Potion Accident

Chapter 11: 31 October 9:00 AM -- 1 December 5:00 PM – Potion Accident

Several days after the demonstration of elementary chemistry in the Great Hall, I was taking notes from a book in the library. The book couldn't be checked out, and I was stuck in the library, which I hated. One feature of the library was Miss Granger, who was now bearing down on me. She wanted to know if we could talk. We moved to a remote table. I was thinking that I should let her talk, let her get it all out. Perhaps it would reduce the hostility. Of course, it also made me vulnerable. Since I wasn't angry at anyone, except possibly myself, I wouldn't be a match for a lioness who was angry.

I took a chance. "Did you come to ask why I insulted Mr. Weasley?"

She nodded yes.

I had already told Flitwick, Shan, and Luna. It wasn't a secret anymore. I would give up the advantage to help prevent more confrontations.

"It was to get your group's attention," I said. "After I insulted Mr. Weasley, six of you were facing me and only two of you were facing Draco and the other four. I was hoping I could defend myself against the first round of curses. I expected to go down against the second round."

She was listening intently.

"During the first round, I expected Vincent and Gregory to charge like bull elephants. The two Gryffindor boys facing them would have to take them out. Draco, Barbara, and Shelly would take out the two Gryffindor boys."

She was nodding agreement.

"During the second round, I would fall, but three of the six facing me would be taken out by Draco, Barbara, and Shelly. That would leave Draco and the two girls facing three opponents. Most likely those three opponents would include the young Ravenclaw. Victory to Draco."

"But you would have fallen," said Miss Granger.

"Yes, but I didn't expect to be killed, except maybe by Mr. Weasley," I said. "And during the entire confrontation, I would have used only defensive spells."

"Only defensive spells?" she asked. Then the answer hit her. "Of course, the best thing you could do would be to simply survive."

I may as well spill everything. "Besides, I didn't want to cast a spell against anyone. Who would be my target? Luna? Shan? You?"

"What would you have done if insulting Ron hadn't worked?"

"I would have done something that would have had all eight of you facing me in total outrage," I said. "My next step would have been to give Hermione Granger a pimple."

"What!"

"Right on the end of your nose."

Something about Miss Granger was inspiring. I continued, "An evil, Durmstrang pimple, a landmark pimple. A picture of it, along with your face, would be in the next edition of Hogwarts, A History."

"I'm going to sit here and study so that I can warn other people about you," she told me, pulling out her books.

"It's my duty as a Prefect," she added, looking up from her parchment.

A thought flickered through my mind.

Terrible my plight:

Mistrusted by all,

Chained by a book witch,

Bound to a table.

Miss Granger was looking at me. Should I share my thoughts? I wondered. No, I decided. I had seen her with her friends. Miss Granger was for the likes of Weasley, the Lion-Hearted ... not for sensitive souls like me.

"Silently lamenting," I told her.

She rolled her eyes and went back to her parchment.

I had finished taking notes from the library book and was getting up to leave.

"Have you done your Transfiguration homework yet?" asked Miss Granger.

"No."

"I thought not," she said. "You don't have a partner. Well, it's no wonder."

Miss Granger continued to describe my fine qualities. "You were slow at the beginning. You're catching up, but you still need help. I have my books with me, and we can find an empty classroom. I'm sure you'll do okay with a little prompting."

"Your kindness touches the hearts of wizards everywhere," I informed her.

The Ravenclaw couple at the next table could stop their snickering, I thought.

Miss Granger continued to gather her books. I became impatient with my charitable help-mate.

"Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table."

"What?" said Miss Granger.

The two Ravenclaws lost it.

Hi ho, hi ho, to transfigure we will go, I thought.

"I have measured out my life in Transfiguration spells."

That, Miss Granger could relate to. At last, I had made a connection. Thank you, Tough Shit Eliot.

"Would you like some help carrying all those books?" I asked.

As we searched for an empty classroom, Miss Granger's face was furrowed with thought. Finally, she spoke:

"In the quiet classrooms of my mind,

Through the silent corridors of my soul,

I have measured out my life in empty spells."

"Not bad," I told her.

Wow, I thought. I didn't realize Miss Granger had such a warm, radiant smile.

Of course, I had to keep all this in perspective. Her brow had furrowed for quite some time before coming up with the free verse. I could not imagine Miss Granger doing the revisionist analysis of Hogwarts that Padma had done.

* * *

I was taking a different route to class along almost abandoned corridors when I heard a moan. Thinking it might be someone in trouble I peered into a room. I recognized Mr. Shovick. He had his back to me, and he was embracing Miss Cummings, running his hands over her clothes. She didn't see me because her eyes were closed. I watched as Mr. Shovick unbuttoned Miss Cummings' blouse. He reached in. I saw her breast fall out. She moaned again as he placed his mouth on it. His hand was under her skirt. I stood beside the doorway, out of sight, unable to move in shock and pain. I heard what sounded like scuffling and then Miss Cummings' soft, but sharp, grunts as Mr. Shovick penetrated her body. I was finally able to move away, nauseous and dizzy.

The next day in the Great Hall I saw Miss Cummings look expectantly at John Shovick as he entered. I saw her pain as he ignored her. I wanted to smash John Shovick's face in. Miss Cummings noticed me, came over, and sat down.

"So," Miss Cummings said, "you just watched John snub me."

I was still too shocked and angry to answer.

"I bet you can guess what happened, can't you," she said.

"Can I get you anything, Miss Cummings?"

"What?" she asked. "A brain? Another life?"

She turned angry toward me. "You can figure everything out, can't you. You always know what's going on, don't you. You know everything and can figure out everything. Except Hermann. You don't know Hermann, do you. You can't figure out Hermann, can you."

I waited. Had I done something to hurt this woman? She hadn't been with that scumbag John Shovick because of me, had she? That was too painful to contemplate. Besides, it couldn't be true. Girls don't like me. I couldn't have anything to do with this.

Miss Cummings gave me a contemptuous look, got up, and left.

Just to explore a train of thought, I wondered what would happen if girls did like me. Did Miss Cummings get involved with John Shovick because I had ignored her? A much more painful idea hit me. What about Padma? Had she flirted with other boys because she liked me? Padma's beauty would make her very successful. I felt sick. I resolved to go down no more abandoned corridors and to look into no more rooms. I didn't want to know what was happening.

It took a while for emotions to subside and reason to return. Miss Cummings hadn't intended to make any sense. She just wanted to lash out after Mr. Shovick had snubbed her, and I had made the mistake of being polite to her because I liked her. Because I liked Miss Cummings, I had put myself in the position of being the 'nice little boy.' Well, it was a mistake anyone could make. I now knew not to make the mistake again with Miss Cummings ... and to be more careful with other women in the future.

The day after lashing out at me, Miss Cummings came over and sat at the table where Draco, Barbara, Shelly, and I were studying. She kept glancing at me, but I knew she was just looking for a 'nice little boy' to belittle. Although it was extremely hard to be impolite, I ignored her. She finally left.

There were an odd number of students in sixth-year Potions, and Miss Cummings was paired with Mr. Shovick and Mr. Broderick. The next Potions class, Miss Cummings was working with the two of them as before. I figured Miss Cummings was accepting her relationship with Mr. Shovick. Before the week was over, Mr. Shovick would have her legs spread again.

* * *

The next day I was headed toward the front gate when Miss Granger left her friends and asked, "Are you going for one of your walks?"

"Yes."

She was standing there looking at me.

"Would you like to come?" I finally said.

I had to wait while she got her coat. I stood by the front castle gate where I had once waited for Miss Weasley. I tried not to think that I wished then, and wished now, that I was waiting for Padma. I was in a somber mood by the time Miss Granger arrived.

"I'm surprised you waited for me," said Miss Granger.

We walked towards the forest.

"I wanted to talk to you," said Miss Granger, "if you can stop carrying on about giving me a pimple."

"Are you still obsessing about the confrontation?" I asked.

"You outmaneuvered us," she replied. "You turned an even match into a one-way match."

"It wasn't an even match," I said. "Draco had Vincent and Gregory and two scared girls. If your group had backed up, out of physical reach of Vincent and Gregory, the other side wouldn't have had a chance."

"It started with Grabbe and Goyle bullying a second year," Miss Granger protested.

"I guessed that. That's what I told the professor," I said.

"If you're romantic," I said, "think about Barbara and Shelly. They stood with Draco against the most formidable fighting force Hogwarts has ever seen."

Draco had shrugged off the confrontation, but Barbara and Shelly were angry and had told Vincent and Gregory to stop getting everyone into trouble. Life was getting interesting for Draco. After the mock duel, Barbara and Shelly had been glaring at me until other students started telling them how 'cool' their boyfriend was.

"Why did you provoke the professor? There was no reason for it," said Hermione.

"I may have misjudged that," I admitted. "As the confrontation ended I was thinking that it might not be clear on whose side I was. Fence straddlers are hated by everyone. Besides, instead of Mr. Weasley killing me immediately, he would gloat while I was on detention and kill me later. That would give me a chance to apologize to him and escape death. But it's possible the situation was not that serious, and I caused myself unnecessary pain."

* * *

Brown smoke billowed out of the cauldron. Draco and I were backing up fast. Barbara and Shelly, screaming and waving their wands for containment spells, had us by our collars and were pulling us back even faster. We cleared the room. Barbara and Shelly sealed the lab, neutralized the brew, and took Draco and me to the infirmary. We were examined and pronounced okay, more or less. When she learned what we had been doing and the ingredients involved, the nurse took Draco and me into a private room.

"You're going to find this hard to believe," she informed us. "Quite frankly, I find it hard to believe, too, but for the next week the two of you are going to be twice as randy as usual."

She was right. Draco and I did not believe it possible. She was right. We were. Ah yes, the exciting field of psycho-active potions.

I remember when I was six years old my father spent a week in bed crying. My mother told us that his eyes were irritated. It was a good story for a six-year-old boy and his two-year-old sister. After witnessing several Potions accidents at Durmstrang, I realized it was probably more serious than irritated eyes. My mother convinced my father to change from psycho-active to a less risky field of Potions about the time I entered Durmstrang. "It's a young man's game. You've already made lots of contributions. You should save what remains of your health."

I was away from home most of the time after that, but my sister said that he had stopped having his bouts of bizarre behavior. My sister said our mother was more relaxed and much happier. My sister also told me they were more passionate these days. I replied that she was a little young to be thinking those things, but she just stuck out her tongue at me. The family was glad my sister's talent was in Charms instead of Potions.

* * *

True to her word, Miss Granger plunked herself beside me the next Transfiguration class.

"You look like you need some help," she said loudly enough for the entire class to hear.

She inspired me. Besides a squawk, I managed to emit, "What's this, the 'Sisterhood for the Protection of Evil Wizards?'"

"We're very active these days," she announced to the entire class.

She eventually asked me to call her 'Hermione' like everyone else.

During one class, we were turning innocent pebbles, which had never done anyone any harm, into beetles. I told Hermione about the mundane biologist who, at the end of a long career, was being interviewed. The newspaperman wanted to know what a lifelong study of biology had taught the old professor about the mind of the Almighty. I imitated the professor's creaky old voice, "Well ... Ee seems to be ... inordinately fond of beetles."

It was a case of bad timing. Hermione couldn't stop laughing.

"Fond of beetles!" she yelped in glee, zapping an innocent rock into a ferocious specimen.

"Beetle!" I yelped, along with a curse that splattered its constituent goop over the nearby students.

"Ewwww! You mucky beast!" yelped Hermione at me.

"Detention!" yelped the professor at me.

"Are you Gryffindors always such bad luck?" I hissed at Hermione.

"You hiss like a Slytherin," hissed Hermione.

"That's the first nice thing you've said to me," I hissed back.

Working with Hermione in Transfiguration wasn't all bad. By that time I had internalized the Hogwarts approach to Transfiguration, and I was keeping up with a smart partner. Besides, I could play an aggressive point-gathering game in Transfiguration. The Professor and the other students misinterpreted it as personal rivalry. "I'm only doing this for House Ravenclaw," I reminded myself, smirking back at Hermione's glare as I scooped her for the third time in a row.

Draco and Hermione were a problem. Room temperature dropped when those two got close. I did have to use a different study place when I worked with Hermione, which made me feel like a traitor. I patched up everything with Draco by constantly offering to introduce him to more girls. Quite a number were jealous of Barbara and Shelly. Draco, however, was very happy with Barbara and Shelly: he really wasn't interested in any others, and he certainly didn't want to upset Barbara and Shelly. I found his faithfulness endearing. Draco, bless his heart, was a two-woman man.

Hermione discovered that she did not have to prompt me to do the work in Transfiguration. I, after all, was here partly to take advantage of one of the best schools for the subject. After a number of discreet inquiries and leading questions, Hermione decided I had nothing against mundanes ('Muggles' she called them). She relaxed. She talked about her first eleven years and about her summers. Like Shan, she talked about the sacrifices for high performance: the anxiety, the cost in terms of relationships and friends, and the cost in terms of school-age activities.

As for her two best friends, I think Hermione decided to be selfish in Transfiguration. She really liked the subject and reveled in not being held back by her study partner.

Something had to go wrong amidst all this cozy fluff.

It was time for nature to balance the benefits of working with Hermione. It did so with a vengeance. I was starting to like Hermione Granger. I was starting to find Hermione Granger attractive. Here comes more pain, I realized, as I fought to keep my feelings hidden and under control. I'm not a lion tamer, I thought. I'm not good with animals. Hermione Granger already has a boyfriend. To top everything off, this attraction was occurring while I was still suffering from the aftermath of the Potions accident. I wish I could say that I howled at the moon, but it was scarier than that. I kept dreaming about Hermione showing me her secret tunnel, being able to get past her whomping defenses and enter it if I touched her right spots, and ending my journey with Hermione shrieking. I had no idea what that dream meant. I howled at the moon, too.

Nature added one more cruel twist. With genuine admiration came genuine concern. Hermione did not seem to have any periods of childish behavior or any form of release from tension. I was certain she was going to crack or explode. I wished that I was her friend and that I could provide some relaxation for her. But I wasn't and I couldn't. I could only watch in frustration and hope her two friends were doing something.

* * *

Draco and I had a busy and productive week in Potions. Later, we were back studying in the Great Hall, catching up in the other subjects. It was halfway between tea and dinner when I closed my books and stood up.

"Are you taking a walk?" asked Shan.

I nodded yes.

"It's cold out," said Shan. "I'll go with you if you walk through the greenhouse."

I agreed even though I preferred the cold air to wake me up. Shan wanted to show me her favorites, the medicinal plants.

"I'm surprised you're not taking Herbology," said Shan. "Don't you like plants?"

"I'm indifferent to plants," I said. "But you're right. A lot of people in Potions take Herbology and Magical Creatures."

"I thought they would," said Shan.

"It helps to know about them," I said, "but I'm not interested in taking care of them."

"But taking care of them is the fun part," said Shan.

"It's the brave part, too," I said in sudden inspiration. I was afraid Shan was thinking of me as a cold-blooded, uncaring twit.

"You should see the animals that the professor brings to class," replied Shan with awe.

Shan showed me some medicinal plants. I let her handle them since she knew how. I knew there was a fine line between most medicines and poison. Shan put the plants back, and then looked as if she was thinking something serious.

"When school started, you were good friends with Draco Malfoy," she said. "You still are."

"Yes," I said.

"Now you're studying with Hermione Granger in Transfiguration. You and Hermione squabble, but that's superficial," said Shan.

It didn't feel superficial to me. Shan wasn't on the receiving end of Hermione's jibes.

"They have different backgrounds," I said, "but they're both intelligent, determined people."

"Of course she's just a study partner. That doesn't mean Hermione could be a ... a friend ... or anything else," said Shan.

I felt thick. I thought Shan was curious about working with both Draco and Hermione.

"If you're curious about working with both Draco and Hermione," I said, taking an oblique approach, "the answer is that I work with them separately."

"If you're wondering about the pure wizard thing," I said, "my background is mixed."

I told her about the Potions wizard and the mundane business lady working together and then getting married.

"That's just like my parents," said Shan. "My Muggle father ran a nursery, and my mother was good in Herbology."

"Are your parents still alive?" said Shan. That was almost immediately followed by, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."

"They're both alive," I said, "but I think I'm going to hear some sad news about yours."

"They're both dead," said Shan.

I said that I was sorry to hear that. We walked back to the Great Hall. Now I was wondering more than before about school being better than family for Shan and Su.

* * *

The effects of the Potions accident were wearing off in a series of excruciating nightmares. Late one night, I was sitting on a couch in the Ravenclaw common room. I was afraid to go to bed.

I awoke, observed the starry sky, and wondered why I was not freezing on a winter's night in Ravenclaw Tower. I noticed that someone had covered me with a blanket, but I was warmer than being covered by a blanket. There were two people under the blanket with me. Luna and Shan were sleeping with their heads on my shoulders.

Luna rested her head in Shan's lap and spread her legs so I could enter her.

"We will scale the heights and plumb the depths that only your crazy brain can follow," Luna told me. "Fly with me, prey of hungry thought, bird of wild patterns, storm of strangeness. You know the missing parts of my life. If we are torn apart, I will be gone."

Shan rested her head in Luna's lap and spread her legs so I could enter her.

"Come with me, and we will ride across the desolate plains of my soul," Shan told me. "We will weep the deepest tears and know joy unknown to those who only smile and laugh. If we are torn apart, I will be dust in a grave. Our souls will be gone."

I awoke, observed the starry sky, and wondered why I was not freezing on a winter's night in Ravenclaw Tower. I noticed that someone had covered me with a blanket, but I was warmer than being covered by a blanket. There were two people under the blanket with me. Luna and Shan were sleeping with their heads on my shoulders.

* * *

"This seat looks empty," said Su Li, dropping her books beside mine in sixth-year Charms. "The Hufflepuffs say you're absolutely horrid, so just watch yourself."

"It was a misunderstanding," I said.

The incident with the Hufflepuffs had occurred while Draco and I were recovering from the Potions accident and were randy instead of our normally calm and composed adolescent selves. I had been in the Great Hall studying ... not gawking at the girls as it looked ... studying. I was listening to and then participating in the conversation of two Hufflepuff girls who were talking about the next Hogsmeade weekend. I was trying to invite myself to go with them when they told me they would like my company, but they were meeting their mums. I said that was even better. Were their mums as cute as they were? True to their House, the girls left in a huff and a puff. Later after a Charms class, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, who usually sat with me in sixth-year Charms, asked me if I really tried to go out with the two girls' mums. He gave me the startling news that their mums were mature women.

"Don't you know?" I said. "Mature women are the best."

Mr. Finch-Fletchley looked skeptical.

"They're friendly and kind hearted," I continued, "and if they like you, they'll lavish affection on you. First you get their big sloppy wet kisses, and then you get their big sloppy wet ..."

"Argh," went Mr. Finch-Fletchley, hiding his head and covering his ears.

When the shock wore off and he was able to look at me again, I winked at him.

"Oh!" he said. "It was a joke. You were kidding. I'll go tell everyone."

Yes, I thought, tell everyone. Especially tell all the attractive mature women that I'm not interested.

Since then the Hufflepuffs, including Mr. Finch-Fletchley but not including Shan Li, had been avoiding me. Shan Li knew that I was joking. At any rate, there was an empty seat waiting for Shan's sister.

Su Li as a partner in sixth-year Charms worked out well. Su was competent, and we could play the point-gathering game since Flitwick assumed the fencing competition was spreading to the entire Li family. Su Li got into the spirit of the game. She went as far as pulling my hand down, jumping up and down in her seat, and waving frantically. Then she smirked at me when Flitwick called on her. I supposed the old goat thought she was cute.

"It seems Mr. Busch has the answer," slowly drawled Flitwick one day in sixth-year Charms.

The class turned to look at me. I had one hand in the air and the other hand holding a book in front of Su's face. She was waving frantically.

"I would call on Mr. Busch's partner," said Flitwick, "but I can't see who's there."

"I'm not speaking to you," growled Su, looking straight ahead.

* * *

"You're very lucky to have Barbara and Shelly to watch over you," said Shan.

I nodded. Draco and I had spent the entire Saturday in the lab doing variations on a procedure to test its robustness. Shan had wanted to see the lab and had spent the day reading and gossiping with Barbara and Shelly.

"They told me about the serious accident you had," she said. "That was the same time you offended some Hufflepuffs and started studying with Hermione Granger."

"Yes, weird behavior," I admitted. "But you said plants and animals are dangerous, too."

Shan cocked her head to give that some thought. She finally said, "There's something refined and concentrated about Potions. You take all the deadly stuff from plants and animals and mix it together. Besides, Barbara and Shelly told me that you and Draco were working in a dangerous field – psycho-something."

"Psycho-active," I said.

After finishing in the lab, the five of us had collapsed in the Slytherin common room, which was close. Draco showered and changed, he and the two girls cuddled for a while, and then they left for some place private. Not that I was jealous or anything.

I was alone with Shan. I sensed an Asian dragon coiling around me. The young, innocent, Hufflepuff Prefect breathed fire. "Did your father work in psycho-active potions? Did he have periods of strange behavior?"

Intelligent women are the bane of my existence, although I would not have it any other way.

"That was one reason it took me two years to settle down at Durmstrang," I replied. "I grew up thinking that men should occasionally act crazy for no reason."

"And now you're going to do the same thing," she said.

"Barbara and Shelly think that Draco's really brave," sneered Shan.

This was a side of Shan I hadn't seen. I wondered what was going on. I said, "Draco and I decided what we were going to do in Potions before Draco met Barbara and Shelly. We thought about it last summer. The Headmaster and Potions master approved it at the beginning of the term."

"You decided to be brave last summer," accused Shan, "even though it made your father a poor father."

"I didn't say he was a poor father, just occasionally strange. He gave it up."

Shan was glaring at me. All right, having an occasionally crazy father was stressful. I was wondering if Shan's disapproval was related to her parents' deaths. I decided not to ask. Perhaps she wanted me to ask. I didn't know.

"Draco and I are careful. We're not playing with the really dangerous potions. The Headmaster, the Potion master, Draco, and I exchanged letters about it last summer. We picked the safest potions where we thought some progress could be made."

"Oh, that makes it all right then," said Shan mockingly.

I was still hoping that Shan would tell me what was bothering her.

I said, "I'm sorry you're distressed about what I'm doing. Right now, I want to rinse off and change before dinner. I smell like a lab. Do you want to come with me, or would you rather do something else?"

"You want me to come with you while you take a shower?" she said with a smile.

"I didn't mean that," I stumbled out.

"You don't know what you're missing," she said.

I hadn't seen this side of Shan either.

In the shower I wondered which side of Shan I had seen. I wanted to believe she was flirting with me even though we were fighting. The gloomy side of me said she was teasing me because she was angry with me.

* * *

From the Gryffindor tower window, Hermione and Harry watched as Draco, Shan, Luna, Barbara, Shelly, and Hermann practiced defensive magic. The six were in a desolate, flat field near the castle.

"What are they doing?" asked Ron as he joined them.

"I think it's dueling and self-defense," said Hermione.

Draco and the girls were charming rocks and sending them on an L-shaped course towards Hermann. They were sending them at high speed with evasive maneuvers. Hermann wore a helmet. He took out a round of five with his right hand, and then he took out the next round of five with his left hand. After each round, he stepped closer giving himself less time to react. The L-shape kept Draco and the girls out of the line of spell fire.

Ron and Harry left, but Hermione kept watching. It was Luna's turn. Luna put on the helmet. Shan, Barbara, and Shelly waved their wands to dig up three clods of dirt, and then sent them towards Luna in a slow graceful arc. Luna's first two tries took out two clods, her third one missed, but her fourth try took out the third clod of dirt before it reached her. The four girls danced with glee. It must be some kind of general-purpose Blasting Curse, thought Hermione.

Draco joined Barbara, Shelly, and Shan. Four clumps of dirt arched towards Luna. She took them out, onetwothreefour, just like that. And how do you like your bright-eyed girl, Mr. Hogwarts?

Hermione watched Luna tuck her wand behind her ear, adjust a stick on her back, and assume a relaxed position. Hermann joined the exercise, and five clumps of dirt arched towards Luna. She whipped out her wand, onetwothreefour, just like that. Whack! She had twirled and taken out the fifth with her bokken. The crowd went wild.

At the periphery of Hermione's intelligence, a thought kept dancing. It was about the hallway confrontation with Hermann and the coming confrontation with Voldemort. It was about something that should be learned. If Hermione had been friends with Hermann or if she had been more like Padma, then Hermione would have talked about it with Hermann and possibly have come to some conclusion.

It's strange we're not friends, she thought, going off on a tangent. He listens to me, and I tell him more than I tell Ron and Harry. But he's an intellectual snob, he's a friend of the Malfoys, he's probably a Death Eater, and he gave Ron an unforgivable insult. Ron was cut to the quick, and Ron hates him. I'm a traitor for studying with him, but Transfiguration's great. We're pushing our own boundaries; I didn't know I could do those things; and I never felt this powerful before. I'll have to live with being a traitor.

The thought about confrontations, whatever it was, danced at the edge of her brilliant mind, and then it danced away. If she had been his friend or more like Padma, Hermione and Hermann would have wrangled with her idea and possibly have reached an insight about confrontations: the Brits thought in terms of duels, heroes and their friends, and powerful wizards; the Middle Europeans thought in terms of combat, teams, and tactics.

Their study-partner truce was too fragile to handle the topic, but if she had been able to talk to him about it, Hermione would have discovered that Hermann bitterly regretted his actions. He had treated a school kid confrontation like a combat scenario. He wished that he had stood with Draco and company like an honorable duelist. He wished he had not insulted Ron Weasley, whom he admired. He realized he could now never be friends with Hermione and her friends, and that was a great loss, even though they were Gryffindors.

Out on the field, Shan took her turn.

"Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to Charms we go," sang Hermione Granger to herself.

* * *

I was reading one morning in the Great Hall when a Hufflepuff girl sat down across the table from me.

"Good morning," I said, nodding at her.

She said her name was Terry Horton, and she knew I was Hermann Busch. For one wild moment I thought she was going to tell me that she had a lonely mum. I trotted out my social skills for some needed practice. We agreed it was a cold morning. She was fourth year, and her favorite subjects were Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies. I thought I was doing well with Terry Horton. We were trading information; she was smiling at me; the conversation was becoming more personal. My days as a lonely wizard were over.

She said, "Do you know Theo Nott?"

I admitted I knew him, although we were not close friends. We soon established that Terry knew who Theo was, Terry had not met Theo, but Terry would like to meet him. I said I would be glad to mention her name to Theo. At lunch I pointed out Terry to Theo. He looked interested. A few days later I saw them walking down the hall together.