The Past and Present Collide

Potions on Monday was possibly the worst class Mandy had ever been to. Somehow, due to the "increased security," she had been landed in the class with the Gryffindors and the Slytherins, and if the constant bickering between Granger and Malfoy wasn't enough to drive a Ravenclaw insane, nothing was.

Even worse was being just lucky enough to land Pansy Parkinson as a partner. While Mandy, shivering and exhausted, bent over her pile of lion fangs and attempted to pulverize them into powder using only a stone, Pansy lazily filed her nails and ordered her to work faster. If she hadn't been so determined to make the perfect potion and ace the class, she would have picked up the stone and ground it into Pansy's eye.

She saw Terry was having no better luck as he was paired with Seamus Finnigan, who kept leaning over to flirt outrageously with Parvati. This in turn caused Padma to turn a rather unflattering shade of red and glare at Seamus while she ground her stone into the table, missing the fangs entirely.

Since Professor Snape had taken sick leave, Potions class had been taken over by the rather incompetent Professor Zindelfrizz, an extremely tall and twitchy wizard who believed perhaps too deeply in the concept of inter-house friendship. He didn't seem to notice that Draco Malfoy was sticking frog hearts in Hermione Granger's hair, or that now Pansy had finished with her nails and started to moisturise her legs on the table.

"Parkinson," Mandy growled, her patience having reached its end, "if you don't get your disgusting legs off this table right now, I'm going to pour bubotuber pus all over them." She brandished a vial of nasty yellow-green liquid threateningly.

Pansy scowled and pulled her legs down, only to pull out a mirror and preen, winking at Malfoy once every few seconds.

Appalled, Mandy finished the last of her lion fangs and dumped them into the cauldron. It bubbled and turned dark crimson, then began to froth as she stirred it.

From the table next to Mandy's, Queenie Greengrass broke off her conversation with Dean Thomas and leaned over to talk to Mandy, a lock of blonde hair falling into her eyes.

"Brocklehurst," she hissed, and Mandy jumped, spilling bubotuber pus all over Pansy's arm.

The pus splashed all across her forearm, and Pansy yelped and stood up, flailing the affected limb, which had just erupted into thick yellow boils. Mandy winced as Professor Zindelfrizz came rushing over, trying to subdue the screaming Slytherin.

Pansy pointed an accusing finger at Mandy and screamed, "Brocklehurst! You're going to pay for this!"

The professor patted Pansy's arm, then flinched as she shrieked in pain and swatted him away.

"There, there, Miss Parkinson, it was all an accident. We'll get you down to the hospital wing and it'll be all right . . ."

"It wasn't an accident!" she screeched. "Brocklehurst had just threatened to pour it all over my legs, and when I moved them, she figured, 'Oh, now I'll just go for the arm!' Look at her! Does she look innocent to you?"

The Professor smiled nervously at Mandy, who sat frozen and looking shocked.

"Please, Miss Parkinson," he begged, "we'll sort it all out once I take you to the hospital wing."

"No! I want to see some punishment now!"

Zindelfrizz was clearly nearing the end of his patience. "I'm sure the Headmaster will punish those involved as he sees fit, but right now the more pressing matter is your arm. Let's go."

Pansy sighed dramatically and surrendered, not without a glare at Mandy, and followed the professor out of the room. After she had gone, Mandy finally exhaled and set the now-empty vial on the table. The rest of the room erupted into laughter and students began to get up and move to be closer to their friends. Queenie stood and took Pansy's vacated seat, a proud grin on her freckled face.

"That was wonderful, Brocklehurst," she said. "You don't know how many times I've done that in my dreams."

"But it really was an accident," Mandy protested.

"Oh, I know," she said dismissively. "Still, there's no need to feel guilty about it. No one likes her, except maybe Draco, and that's only because of the sexual favours she gives him."

Mandy laughed and cast a glance at Draco, who had abandoned Hermione for Crabbe and Goyle, who were guffawing stupidly at the frog hearts stuck in oblivious Hermione's frizzy mane. Draco had been "dating" Pansy since fourth year, and it was rumoured that their parents were pressing for an engagement, but everyone knew there was no affection in the relationship. Mandy almost felt sorry for them. Even though she loved Adrian, her mother's constant nagging about marriage was too much for a sixteen-year-old to bear.

And then, of course, there was Patrick's idea that marriage wasn't what she wanted . . .

As if she could read minds, Queenie chose that moment to bring up the topic Mandy had just been pondering.

"So," she prompted. "What's this I hear about you two-timing Adrian with that ghost? That's revolting, Brocklehurst."

Mandy nearly choked. "Me? Two-timing? With Patrick? That's not even physically possible, Queenie. We're just friends. You know nothing's ever going to come between Adrian and I."

"Good, because that's practically necrophilia." Mandy laughed, but Queenie's face remained grave. "No, I'm serious. He may be interesting and all, but I don't think you should even try to be friends with him. What if you do end up with a crush on him?"

She stopped laughing. "I don't know, but I can't just end it now. I'm the only friend he has. Who told you, anyway?"

"Parvati Patil, the little gossip," she said scornfully. "Supposedly she heard it from her sister, but you and I both know Padma's not likely to start rumours about you. I have a feeling that Padma casually mentioned Patrick to her, and she twisted the truth until it's barely recognisable. I can't stand that girl."

"Sometimes I wonder how they're twins; they're so different," Mandy mused.

"Well, at least you think I'm the trustworthy one," a voice said brightly.

Mandy and Queenie glanced up to see Padma standing at the table, her arms crossed.

"Mind if I sit down?" When neither girl protested, she plopped down and began to drum her long fingernails, painted a vivid pink, on the table. "So I hear my sister's been spreading stupid rumours again? No surprise there."

Queenie grinned. "She told me that Mandy was cheating on Adrian with that ghost, Patrick. Can you believe that?"

"Hardly," Padma said dryly, shooting a questioning glance at Mandy. "Did he ask you to come see him again, Mandy?"

Mandy nodded silently, and Padma threw up her hands in exasperation.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," she replied honestly.

"Well, next time he asks, tell him no. If you don't turn him down once in awhile, he'll start to get attached to you, and both Adrian and Patrick - not to mention the rest of the school - will start to get the wrong idea. I know he's interesting, but curiosity killed the cat, you know."

"God, Padma, you sound like my mother," Mandy snapped. "I know what I'm doing."

The ball rang, and Mandy grabbed her bag, leaving the room in a huff. However, Padma caught up with her only a few moments later.

"Mandy!" Padma stepped in front of her friend, grabbed her shoulders, and frowned. "What was that all about?"

Mandy wrenched out of Padma's grip and turned away, folding her arms. "I'm just sick of hearing about Adrian and Patrick and how I'm single-handedly bringing down the whole Pucey line by fraternizing with the undead. This morning some second-year Slytherin asked me if I knew that Adrian was asking about me today and then warned me that if I'm cheating on him, her entire house will kill me. I mean, Jesus. It's not like I can just walk away from Patrick and never see him again."

"Why can't you?" Padma inquired, quirking a dark eyebrow.

"Because he's a bloody ghost. He can walk through walls. If he wants to see me, I'm sure he can manage. And besides--" She stopped herself, realising she had said too much.

"Besides what?" Receiving only silence as an answer, Padma moved to face Mandy again. When Mandy refused to meet her eyes, she stepped closer. "Besides what, Mandy?"

"Dumbledore asked me to," Mandy said hurriedly. "When he called me into his office, he told me that he had reason to believe that Patrick knew something about the attacks on the school and he wanted me to see if I get any information from Patrick about it--"

"What? You mean Patrick might be the one behind all this?"

"No! All I'm saying is that no one knows how he died, but they do know that something very similar to what's going on now happened during his time at Hogwarts. So maybe that's what killed him and he'll know how to stop it this time."

"I think he's just taken an interest in you and he wants to kill Adrian so he can have you all to himself," Padma said.

Mandy snorted. "Honestly, Padma, don't be daft. No one would ever make such a fuss over me."

Padma shrugged and sighed, defeated. "Whatever. We have to get to Muggle Studies. Where's Terry?"

* * *

Adrian loved the hospital wing when it was empty. It was strange that he, so used to the thrill of flight and the roar of crowds, found solace in the silence, but he savoured it whenever he could find it. He could hear the distant murmur of voices in the hallways and the wind howling outside, but a hush had fallen over the room. Of all the Slytherins, he had been most gravely injured in the attack, and so he was left behind when the rest were released.

Today Madam Pomfrey was working in her office, leaving Adrian alone to do whatever he pleased. A friend had brought him his sketchbook earlier in the day, so he had been working on one particular drawing all morning.

Callused, scratched fingers held the charcoal pencil delicately, tracing the outline of a face onto paper. The gentle curve of a cheekbone was completed. The hand moved slightly, pressing down harder to form the dark, long strokes that slowly began to resemble strands of hair. Another dark, short stroke in the centre of the page and the eyelashes began. A black circle for the pupil, a smudge beneath the eye, short lines for the eyebrows. Streaks of charcoal gradually fashioned a familiar face.

"You're quite good," a voice remarked.

Adrian jerked, sending a black line flying across the corner of the portrait. Frowning, he took his white eraser and rubbed vigorously until the line disappeared. Satisfied, he finally looked up at the speaker, and was not pleased at what he saw.

"What do you want, Parkinson?"

Pansy smiled slightly. "You know, if your Quidditch career really is finished like they say, you have a promising future as a portrait artist. You can make even Mandy's face look pretty. That's a rare talent."

"What do you want, Parkinson?" he repeated.

"I want to see Madam Pomfrey, that's what I want."

Pansy's curly brown hair fell into her eyes as she searched the room for the mediwitch. Adrian noticed a cluster of ugly yellow boils on her arm, making her pink, splotchy skin look even worse.

"What happened to you?"

Her cold gaze met his, and her mouth twisted into a sneer. "Your girlfriend accidentally spilled bubotuber pus all over me during Potions a few minutes ago. That moron Zindelfrizz sent me up here to get medical attention. Didn't even punish that twit Brocklehurst for what she did to me." Noticing Adrian's glare, she flashed him a sickly sweet smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot you were in love with her, even though everyone knows she's been prancing around school with that ghost and snogging her best mate in the Great Hall the night you nearly died. Now where on earth is Madam Pomfrey?"

"Terry?"

"What? Oh, you mean was she snogging Terry? Mmhmm. Everyone saw him kiss her and about half the school saw her snog him back. Good thing those sleeping bags were in the way, I'm telling you . . ."

Just before Adrian hurled a half-empty glass of water at Pansy's head, Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office, clicking her tongue. Without saying a word to either of them, the nurse took one look at Pansy's arm and led her to a bed, then motioned for her to sit.

She rummaged around in a drawer until she found what she was looking for: a jar of bright orange ointment.

"This will pop the boils," she said, and Pansy pulled a face. "Yes, I know it's disgusting, but so is the current state of your arm." She seemed to know even without turning around that Adrian was watching her apply the salve with a sort of horrified fascination, and said, "Back to your drawing, Pucey. Nothing to see here."

Adrian ducked his head but watched through his eyelashes as Pansy winced and gagged as her boils popped and the pus oozed into a basin below her arm. It was the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen in his life, but it gave him an odd sort of satisfaction to see Pansy writhe.

Madam Pomfrey wiped the arm clean with a cloth dipped in pale blue potion and then dried and bandaged it.

"Come back to me tomorrow and I'll remove the bandages," the nurse said.

Pansy nodded, her pug-like face contorted in distaste.

"Will you be on time for class, Miss Parkinson?" Pansy nodded again, and Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Very well. You're free to go."

Adrian watched her leave, her curls bouncing, and shook his head before returning to his picture. He picked up the pencil to finish shading the lips, but took one long, hard look at them and then set the sketchbook aside. He didn't much feel like drawing anymore.

* * *

Terry was already ladling gravy all over his potatoes, peas, roast chicken, and carrots when Padma and Mandy arrived at dinner. He barely looked up from his food as his friends sat down, one on each side of him, and began to help themselves to the food.

"What took you so long?" he asked, through a mouthful of potatoes.

Gravy dribbled down his chin and he wiped it off with a napkin. Mandy wiped a sweaty lock of hair off her forehead and helped herself to steak and kidney pie before answering him. Padma drained an entire glass of pumpkin juice in one draft and then belched delicately. She smiled apologetically at the people near her who flashed her looks of disgust.

"Oh, nowhere," Mandy said lightly. "We just had a few things to clean up at the end of class."

"Cleanup after History of Magic?" Terry quirked an eyebrow and gulped his juice.

"Um, yeah, I made a huge mess when my notebook broke," Padma said.

"You two have always been horrible liars. What's going on?"

Mandy opened her mouth to explain, but was cut off by someone calling her from across the room. She whirled around to see a group of Slytherin girls, Queenie Greengrass among them, waving at her. Blaise Zabini had her arm around Julian and was twirling a black curl around one long, dark finger. Julian flashed a smile at Padma, who blushed deeply and turned around, pretending to be very interested in her peas.

"Oi, Brocklehurst!" Queenie called. Mandy didn't understand why all the Slytherin girls insisted on calling her by her surname. "You know Adrian's coming back tonight?" Mandy nodded. "Then you'd better tell your ghost over there to scram before Adrian comes to dinner!"

Mandy looked around until she found Patrick, leaning against a wall at the far end of the Great Hall, near the entrance. She waved, scowling, just as he snuck a glance at her, causing him to fall through a suit of armour in surprise. She frowned and got up from her bench and crossed the space between them. Patrick stood up abruptly and smiled, oblivious to the laughter and whispers that rose steadily as Mandy got closer to him.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, and his smile faded.

"Well, I--"

"It doesn't matter. You have to leave, right now. My boyfriend is getting released from the hospital wing any minute now and if he sees you there'll be hell to pay." She sighed and looked down at the floor. "I can't see you anymore, Patrick. At least not for a while. Between all the rumours and my boyfriend coming back and all my homework . . . I just can't do it right now. I'm sorry, truly I am, but you have to stay away from me for awhile until all this dies down."

She glanced up and was shocked by how hurt he looked. His large eyes did not stray from hers as he nodded, slowly, and then smiled sadly and glided through the wall and away.

Mandy watched him go, and then hung her head, feeling very bad indeed. How would she tell Dumbledore she failed him? She knew he wouldn't accept her explanation, no matter how logical it was. Her relationship with Adrian - which Dumbledore had only heard the worst of - hardly seemed important compared to the safety of the school and its students.

But what right did he have to entrust that safety to her, anyway? It wasn't her job to keep an eye on all the school ghosts. He could talk to Patrick himself if he really wanted to know what Patrick knew. He certainly had the power. Unless he had something else up his sleeve . . .

"Mandy!"

She slowly turned around to see none other than Adrian bounding towards her, bandage-free, his sketchbook clutched under one arm. She noticed as he got closer than his hands and cheeks were smudged with charcoal. He grinned his crooked grin at her and pulled her, as she laughed and struggled playfully, into a tight embrace.

"Adrian, not here," she giggled. "McGonagall will kill us."

"That's what I get for a greeting?" he said, letting her go and arching his dark brows.

"Hi."

"Hi," he laughed. "Come sit down with me. Have you eaten? You look so skinny."

"I started to eat . . ."

"What were you doing over there, anyway?"

"Nothing. I thought I forgot something and I was about to go get it, but it doesn't matter now. I'm so glad you're back. Did you know we had a substitute in Potions today? Professor Zindelfrizz."

Adrian had taken her hand and was leading her across the room to the spot Julian and Blaise had saved for him. He was smiling and nodding at the people who waved or called his name as he walked by, but then he turned to Mandy and focused his attention on her in the way that made her blush and fidget, wishing he'd turn his dark eyes away from her a moment before he looked too hard and saw something she didn't want him to see.

"Really? What happened to Snape?"

"I don't know, but they're tripling up our classes now for 'security measures' or something, and I had to be with the Gryffindors and the Slytherins today . . ."

"Sounds hellish," he said, and grinned as he took a seat.

Mandy slid into the seat next to him and shrugged apologetically at Padma and Terry, who were glaring at her from across the room, before helping herself to some food and launching into a frantic conversation with Julian, Blaise, and Adrian.

Terry speared a potato with his knife and glowered sullenly at it as he twirled the impaled vegetable before eating it.

"I've never liked Adrian, you know," he mused. "This just confirms the fact that we'll always be second in her life as long as he's around. Even the ghost got rejected, and you said Dumbledore told her to pay attention to him . . . And look, she's talking to Blaise and Julian, even after she watched the hallway while you snogged Julian not ten minutes ago. You think she'd be a bit more hostile to the girl who comes between her best friend and the guy she likes, but noooo, the Slytherins are always more interesting, aren't they? Padma? Are you listening?"

He turned his head and Padma nodded quickly at him, then smiled, her cheeks bulging with a huge bite of Mandy's pie.

"You're both hopeless," he declared, and ate his potato.