Magic? || Years 5-7

Bitter News and Felix Felicis: Year 6

Hagrid

He had to be joking.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Hermione said, passing it off to Ron.

Horrified, and rightly so, Ron spluttered, "He's mental! That thing told its mates to eat us! Told them to help themselves! And now Hagrid expects us to go down there and cry over its horrible hairy body!"

"It's not just that," Hermione said, pressing her palms to her eyes. "He's asking us to leave the castle at night and he knows security's a million times tighter and how much trouble we'd be in if we were caught."

"We've been down to see him by night before," Harry said fairly.

"Yes, but for something like this?" Hermione said, incredulous. "We've risked a lot to help Hagrid out, but after all—Aragog's dead. If it were a question of saving him—"

"—I'd want to go even less," Ron cut in, sharp and biting, and Amisty couldn't help but agree. Aragog hadn't left the most pleasant of impressions, considering it wasn't the most polite of manners to leave your guests to be eaten alive. "You didn't meet him, Hermione. Believe me, being dead will have improved him a lot."

The corner of Harry's lips turned down. He stared at the parchment, glasses shielding his eyes from view.

"Harry, you can't be thinking of going," Hermione said. "It's such a pointless thing to get detention for."

He sighed, scrubbing a hand across the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, I know. I s'pose Hagrid'll have to bury Aragog without us."

Relieved and doing a poor job at hiding it, Hermione said, "Yes, he will. Look, Potions will be almost empty this afternoon, with us all off doing our tests. . . Try and soften Slughorn up a bit then!"

"Fifty-seventh time lucky, you think?" Harry dead-panned.

"Lucky," Ron said, his face lighting up. "Harry, that's it—get lucky!"

Bewildered, Harry squinted at him. "What d'you mean?"

"Use your lucky potion!"

"Ron, that's—that's it!" Hermione said, breaking out into a grin. "Of course! Why didn't I think of it?"

Harry paused. Blinked slowly. Glanced down at Hagrid's note and back up at them "Felix Felicis? I dunno. . . I was sort of saving it. . ."

"For what?" Amisty demanded. "You can't use it for any of your games or tests or anything."

"What on earth is more important than this memory, Harry," Hermione said.

A dreamy, lost expression fluttered over Harry's face for a moment. His lips twitched up, eyes glazed over as his ears turned pink. Amisty rolled her eyes, flicking his nose.

"Harry?" Hermione said, exasperated. "Are you still with us?"

"Wha—?" He batted Amisty's hand down, but there was no venom behind his glare. "Yeah, of course. Well. . . okay. If I can't get Slughorn to talk this afternoon, I'll take some Felix and have another go this evening."

"That's decided, them," Hermione said, hopping up and turning on one foot, perfectly balanced. Destination. . . determination. . . deliberation. . ."

"Oh, stop that," Ron begged, looking a tad green in the face. "I feel sick enough as it is—quick, hide me!"

"It isn't Lavender!" Hermione said, throwing up her hands as two girls entered the courtyard and Ron dove for cover.

"Cool," Ron said, peering over her shoulder just to make sure. "Blimey, they don't look happy, do they?"