Vagary

Chapter 14 Eye of the Beholder Harry

As Harry's gaze fixated upon Ophelia's retreating figure, a heavy silence enveloped the hospital wing. In the depths of his soul, he glimpsed a flicker of anguish reflected in her eyes, a poignant reminder of the pain she carried. Yet, consumed by his own self-absorption, he callously brushed aside the pint of guilt that lurked within, preferring to bury it beneath the weight of indifference.

"It seems like we've missed out since Christmas, George," Fred said, eyeing Harry.

"It seems we have," George said, doing the same.

"It's possible someone might want Slughorn killed," Harry said gladly changing the subject. "Dumbledore reckons Voldemort wanted Slughorn on his side. Slughorn was in hiding for a year before he came to Hogwarts. And..." He thought of the memory Dumbledore had not yet been able to extract from Slughorn. "And maybe Voldemort wants him out of the way, maybe he thinks he could be valuable to Dumbledore."

"But you said Slughorn had been planning to give that bottle to Dumbledore for Christmas," Ginny reminded him. "So the poisoner could just as easily have been after Dumbledore."

"Then the poisoner didn't know Slughorn very well," Hermione said, speaking for the first time in hours and sounding as though she had a bad head cold. "Anyone who knew Slughorn would have known there was a good chance he'd keep something that tasty for himself."

"Er-my-nee," Ron croaked unexpectedly from between them.

They all fell silent, watching him anxiously, but after muttering incomprehensibly for a moment he merely started snoring.

The dormitory doors flew open, making them all jump: Hagrid came striding toward them, his hair rain-flecked, his bearskin coat flapping behind him, a crossbow in his hand, leaving a trail of muddy dolphin-sized footprints all over the floor.

"Bin in the forest all day!" he panted. "Aragog's worse, I bin readin' to him--didn' get up ter dinner till jus' now an' then Professor Sprout told me abou' Ron! How is he?"

"Not bad," Harry said. "They say he'll be okay."

"No more than six visitors at a time!" Madam Pomfrey said, hurrying out of her office.

"Hagrid makes six," George pointed out.

"Oh... Miss Malfoy... yes..." Madam Pomfrey said, who seemed to have not seen Ophelia leave. To cover her confusion, she hurried off to clear up his muddy footprints with her wand.

"I don' believe this," Hagrid said hoarsely, shaking his great shaggy head as he stared down at Ron. "Jus' don' believe it... look at him lyin' there... who'd want ter hurt him, eh?"

"That's just what we were discussing," Harry said. "We don't know."

"Someone couldn' have a grudge against the Gryffindor Quidditch team, could they?" Hagrid said anxiously. "Firs' Katie, now Ron..."

"I can't see anyone trying to bump off a Quidditch team," George said.

"Wood might've done the Slytherins if he could've got away with it," Fred said fairly.

"Well, I don't think it's Quidditch, but I think there's a connection between the attacks," Hermione said quietly.

"How d'you work that out?" Fred asked.

"Well, for one thing, they both ought to have been fatal and weren't, although that was pure luck. And for another, neither the poison nor the necklace seems to have reached the person who was supposed to be killed. Of course," she added broodingly, "that makes the person behind this even more dangerous in a way, because they don't seem to care how many people they finish off before they actually reach their victim."