─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The pair continued to eat their breakfast. Clara tried her best to drown out the stares and whispers with the eggs in front of her, but she was extremely aware of every pair of eyes that looked down on her.
It seemed as though Harry was not at all impacted by the others in the Great Hall. He smiled and discussed his adventure with Slughorn with Ron and Hermione. Having first cast the Muffliato spell upon those nearest them, the four of them, plus Luna, listened intently to Harry recall his encounter with Slughorn and Hagrid two nights earlier. They were satisfyingly impressed by the way he had wheedled the memory out of Slughorn.
"Wow," said Ron, when Harry had finally finished telling them everything; Ron was waving his wand very vaguely in the direction of the ceiling without paying the slightest bit of attention to what he was doing. "Wow. You're actually going to go with Dumbledore. . . and try and destroy . . . wow."
"Ron, you're making it snow," said Hermione patiently, grabbing his wrist and redirecting his wand away from the ceiling from which, sure enough, large white flakes had started to fall. Lavender Brown, Clara noticed, glared at Hermione from a neighboring table through very red eyes, and Hermione immediately let go of Ron's arm. A slight blush crept across the Gryffindor girl's cheeks.
"Oh yeah," said Ron, looking down at his shoulders in vague surprise. "Sorry . . . looks like we've all got horrible dandruff now. . . ." He brushed some of the fake snow off Hermione's shoulder, making her blush increase. Lavender burst into tears. Ron looked immensely guilty and turned his back on her. "We split up," he told Harry out of the corner of his mouth. "When she saw me coming out of the dormitory with Hermione. Obviously she couldn't see you and Clara, so she thought it had just been the two of us."
"Well, it was a bad week for romance all around." muttered Clara.
"What?" said Harry turning his head towards her.
"Er- nothing. Just said finally, you know? It's a good thing, you'll be happier now, Ron."
Ron nodded happily, that familiar golden retriever smile playing on his lips. His eyes drifted quickly towards Hermione, who had taken a great interest in the apple slices on her plate.
There was silence between the group until Hermione cried, "Katie! You're back! Are you okay?"
Harry stared: It was indeed Katie Bell, looking completely healthy and surrounded by her jubilant friends. "I'm really well!" she said happily. "They let me out of St.Mungo's on Monday, I had a couple of days at home with Mum and Dad and then came back here this morning. Leanne was just telling me about McLaggen and the last match, Harry. . . ."
"Yeah," said Harry, "well, now you're back and Ron's fit, we'll have a decent chance of thrashing Ravenclaw, which means we could still be in the running for the Cup. Listen, Katie. . . that necklace . . . can you remember who gave it to you now?"
"No," said Katie, shaking her head ruefully. "Everyone's been asking me, but I haven't got a clue. The last thing I remember was walking into the ladies' in the Three Broomsticks."
"You definitely went into the bathroom, then?" said Hermione. "Well, I know I pushed open the door," said Katie, "so I suppose whoever Imperiused me was standing just behind it. After that, my memory's a blank until about two weeks ago in St. Mungo's. Listen, I'd better go, I wouldn't put it past McGonagall to give me lines even if it is my first day back. . . ."
She caught up her bag and books and hurried after her friends, leaving the group to ponder this information.
"So it must have been a girl or a woman who gave Katie the necklace," said Clara, "to be in the ladies' bathroom."
"Or someone who looked like a girl or a woman," said Harry. "Don't forget, there was a cauldron full of Polyjuice Potion at Hogwarts. We know some of it got stolen. . . ."
"I think I'm going to take another swig of Felix," said Harry after a moment, "and have a go at the Room of Requirement again."
"That would be a complete waste of potion," said Hermione flatly, putting down the copy of Spellman's Syllabary she had just taken out of her bag.
"Luck can only get you so far, Harry." said Clara, "The situation with Slughorn was different; you always had the ability to persuade him, you just needed to tweak the circumstances a bit. Luck isn't enough to get you through a powerful enchantment, though. Don't go wasting the rest of that potion! You'll need all the luck you can get if Dumbledore takes you along with him . . ."
"Couldn't we make some more?" Ron asked Harry, ignoring Hermione and Clara. "It'd be great to have a stock of it. . . .Have a look in the book . . ."
Harry pulled his copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and looked up Felix Felicis.
"Blimey, it's seriously complicated," he said, running an eye down the list of ingredients. "And it takes six months . . .You've got to let it stew. . . ."
"Typical," said Ron.
"Well, figure something else out. It wasn't a good plan anyway." said Hermione, glaring at the book in Harry's hands.
Harry coughed slightly and glanced at Clara. "Well, there is one more option..."
"No!" cried Clara.
She and Harry were speed-walking down the hallway, both once again upset with each other. The students in the hallway immediately rushed away from Clara's path as she made her way to Charms.
"Clara, please! Just hear me out!" said Harry. Clara spun around on her heel and stopped. Harry, surprised by this action, almost ran straight into her. "Woah, okay. He's the only piece of this puzzle we don't know, and you're the only one he might actually talk to!"
"I am not going to talk to him. I can't believe you're even asking me this after what happened."
"Wait, what? What happened?"
"He paid that kid to expose our relationship! Don't tell me you forgot." scoffed Clara.
"You never told me that." said Harry, his jaw clenched in anger.
"I thought I did, it must've slipped-"
"I'm going to kill him."
Harry walked away from Clara, leaving her with a consuming feeling of dread. "Harry, wait!" she called after him. He did not stop nor respond to her request.
"Fuck!" she shouted. The students around her stared at her, looking quite frightened. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it was rude to stare?"
Their looks were diminished and Clara tore off in the direction that Harry had gone. This was even worse than she had expected the day to go.
There was a loud bang from a bathroom as Clara went on her search for Harry. Her head whipped around and she turned to look at the bathroom. The door was shut completely, but still, she thought, he might be there. Her hand pushed the door open quietly, which was a direct contrast to the explosion of noise coming from inside the bathroom.
A curse flew towards Clara and she ducked quickly, barely missing it. Harry attempted a Leg-Locker Curse that backfired off the wall behind the ear of another student: Draco.
It smashed the cistern beneath Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured everywhere and Harry slipped as Malfoy, his face contorted, cried, "Cruci —"
"SECTUMSEMPRA!" bellowed Harry from the floor, waving his wand wildly. Blood spurted from Malfoy's face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand.
"No —" gasped Harry.
A scream escaped Clara's lips and she ran to Draco, who was laying limply on the floor. Slipping and staggering, Harry got to his feet and plunged toward Malfoy and Clara. Draco's face was now shining scarlet, his white hands scrabbling at his blood-soaked chest. "No — I didn't —" said Harry. He looked to Clara, who was crying and clutching Draco's hand tightly.
"Harry, we need to get help." sniffed Clara. Harry nodded quickly but did not move. Draco was shaking uncontrollably in a pool of his own blood, which also stained Clara and Harry's hands.
Moaning Myrtle let out a deafening scream: "MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!"
The door banged open behind Clara and she looked up, terrified: Snape had burst into the room, his face livid. Pushing Harry roughly aside, he knelt over Malfoy, drew his wand, and traced it over the deep wounds Harry's curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like song. The flow of blood seemed to ease; Snape wiped the residue from Malfoy's face and repeated his spell. Now the wounds seemed to be knitting. Harry was still watching, seemingly horrified by what he had done. Clara was still kneeling beside Draco, terrified of the entire situation. When Snape had performed his counter curse for the third time, he and Harry half-lifted Malfoy into a standing position.
"You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that. . . . Come. . . ." He supported Malfoy across the bathroom, turning at the door to say in a voice of cold fury, "And you two . . . You wait here for me."