like I've been for the past few days.

"Er- Hermione?"

"Yes?" Think, Weasley. Middle ground, go for the middle ground!

"How'd your pigeon-into-bookstopper-thingie come out for Transfiguration homework come out?" Homework! Good choice! Yes, yes, good bloke!

Hermione smiled enthusiastically, which made Ron blush with pleasure, and slight embarrassment.

"Simply lovely. It came out a really nice shade of mahogany. I don't know whether or not Professor McGonagall will take off points for the slightly asymmetrical designs though..."

Bullocks, thought Ron, she now thinks I'm interested in this homework assignment. Must think of another topic, quick!

"Er, yeah, mine came out ok. Anyhow, Angelina seems like a good captain, doesn't she?" Aha, Quidditch for me, proof I'm not a sexist pig for her! This is your lucky day, Ron!

"Yeah, she's always really nice, isn't she? You know, I heard Parvati talking to Lavender, talking to Katie Bell talking to Ginny..."

Feck, feck, FECK, Ron thought. Suddenly, Hermione started to giggle.

"You fell for that? Honestly, Ron, I know I'm not 'one of the guys'," Hermione used finger quotes to further express, "But really! You should know me better than that!"

"At least the homework was part was real, right?" Ron said in his tiny defeated voice.

"Maybe it was; I was much too shocked that you actually asked about homework without implying 'do it for me' to think of anything else!" and she started laughing again.

Ron aggressively took a swig of pumpkin juice, and then sighed

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"Madam Pomfrey? Is Harry better?" Hermione asked politely when she and Ron entered into the Hospital Wing. No answer. Hermione called Madam Pomfrey's name a second time, as did Ron, though a little less politely. They eventually had to walk down to the other end of the room to find her, and what they saw wasn't very good.

"Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione said in a tiny squeak.

"I don't know...how...what...when..." Madam Pomfrey elevated her head from resting on her hand, showing dark bags under her eyes.

"What's wrong? Oi, Harry, mate!" Ron was the first to notice Harry sleeping, looking quite fragile. Wake up Harry and make a fuss of my choice of words, come on mate, Ron thought worriedly.

"I tried giving him pepper-up, but the moment the stuff touched his lips, he coughed heavily and...the potion caught fire."

"Fire?" Ron and Hermione whispered in unison.

"I managed to douse it out, but that was no ordinary flame. For one thing, it just managed to burn the potion, no harm to his lips at all."

"The potion could have alcohol likeness, couldn't it, those kind of occurrences can happen with it, maybe there was a spark or something..."

Madam Pomfrey muttered an incantation, a flame erupted from her wand, and she dipped it into a jug of a potion clearly marked "PETE'S PEPPER-UP". The fire disintegrated in a maximum total of five seconds.

"Then how could Harry...?" Ron choked.

"I wish I knew, Mr. Weasley. Now go on to your classes, I assure you I will speak to the other professors about this. He's a tough little chap, but this is highly unusual..."

Hermione said a short "good day" to Madam Pomfrey, and quickly dashed out. Madam Pomfrey's words were obviously too much for her. Ron ran after her.

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"Burning lips on contact! That isn't in the medical books! How could this have happened? He was fine two days ago!" Hermione couldn't fight her panic.

"Well, it must mean someone's tampered with him. Now we just got to track 'em down."

"Ron!"

"What else could it be? Come on, Hermione! Every guy out to make trouble that there bloody is wants to get his hands on Harry!"

"But to get into Hogwarts, do something to him, and sneak off...Ron, he's sick, not...not...cursed!"

"Harry's done a ton of stuff for me, you, Dumbledore, all mankind for god's sake! Just this once can we just try to do something like that for him?"

Hermione stood there, and started to say something, but Ron stopped her.

"Don't tell me 'it's not the same'. It is and you know it, we've always had doubt, yet we manage to be at least partially right. I'll do it alone if you won't support it."

Hermione sighed.

"Do you have a plan?"