I blink awake, thoroughly confused. My vision is blurred, although that's because I haven't got my glasses on. Groping blindly for them, I notice that my necklace is gone as well. When I finally find them, I slip the brown tortoiseshell frames up my nose. My vision comes sharply into focus, and I see that Madam Pomphrey stands over me, looking concerned.
"Madam Pomphrey!" I gasp, then flinch and drop my voice as it hurts my ears. "What happened? Why am I here? I had the most crazy dream . . . "
"I'm afraid that is wasn't a dream Miss Potter. When you and your friends flew that car to Hogwarts, you crashed into the Whomping Willow. You got hurt, and passed out from loss of blood. It's a wonder you remained conscious that long; you hit your head as well," Madam Pomphrey reminds me.
"Is that why my head hurts? Everything sounds twice as loud as it normally does," I say in a loud whisper.
"You have a concussion, dear. Its nothing serious, but I can't heal it with magic. If youre feeling alright, why don't you go tell your brother and your friends that you're okay. They've been outside the hospital wing since five o'clock in the morning."
"Oh," I say softly. "What about Fred? I remember his eyes, then nothing else."
"Mr Weasley and his twin brought you here, but you collapsed halfway there."
"Oh," I say again.
Fred brought me here. He really is sweet to do that, I think to myself, then shake my head to clear it, causing a flare of sharp pain. What am I thinking? I don't like Fred like that!
Bidding Madam Pomphrey goodbye, I leave the hospital wing. But I haven't even taken two steps when I'm attacked by several hugs all at once. I recognise Hermione's bushy hair, my brother's eyes, and several redheads who turn out to be Ginny, George, Ron, and Fred.
Hermione and Ginny are near tears, demanding over and over if I'm alright. Harry, Ron, George, and Fred join them, until the voices cause a flare of pain in my head, which still hurts a bit. I raise my hand for silence.
"I'm okay, really, but please, be quieter, my head still hurts," I tell the six of them. They result to demanding if I'm okay, but this time in frantic whispers. "Enough, I promise I'm okay. Now let's go to breakfast."
We all enter the Great Hall just in time for the mail to arrive. Just when we sit down, a ball of feathers plumments from the air and lands on Ron's head.
"Errol!" he exclaims, snatching up the limp owl.
His face drains of colour as he looks at the bright red envelope from his mother. Its a Howler. I know what they do, so I cover my ears, but someone grabs my arm and pulls me from the Great Hall as Ron tears open the Howler.
It immediatly begins to shriek at him in his mother's voice. I cover my ears and the person pulls me into them. Recognizing the scent of smoke and something sweet, I bury my face into Fred's jacket and try to ignore the throbbing in my head. After several minutes, I look up and uncover my ears.
"Is it done?" I whisper.
Fred nods and hugs me close.
"Are you sure you're alright, love?" he asks.
I nod weakly into his chest. He kisses me on the top of my head, and I blush as he says, "Later, Rory."
~~~~~~~~~~
Herbology is our first class. And I'm stuck standing next to Draco. Not that I'm complaining. Hermione keeps giving me and him funny looks, which makes me blush. I only half listen to Professor Sprout's introduction to Mandrakes. Hermione answers most of her questions, as usual sounding as though she swallowed the textbook.
"Rory?" a whisper sounds suddenly to my right.
It's Draco. I turn my eyes to him. His own blue eyes are filled with concern as he peers at my over his plant pot. "Are you okay?"
"My head hurts," I whisper back, glancing warily around to be sure no one sees the two of us. "But only when there's loud noises."
He nods, still looking a bit concerned, and I blush a bit.
"Everyone grab a pair of earmuffs," Professor Sprout says, finishing her !andrake introduction.
I pick up a pair and snap them on. They block out all the noise. Then the Herbology teacher pulls a Madrake from it's pot. It honestly looks like an ugly baby. Its clearly screaming and bawling as loud as it can. A moment later, Neville slides to the floor, unconscious.
Professor Sprout repots the Mandrake and has us take our earmuffs off, saying, "And that is why you must correctly wear your earmuffs. The cry of a Mandrake isn't fatal yet, but it'll knock you out for several hours. Now, earmuffs on. It's time to repot these Mandrakes!"
I snap mine on, but feel hands press over them, making sure they're on correctly. I look up to see Draco with his hands pressed over my earmuffs. His usually pale cheeks blush and his bright blue eyes dart away, mumbling something that to me looks like, "I think its okay now . . . "
I blush as well, looking down at my work.
~~~~~~~~~~
After Herbology, a first year approaches Harry and I and starts to talk quickly, "Hi, I'm Colin Creevey, I'm a Gryffindor first year. Do you two mind if I take a picture? You know, to prove I met you? The famous Potter twins! And do you think you could sign it?!"
"Signed photos?" a voice says loudly. "You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"
It's Draco, and somehow I know he's not talking to me, but to Harry, who protests, flushing in anger.
"Everybody line up!" Draco roars over the crowd's bustle. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"
"I am not!" Harry snaps irritably.
"You're just jealous!" Colin pipes up.
"Jealous!?" Draco spits, not shouting anymore; everyone's listening in now. "Of a scar? Why would I want a nasty scar on my forehead? It doesn't make me that special, does it? Getting my head cut open?"
Anger flares within me. Whether I think he's attractive or not, nobody messes with my friends and family. I march up to him and open my mouth to snap at him, "You think you're better than everyone else just because of your name, don't you? Because you've got more money than other people - "
A hand touches my shoulder. Lockhart. He's already got my brother clamped to his side. Harry looks like he wants to murder the man, and honestly I feel like I want to as well. He's a lunatic.
"What's going on?" he asks. "The Potter twins are giving out signed photos?"
He throws an arm around both Harry and I, then grins and gestures for Colin to take a picture. I struggle to get away, and the first year boy snaps the picture. The bell rings, saving us from even more embarrassment, and the crowd slowly disperses. Unfortunately, I have Defence Against the Dark Arts, so I've still got to face Lockhart. I give Draco an angry glare, and he cringes, then I run to class.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Me," Lockhart says, pointing at one of the many pictures of himself plastered to the wall. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
He waits for a laugh, but gets only a few annoyed smiles. Hermione turns to me and whispers, "Oh, isn't he amazing?"
I look at her like she's insane and say, "He's bloody insane, that's what."
Lockhart ends up giving us a quiz about stupid things mentioned in his books, and then collects it a half an hour later.
"Tut, tut - hardly any of you knew that my favourite colour is lilac . . . but Miss Granger did," Lockhart says, examining Hermione's paper. "Full marks in fact. Where are you, Miss Granger? Stand up, please."
Hermione stands up, trembling.
"Excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor!" he says.
Hermione blushes and sits back down. Lockhart looks at another paper, which has handwriting I recognize as my own.
"Now, who is this? Miss Potter. Where are you? Stand up please," he asks.
I stand up, a complete deadpan look on my face.
"Miss Potter, you did not do your reading in advance. You seem to know nothing about me. I also don't appreciate this picture you drew of me, either."
~~~~~~~~~~
Later in the class, Lockhart reveals a cage full of freshly caught Cornish Pixies. They're electric blue and about eight inches high, with shrill voices that make my head twinge with pain. They shake and rattle the cage when he removes the covering.
"Let's see what you make of them!" Lockhart exclaims, pulling open the cage.
The pixies shoot out, giggling with glee.
They wreak absolute havoc. Ripping out book pages, pulling on people's robes. A few of them seize Neville by the ears, lift him up, and then hang him in the chandelier. Still more of them upend wastepaper baskets, smash ink bottles, and a several tug at my hair as I swing a book randomly, hoping to hit one or two.
"Come now, round them up!" Lockhart says, pulling out his wand. "Peskipicksi Pesternomi!"
A pixie grabs his wand and throws it out a broken window. Lockhart's eyes go wide. Someone flees the room, and soon its just Harry, Ron, Nevile, Hermione, Lockhart and I. Lockhart looks at us, then says, "I'll ask you five to nip the rest of them back in their cage."
Then he runs out of the room. I grab an unbroken ink bottle and anticipate where a pixie is going to fly, then throw the bottle and knock it from the air. I catch it and stuff it in the cage.
"Immobulous!" Hermione shouts, and the pixies freeze in the air. Harry and Ron help her shove them into the cage while I use the combined power of my wand and my necklace to get Neville down from the chandelier.
~~~~~~~~~~
We head to lunch late, Harry, Ron and I insulting Lockhart with all we've got. Hermione halfheartedly defends him, but there's no convincing the three of us.
"By the way, Rory, what did you draw of him?" Ron asks with a mouthful of his lunch.
"Oh," I giggle, my whole mood changing at once. "It was rather unpretty. I made his eyes bulging and his nose too big. I gave him beaver teeth, too, I think."
The boys guffaw, but Hermione gives me a disapproving look as she hurries herself into one of Lockhart's books.