Harry Potter and the Time of Good Intentions by Barb (Part 2 of 2)


Chapter Twelve

All Through The Night


After he'd kissed Ginny goodbye, Harry went from the caretaker's office directly to Slytherin House to see Jamie and Simon so they would know he was all right; Simon looked like he would rather have seen Stuart walk into the common room. But while she'd hugged the stuffing out of him, Jamie whispered to him that he'd been out of his head wondering what had happened to Harry, but as he was now out of his head over Stu, seeing Harry wasn't as comforting as it would be otherwise. Of course, Jamie cried over Ginny; she'd become very good friends with her, and she was still officially missing, and now her brother, too. Harry wished he could tell her the truth, but Dumbledore had said that no one else could know other than Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, after there had been a funeral.

"You know," she said, her head on Harry's shoulder as he held her, "if Draco and I didn't work out, and if Cho Chang didn't want to stay with him...I mean, Ron Weasley is rather dishy, and he seemed to fancy me..."

He laughed softly, then kissed her on the forehead. "Better not let Draco hear you talk that way." She smiled grimly; Harry ached for her, mourning two people who weren't really dead, and he couldn't tell her anything.

Harry had had to go see Professors McGonagall and Black, to somehow explain to them how he'd lost Ginny in the storm and accidentally walked into the changing rooms, spending the night there. They nodded and accepted his story; he was appropriately distraught over not having been able to get Ginny back to the castle. (When Ginny had returned to the Gryffindor common room and she and Ron got the owl from Dumbledore, they had left straightaway and she never got around to giving Madam Pomfrey's note to Sirius.) Harry didn't mention the creature in the lake to his godfather or the headmistress.

Later, he joined the other fifth, sixth and seventh years on the grounds, continuing the search for Ron and Ginny. It was frigid, and their breaths formed small white clouds before their mouths. He used his wand to clear snow out of the way, knowing that of course they would find no bodies. When he was near the edge of the lake, he was understandably apprehensive, but no tentacles came above the surface, grasping students and pulling them down into the dark depths. He slogged through the mud with Draco; he'd have preferred walking in snow; it was at least clean. Once they'd cleared a path, it quickly became a muddy mess.

He brandished his wand lazily at the ground near the lakeshore; the snow melted and the liquid sank into the magically-warmed ground, revealing a bag that appeared to be made of water weed, tatted in a complicated pattern, and containing a large dark object. His gift from the merpeople! He'd forgotten about it; it would have been unwieldy, at any rate, to carry it and Ginny through the blizzard. As soon as he was out of the lake, he'd dropped it and forgotten it. He picked it up now and quickly stuffed it under his robes; Draco watched, brow furrowed.

"It's mine," he whispered to him, looking around for the other students and teachers who were searching. "It was a gift. From the merpeople."

"What is it?"

Harry shook his head. "Dunno," he said softly, trying to move his lips as little as possible. "I haven't had a chance to look at it. I'm going to take it back to the castle now; it's heavy. Cover for me."

Draco nodded; just then, Liam Quirke strode over to them, wearing fingerless gloves and tall green Wellingtons that made loud squelching noises in the mud. His brown hair stood up on his bare head, as though he'd been running his fingers through it in frustration. The Head Boy badge pinned to his cloak was spattered and soiled, as was the hem of his cloak; he had bags under his eyes and looked as though he hadn't slept.

"How are you two doing? Any sign of them yet? Cho's in a right state." Cho Chang was about thirty feet away, also clearing snow and slogging through the mud; the Head Girl's nose was red, but Harry didn't think it was from the cold. She sometimes looked like she was wiping tears from her face. Perhaps she really did care for Ron, he thought.

But now that Liam was standing right here, Harry bent over, holding his stomach (which allowed him to grasp the gift under his robes) and he puffed up his cheeks, hoping he looked ill, or like he was going to spew, or something. Draco quickly picked up on this, moving between him and the Head Boy.