Secrets of the Animagi

Chapter 6 - In The Pink

Viktor waited for Hermione to return his greeting. He waited a long time. Perhaps, thought Harry, Viktor's patience was a result of his superior Seeker's skills. In any case, Hermione's continued silence eventually wore him down.

"Are you not happy I haff come to see you?" he asked.

Apparently, too many Quiddich-related head injuries had also made him a bit slow. Hermione didn't look happy; she looked as if she had eaten a vomit flavoured Bertie Botts. Harry nudged Hermione gently with his foot. She returned the gesture, none too gently, by kicking him sharply in the left shin.

"Er, I'll just say goodnight, shall I? Good to see you again, Viktor." Harry didn't wait for a reply. Hermione clearly wanted him to go. However, he just couldn't resist climbing the stairs as slowly as possible. In part, he was worried about his friend. The rest was pure unadulterated curiosity. His tarrying went unrewarded, however. Before Harry could reach the landing, Hermione rushed past him, bolted into her room, and slammed the door with a resounding thud. Harry felt oddly compelled to check on her. He tapped quietly on her door.

"Go away!"

"It's just me, Hermione. Wanna talk?"

"Of course not, Harry. Why do you think I'm in here?" Harry didn't walk away. He heard Hermione trudge across her room. She opened the door a small crack and sighed. "Alright. Viktor's not with you, is he?"

"Haven't seen him."

"Good." She opened the door a little wider, but didn't invite Harry into the room. "Harry Potter? Talk about feelings? Since when?"

"Since now, I guess," he said with a shrug. "So, do you wanna?"

"Not really, but thanks. Good night, Harry."

"Good night, then." She was definitely hiding something. Strangely, he didn't think she seemed unhappy.

Sunlight streamed onto Harry's bed. Harry rubbed his eyes. When had he fallen asleep? He remembered getting ready for bed, but also remembered that while he had lain in bed, his brain had been whirring madly. Strange visions of Hermione, Krum, and a raucous party of Death Eaters had kept him awake. He reached for his glasses and watch. It was already half past ten. What had happened to Tom? He dressed quickly and ran to Hermione's room. Had she overslept, too?

"Hermione! We're going to miss the Express," he called as he knocked on her door. Half awake, Hermione opened the door.

"Wha- Oh no! Harry, we're late!"

"Just what I was telling-"

"Wait a moment. I'll get dressed."

A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione raced down the stairs. There was Tom standing at the desk.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, why haven't you left for the station?"

"You promised to wake us," said Harry.

"Dear, dear. So I did. Must have got caught up in the rush. Those Slytherin parents-"

Harry hated to interrupt, but there just wasn't time. "Could we contact Mr. Shunpike's office?" A pinch of Floo powder and shout of his name brought the vision of Mr. Shunpike's head into the fireplace.

"Mr. Potter! You're not on the Express?"

"No. Could you hold the train for us?" They heard the wail of a train whistle coming through the Floo network.

"Sorry, Mr. Potter. There's your answer, I'm afraid."

"Is there another train to Hogsmeade?"

"Not until Wednesday next. Too late to do you much good." They thanked Mr. Shunpike and turned from the fireplace in despair.

"Wait, Mr. Potter! I just remembered something that may help."

"Yes, Mr. Shunpike?" Harry sounded hopeful.

"In my day, there was at least one, maybe two latecomers. They never said how they travelled, but perhaps if you contact Professor Dumbledore-"

"Thanks. We'll do that right way."

"Good luck to you." Mr. Shunpike's head disappeared with a pop.

Another pinch of powder and another call into the fireplace. This time Mr. Filch's head appeared.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Potter," he said with a sneer. Apparently the summer off hadn't help Mr. Filch's disposition.

"Mr. Filch, could we speak to Professor Dumbledore please? We've missed the Hogwarts Express."

"You have, have you? There's only one thing to do for the likes of you." Harry's heart sank when Mr. Filch's head disappeared. Suddenly, a small box appeared in the fireplace and the fire went out. This was help? The box probably contained notice of their suspension from Hogwarts. As Hermione picked up the box, there was a faint rattle. Nervously, she carried it to the nearest table and lifted the lid. Inside was a roll of parchment tied with purple ribbon.

Harry withdrew the roll and untied it. The parchment unfurled to its full length. He read out loud, "Hogwarts Emergency Portkey Directions. Step one, prepare potion as directed below- Hermione this goes on forever!"

"No, just three feet. May I?" She took the parchment and read silently for the next twenty minutes. When she finished, she started again. In the meantime, Tom brought breakfast to their table. Harry couldn't take Hermione's silence a moment longer.

"How long will it take to make the Portkey?"

"About four hours to brew the potion, another half hour to let it cool, and a few more minutes to put everything together. If everything goes as planned, we should be at Hogwarts just in time for the Sorting."

"And if not?"

"Merlin help us." Hermione looked at the list of potion ingredients. "Most of these, we have upstairs. Tom should have the rest in the kitchen. Ready to start?"

"Wha' 'bout 'r luggage," Harry asked through a mouthful of porridge. He couldn't very well turn down a meal.

"That, I'll leave to you. Meet me in my room in a few minutes with your supplies. We'll need two cauldrons for this."

Harry finished his breakfast quickly and went upstairs to retrieve his potion making equipment. He took a few minutes to give Rufus and Hedwig fresh food and water.

"Hedwig, you may as well fly ahead. We're going to be a bit late. I don't expect owls care much for Portkeys." Hedwig hooted a reply. Harry pulled a sheet of parchment and a quill from the desk drawer and quickly wrote a note. "Give to Ron as soon as you arrive, OK?" He tied the note to one of Hedwig's legs and opened the window for her. She nibbled his finger affectionately before she took off on her mission. Harry wondered if she would arrive in Hogsmeade before the Hogwarts Express. In not, no harm done he supposed. He just thought Ron might like to know the whereabouts of his two best friends. Harry gathered his cauldron, scales, and phials from his trunk. He didn't notice when Rufus followed him to Hermione's room. Hermione had already started brewing the first part of the potion, using the wash basin to hold one of her portable fires.

"Oh good, you brought Rufus. We'll need some of his fur."

"Rufus? What about Crookshanks?"

"His too, it says from two toothed creatures. Cats will suffice."

"It my imagination, or do we need to solve a riddle, too?"

"It's not your imagination, this looks like Professor Snape's work. I think it's designed to work with whatever a student has available. Although I'm sure he'd be delighted if no one could figure it out. Do you have armadillo bile?"

"Spilt it last year. You?"

"It's on the bed. Bring me the weapons of deceased fowl, too."

Harry located the small bottle of armadillo bile and a bowl of chicken claws and took them to Hermione. He assisted Hermione's work for the next hour, all the time thinking about how to transport the cats and the luggage as well as themselves. "Hermione, how small do you think we could shrink the trunks," he asked suddenly.

"Small enough to fit in our pockets, I think. Why don't you go test the theory in your room? It looks like I have everything I need for now. Leave Rufus, Crookshanks could use some company."

Harry doubted that Crookshanks really needed company, but he left Rufus behind all the same. He practised the Shrinking Charm on Hedwig's empty cage first. It took several repetitions, but he managed to make it small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. Satisfied, he placed the cage in his trunk. Next, he practised on the trunk itself. The charm worked just as well on it as it had on the cage. The trick, however, was restoring the large piece of luggage to its proper size. Harry had to use the Expansion Charm four successive times to restore it to its original appearance. He opened the trunk to check the contents. Luckily, most his possessions could be replaced with a short trip to Diagon Alley if he had failed. Fortunately for his Gringotts account, however, the experiment succeeded. Confident, Harry returned to Hermione's room.

Hermione was nibbling on her fingernails as she watched the potions simmer. "Mission accomplished?"

"Yes," said Harry. "It shouldn't be any trouble at all. How are the potions coming along?"

"One more ingredient to add to my cauldron, then it has to cool completely before it's added to the potion in yours."

"Why should it matter whether it's cool or not?"

"Harry, you really should know better. This is Snape we're talking about."

"Right. What is it we need to add?"

"The cat fur. Lucky you came when you did. Crookshanks was no trouble, but Rufus won't come anywhere near me. I think he's under the bed. At least, that's where his last hiss seemed to be coming from."

Harry peered under the bed. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Would mice work as toothed creatures?"

"Yes. Why?"

Rufus' paw appeared from under the bed and freshly killed mouse came sliding out, stopping by Hermione's feet. Rufus' paw disappeared quickly.

"Eew!"

"I think Rufus would prefer we didn't use his fur," said Harry. He ducked his head back under the bed and winked at the cat.

"Fine. But you're in charge of fur collection, if you don't mind."

Sighing, Harry gingerly plucked the mouse from the floor and plucked out a few tufts of soft brown fur. Hermione directed him to drop them into her cauldron. The potion turned from brown to murky orange.

"Perfect," she said as she extinguished the fire underneath the cauldron.

Harry disposed of the mouse into the dust bin and then washed his hands. Rufus had reappeared from under the bed and rubbed against Harry's legs. Harry picked up Rufus and scratched him between the ears. He wondered if Mrs. Figg had been waiting at the platform for him to deliver Rufus, as Sirius had told him to expect. Just how would he deliver the cat now? He still didn't know where the old witch was, or how to contact her. A knock on the door interrupted his reverie. It was Tom, the barkeep.

"I have an owl for you, Mr. Potter," he said. "Took nearly an hour to catch the feathery git. He's quite a handful, this one." He was holding Ron's owl Pigwidgeon, who was nipping at Tom's fingers in a desperate attempt to get to Harry.

"Thank you, Tom. I'll take him." Harry gently grasped the owl and the letter he was carrying so that Pigwidgeon couldn't start flying about the room. Tom took his leave and returned to the pub's main floor.

"Hermione, help," asked Harry. Pigwidgeon twittered as Hermione untied the letter from his leg. She read:

Harry-

Where are you? An old witch was asking for you on the platform. Said you had her cat. Hope you show up at Hogwarts tonight, 'cause she's travelling with us on the train. She looks ready to hex us all. Ginny, Fred, and George say hello. By the way, Hermione's missing too. Is there something I should know?

-Ron

After Harry and Hermione had stopped laughing at the thought of Mrs. Figg hexing all the students on the Hogwarts Express, they had to decide what to do with the tiny owl. Harry was still holding him firmly.

"I don't think we should take him with us. Ron won't mind if we give Pig a job," said Harry. "You never sent a message to your parents telling them about this morning, did you?"

"With so much to be done, I honestly forgot." Hermione rummaged in the desk for parchment and a quill. She wrote a note and tied it to Pigwidgeon's leg. "I told them that we've been delayed but will reach Hogwarts this evening."

"I hope it's the truth." Harry released the owl, which circled the room once, teasing the cats, before flying out the window. When he turned back to Hermione, she was checking the temperature of the cooling potion. It had thickened, giving it the consistency of porridge. Hermione added it to the contents of the second cauldron, taking care not to splash.

"What next," asked Harry.

"It should simmer thirty minutes and then it needs to cool before assembling the Portkey. Maybe we should clean up a bit while we wait."

Once Hermione's cauldron was clean and dry, it was returned to her trunk along with her phials. Assured that nothing would further was needed from the trunk, Harry shrunk it using the charm he had practised earlier. Hermione picked up the miniaturised luggage and placed it her pocket. It was one less thing to be done later. The potion in Harry's cauldron, its volume greatly reduced, had now finished simmering. Harry hoped there would be enough to create the Portkey. Hermione removed the cauldron from the fire. Harry sat on the floor, continually checking his watch. By now, the Hogwarts Express should be minutes away from pulling in to Hogsmeade. Students would be making a mad dashes for their luggage, ferreting for robes, stashing leftover Chocolate Frogs, all the last minute preparations he was sorely missing as the minutes ticked by. Ten more minutes- Hagrid would be leading first years to the boats.

"Harry," said Hermione.

"Yes?"

"Finally! I've only been saying your name for the last five minutes. It's time to assemble the Portkey. I need you to rub the potion onto the box. I'll say the charm once you're finished." Harry looked at the potion. It was lumpy, pasty, and of all things, violently pink. Just the thing he wanted on his hands. Almost didn't seem fair; first the dead mouse and now this. However, there was no time to waste. He hastily smeared the gooey mess on the wooden box. It was certainly the nastiest Portkey he'd ever seen.

"Transportare Hogwarts quinque post meridian," chanted Hermione, as she tapped the box with her wand. Pink sparks flew, as the paste seemed to sink into the wood of the box. Inexplicably, it transformed into a spangled pink jewellery box.

Yech! Harry thought it was too girlish to be allowed. He wondered if professors other than Snape had a hand in preparing the Portkey instructions.

"Harry, clean the cauldron quickly, we've just ten minutes before it activates. I'll get the cats into their carriers."

Harry rushed downstairs with the sticky cauldron. He hoped Rufus didn't give Hermione too much trouble. He carefully scrubbed the leftover potion out of the cauldron and raced back to his room. There was just enough time to pack his trunk and perform the Shrinking Charm. Harry shoved the trunk into his pocket and dashed down the corridor. Hermione was trying to get Rufus into carrier. The cat had dug his claws into the floor and was spitting at her furiously.

"Rufus! Bad cat," hissed Harry as he entered the room. Rufus relaxed his posture slightly and looked from Harry to the Portkey and back again. "Hermione, never mind the carrier. I think Rufus knows what to do." Rufus had strutted over to the box and placed his paw on it.

"Show off," muttered Hermione.

Harry wasn't so sure. Rufus seemed very familiar with the box. Just too odd, but there wasn't time to coax Rufus into the carrier. Mrs. Figg would have to ask Tom to send it by post. Harry put his hand next to Rufus' paw and motioned for Hermione to join him. She picked up Crookshanks' carrier and placed her free hand on the box. Within a few seconds, Harry felt a tugging sensation as the Portkey activated. The next thing he felt was wet. They had landed in the shallow harbour where the Hogwarts boats were moored. Rufus and Crookshanks were hissing and spitting, none too happy about the unexpected bath.

"Harry James Potter, what have you done to my poor cat!"