Apparently, Harry's spitfire decision of going to Hagrid's instead of Slughorn's office was a much better plan of action than any of them had been expecting.
If a tad unorthodox. Felix Felices was a very strange potion, indeed, if these results were anything to go by.
Slughorn had heard about Aragog after Harry had passed him by the greenhouses, and decided to join him at the funeral, collecting some venom in the process. Then they buried the spider—Ron had shuddered at this part—and Slughorn and Hagrid drank several toasts in honor of, well, everything. Harry, ever responsible, didn't have a sip of alcohol, and instead waited until both professors were well on their way to sleep. Thoroughly drunk, after serenading Harry with a lovely little wizard shanty, Harry guilt-tripped Slughorn with the memory of his mother into giving him the sought after memory.
Then, Dumbledore had returned sometime that night, and they were able to go through the memory right then. Harry explained everything about Horcruxes—awful things, truly, who would ever want to split their soul? Let alone seven times—and how Dumbledore would be taking Harry along if he found another one.
"Wow," Ron said, so thoroughly enchanted by Harry's story he hadn't noticed his wand drifting off to the side and sending a cascade of snow down from the ceiling. "Wow. You're actually going to go with Dumbledore. . . and try and destroy. . . wow."
"Ron, you're making it snow," Hermione said, patiently redirecting his wand away from the ceiling. Until she saw Lavender Brown glaring daggers with very red, very wet eyes, and Hermione let go as if she'd been burned.
"Oh, yeah," Ron said, pleasantly surprised by the snow. "Sorry. . . looks like we've all got horrible dandruff now. . ."
He brushed some of the snow off Hermione's shoulder, and Amisty winced as Lavender immediately burst into tears.
Yikes.
Ron's face fell and he turned his back to Lavender, running a hand through his hair as his ears tinged scarlet.
"We split up," Ron said to Harry in an undertone. "Last night. When she saw me coming out of the dormitory with Hermione. Obviously she couldn't see you, so she thought it had just been the two of us. Amisty was behind me."
"Ah," Harry said, sounding more pleased than sympathetic. "Well—you don't mind it's over, do you?"
"No," Ron said, and Amisty pretended she didn't see Hermione smirk. "It was pretty bad while she was yelling, but at least I didn't have to finish it."
"Coward," Hermione said fondly. "Well, it was a bad night for romance all around. Ginny and Dean split up too, Harry."
His face stayed impassive, his voice level, but there was a spark behind his eyes that was hard to ignore. "How come?"
"Oh, something really silly. . ." Hermione said, giving him a meaningful look that he studiously ignored. "She said he was always trying to help her through the portrait hole, like she couldn't climb in herself. . . but they've been a bit rocky for ages."
Unsubtly—as per usual when it came to Harry Potter—he glanced over at Dean. A pleased sort of quirk to his lips had to be smoothed out very quickly.
"Of course," Hermione said, "this puts you in a bit of a dilemma, doesn't it?"
"What d'you mean?" Harry said too quickly.
Amisty smothered the urge to cackle. Not only would it be rude, but he was trying so hard not to make it obvious, even when everyone could tell he was head-over-heels for a certain ginger.
"The Quidditch team," Hermione said slowly, her own spark in her eyes. "If Ginny and Dean aren't speaking. . ."
"Oh—oh yeah," Harry said, flushing.
"Flitwick," Ron warned.
The Charms professor was heading toward them, but Amisty wasn't too concerned. Both her and Hermione had already turned their vinegar into wine, though Hermione's was burgundy and Amisty's had seemed to be more along the lines of rosé.
"Now, now, boys," Professor Flitwick scolded, but it was a tad less intimidating considering he was so small. "A little less talk, a little more action. . . Let me see you try. . ."
Harry's turned to ice. Ron's exploded.
Neither results were surprising, considering they hadn't been paying attention.
"Yes. . . for homework," Professor Flitwick came out from under cover of the table, plucking shards of glass out of his hat, "practice."
Amisty started laughing as soon as Flitwick was out of earshot, laughing harder at Harry's reproachful look.
They left Charms a bit later, reveling in their joint free period, when they came across Katie Bell in the Gryffindor common room. She was bright, smiling, surrounded by her seventh-year friends.
"Katie!" Hermione exclaimed. "You're back! Are you okay?"
"I'm really well!" Katie said, color back in her cheeks as she beamed. "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 this morning." Her smile faltered for a moment. "Leanne was just telling me about McLaggen and the last match, Harry. . ."
"Yeah," Harry rolled his eyes, he never really got over that, "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. . ."
Harry dropped his voice, the rest of Katie's friends gathering up their things as they prepared to head off to Transfiguration.
". . .that necklace. . . can you remember who gave it to you now?"
"No," Katie shook her head. "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?" Hermione asked.
"Well, I know I pushed open the door," Katie said, tilting her head back and forth as she thought, "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. . ."
And Katie hurried off, catching up quickly with her friends.
The four of them sat down at a table in the corner, sunlight bathing the wood in gold as they thought over their conversation.
"So it must have been a girl or a woman who gave Katie the necklace," Hermione said, "to be in the ladies' bathroom."
"Or someone who looked like a girl or a woman," Harry pointed out. "Don't forget, there was a cauldron full of Polyjuice Potion at Hogwarts. We know some of it got stolen. . ."
Harry paused. "I think I'm going to take another swig of Felix and have a go at the Room of Requirement again."
"That would be a complete waste of potion," Hermione said dryly, pulling out a copy of Spellman's Syllabary. "Luck can only get you so far, Harry. 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, and Hermione rolled her eyes, burying her nose in her book. "It'd be great to have a stock of it. . . Have a look in the book. . ."
"You know it's dangerous to take too much, right?" Amisty said as Harry pulled out the Prince's book. "As in, you could die if you took too much?"
"Blimey, it's seriously complicated," Harry said and Ron peered over his shoulder. In one ear and out the other with these two, always. "And it takes six months. . . You've got to let it stew. . ."
"Typical," Ron muttered.
"The dying part wasn't what put you off?" Amisty muttered under her breath, yet again falling on deaf ears. Wonder what that was like.
-=+=-
As April slipped into May, and the final Quidditch Match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw loomed ever nearer, nerves ran amok in the castle. Ginny seemed to be in a good mood, though. Her and Hazel kept telling Amisty's stories of how much the team had improved now that Katie and Ron were back. McLaggen being gone forever was a relief gone unspoken.
Hermione was a little peeved, but supportive nonetheless. It was just tiring to listen to the boys talk about nothing other than strategies and game plans and how important it was that they win.
To Amisty, it was an honor thing. But Gryffindor was a very prideful House, so that made sense.
According to Harry—the point system never made sense to Amisty, she was just there to cheer them on and take care of them when they cracked their skulls—Gryffindor needed to beat Ravenclaw by three-hundred points to win the Championship. (Which didn't make a whole lot of sense, considering they lost against Hufflepuff, but maybe it was a points thing.) If they won by less than three hundred points, they'd come in second, and if they lost by one hundred, they'd be third, and if they lost by more than one hundred, they'd be doomed.
Amisty still had yet to understand how that made a modicum of sense. Hermione had said to leave it.
Either way, tensions were high. Chants rang out in the hallways, intimidation tactics pulled at every corner, team members alternating between charming smiles or losing their lunch in the toilets between classes. Thankfully, no pins had yet to make the rounds. Though, there was a suspicious uptake in red and blue ribbons floating around in Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick's classrooms, respectively.
The amount of Calming Draughts Amisty had passed out—under Madam Pomfrey's orders, apparently the vomiting was getting to an all-time high—was getting ridiculous, but at least the game seemed to be lifting spirits. It was nice to focus on something that wasn't the paper.
It was a few days before the match when it happened.
Amisty was sitting in the courtyard, Hazel sprawled out on the grass with her head in Hunter's lap as Eli leaned on his shoulder. Jasmine and Amisty were sitting next to each other, not quite touching, but brushing elbows from time to time. It was idle chatter, really, attempts to keep Hazel's anxiety at bay as the game loomed overhead. Also a checkup on Hunter, who had yet to say if anything had happened after news of Fenrir Greyback, but the purple bags under his eyes were enough.
It was a lovely afternoon, perfectly innocent. Fireflies flitting about, the castle glowing as the sun fell just before dinner. Birds chirped in the trees, the House flags fluttering in the freeze and Hazel and Hunter exchanged quips and Eli mediated and Jasmine hummed a soothing little melody under her breath and Amisty—
Amisty was screaming, clutching her chest as pain—blinding white pain, she must be bleeding, why wasn't she bleeding?—scored across her skin and through her muscle and tearing and hurting and Merlin why wasn't she bleeding—
A flicker, in the corner of her vision. A bathroom, water gushing across the floor, blood seeping through, swirls of scarlet over cracked cobblestone. Platinum hair and pale hands and blood, so much blood—
"AMISTY!"
Hands were shaking her, gripped tight around her shoulders, brown eyes and blue eyes and fearful expressions swirling in front of her face as her breath shuddered in her lungs and everything hurt and hurt and hurt and she couldn't—
Her hands flew to her cheeks, scrabbling for blood she couldn't feel, wounds she couldn't see, tears streaming down her face in rivulets as sobs wrenched themselves out her throat.
Then, slowly, it stopped.
Like tiny stitches running along invisible seams. Tying up the blood and leaving Amisty shaking, shivering, staring at her bare skin as if it was supposed to be slashed to bits, not unmarred and freckled.
"Amisty," Eli's voice was tinged with desperation, as if he'd been trying to get her attention for a very long time. "Amisty, can you hear me?"
There was a ringing in her ears, almost muffling his words completely, but she managed to nod. Tears blurred her vision, flashes of crimson and platinum just out of sight.
"Hospital wing," Amisty croaked, her throat scratched and sore from screaming. "I need to get to the—"
Her legs buckled under her weight and she fell to her knees, rattling her spine. She whimpered.
Jasmine hovered, eyes wide, "Amisty, you shouldn't—"
"Please."
A silent conversation, words spoken through eyes and expressions, went on over her head. She didn't care. All she cared about was the fact that it felt like she was dying and if she felt like she was dying but she wasn't then—
Life Bond.
Ignoring the way every bone in her body protested, Amisty staggered to her feet, panic spurring her heart into a rapid staccato.
"I can't—" She was hyperventilating, but no matter how much air she gasped in she couldn't breathe. "I need to—he's hurt, I can't—please—"
"Who's hurt?" Jasmine asked, catching her by the waist as she lost her balance again. "Who's hurt, Amisty?"
More tears, cutting down her cheeks in shining lines of salt water. "Draco."
That seemed to spur them into action.
A pair of arms swung under her legs and shoulders, and she belatedly remembered to put her arms around their neck. Eli.
"I'll take her up," he said. "Jas, Hunter, can you find McGonagall? Tell her what happened?"
"Yeah."
"Of course."
Two sets of footsteps rush off. Amisty closed her eyes, dizzy with pain as everything spun around her.
"Hey." Eli jostled her. Gently. "Stay awake, Wolf Girl."
She smiled blearily, her lashes fluttering and then shooting open as something stung across her abdomen.
"Haze," Eli said, but now his voice was hazy and the ringing was back and Amisty really didn't know what was—"go find Hermione."
"On it."
Oh. Hermione was good. Hermione knew what this was, right? She'd know what was happening and why—
Amisty flinched, heart skipping in her chest as the stinging crescendoed and crashed over her. "Hurts."
"I know, Am," Eli said, and now he was running. She whimpered, holding on tighter as the world spun. "You'll be okay. Keep talking to me."
"I didn't know this would—" She hissed through her teeth, one leg jerking and Eli rushed to steady his grip. "I thought we'd lessened the effects."
"What?"
"Life Bond," Amisty said, squeezing her eyes shut and tucking her chin into his chest. "Draco and I—ow."
A flash, lighting quick but harsh as a blade, skidding down her spine. Whatever had happened, it wasn't good.
"Oh," Eli said, a tad breathless as the grass underfoot turned to stone. "Wow, Amisty, you've really outdone yourself."
She laughed but it was choked, her fingers curling into fists around the hood of Eli's cloak as another shudder wracked through her. "Hurry."
"I know."
-=+=-
A/N: Hello :) My birthday is tomorrow (today? depends when you read this) so you legally cannot kill me :) Thank you very much for reading, my apologies. Things do get "better" after this, at least for a chapter or two. Friendly reminder that WAR IS COMING, and sometimes it's less fluffy than we want it to be <3