Chapter 19 The Bamboo War
Midway through charms class as Harry was watching out the window for the smoke of the approaching train, a piece of parchment floated in front of his face.
Professor Hagrid,
Please allow Harry Potter to accompany you to Hogsmeade to meet the train.
He has my permission to leave Charms class.
Professor Flitwick
Harry grasped the paper and looked at Professor Flitwick. The little Professor and all of the students were staring at him.
“I expect you and Hermione in my office at seven PM this evening” Flitwick said curtly. She has Charms work to make up because she has been absent and you have Charms work to make up because your mind has been absent.”
“Sir?” Harry said in confusion.
“You haven’t been paying any attention! You couldn’t cast a decent Anti-Termite Charm to save your house!” Flitwick snapped. “There’s no point in you being here if you can’t pay attention. Go meet the train. Give her a kiss. But be in my office at seven PM and be ready to focus on Insect Repelling Charms. Go. Hurry. Professor Hagrid will be leaving soon.”
The class snickered and joked as Harry left the Charms classroom.
“May I go meet the train with Harry?” Seamus asked. “There might be some other girls gettin’ off and they’ll need kissin’ too.”
“Sit down Mr. Finnegan,” Professor Flitwick ordered. “And explain the difference between the Fly Repelling Charm versus the Mosquito Repelling Charm.”
Harry dashed out of the castle and caught up with Hagrid as he was climbing onto a wagon that was drawn by two thestrals.
Midway to the railway station, Harry took the reins while Hagrid pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his eyes.
“Sorry Harry,” Hagrid said blowing his nose. “Thinkin’ of you an ‘ermione got me to thinkin’ of Olympe. There was folks that didn’t like ‘er ‘cause she was half-giant like me. Just like there’s folks that don’t like ‘ermione ‘cause she’s Muggle-born. I’ll never meet another woman like Olympe. I sure ‘ope you never ‘ave to say good-bye to your sweet little ‘ermione the way I had to say good-bye to my Olympe.”
As Hagrid cried some more, an unpleasant thought occurred to Harry: Since Hermione and I are magically joined by a Sympathetic Bond, what would happen to her if I died?
On the following evening Ron offered Harry a cupcake as they walked from the Great Hall to Gryffindor Tower after dinner. Harry was deep in thought, Monday night it had been Charms with Professor Flitwick, Tuesday night and Thursday night Hermione had Nursing duty, Wednesday night was S.P.E.W. and they needed to practice Sympathetic Defensive spells, Friday night they would travel to London and Saturday night to the mine. When was he going to get a chance to just be alone with her?
“I don’t think one cupcake will make you fat Harry,” Ron said.
Harry realized he had carried the cupcake all of the way to their bedroom and he hadn’t said a word to Ron the whole way. He didn’t even know if Ron had been talking to him or not.
“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly as he ate. “I’m worried about this trip to the mine. I don’t think it’s a trap. Dobby wouldn’t set us up. But it could be dangerous. There might be security at the mine.”
“You and Hermione have a lot on your minds,” Ron said sympathetically. “I heard you whispering about Christmas. What are you two doing for the Holidays? Are you both staying at Hogwarts?”
“No, we’ll be going to Canada,” Harry answered with a smile.
“Why are you going to Canada?” Ron asked.
“To be with her parents,” Harry said.
Then he suddenly realized he had revealed the secret that provided the only protection that Hermione’s parents had.
“Her parents?? Aren’t they dead?” Ron asked incredulously.
“No, they’re alive,” Harry said.
Fear welled up in Harry. What am I doing? Ron will tell his whole family! Someone will let it leak. It could endanger Hermione’s parents again! What am I thinking??
“Ron, you mustn’t tell anyone!” Harry said urgently. “Not Ginny! Not even your mother! Not even if it hurts you to see them cry. It could endanger Hermione’s parents!”
“That’s the Ministerial Secret that you and Hermione couldn’t tell me about isn’t it?” Ron deduced.
“Yes that’s it,” Harry confirmed.
Why do I keep talking? Why can’t I tell Ron a lie?
“They survived the battle! But the Ministry of Magic faked their deaths to protect them, right?” Ron said in wonder.
“Yes, but you mustn’t tell anyone,” Harry said nervously. “Why am I telling you this secret? Jack Granger killed Theodore Nott with his machine gun. Nott’s relatives might go after them!”
“I’m sorry Harry!” Ron said. “I just wanted to test the Veritaserum.”
“You ASSHOLE!” Harry snapped. “Don’t you trust me to nick the right potion?”
“I trust YOU!” Ron said defensively. “But Snape might have made up a vial of Fake Veritaserum!”
“I’m VERY angry with you Ron!” Harry said shaking. “You MUST keep this secret!”
“I’m sorry Harry!” Ron said again. “I didn’t know you would tell me something important like that! I just wanted to know what you had got me for Christmas. Don’t be angry. I’ll tell you my secret! Then we’ll be even.”
“I don’t see how that…”
“The Ministry uses the dragons to guard things,” Ron said nervously. “There’s a castle-like building in the Highland Preserve. It’s an enchanted prison a thousand years old that’s lined with silver. They say it holds an evil wizard as bad as You-Know-Who.”
Ron looked frightened.
“If it wasn’t for that bloody alarm I’d hex you!” Harry said.
Ron handed Harry a bamboo wand and shut his eyes.
“Oh damn it Ron!” Harry said throwing down the bamboo wand. “I’m glad that you know Hermione’s parents are alive. But it’s just one more thing to worry about.”
Harry and Ron didn’t speak to each other for the rest of the evening.
At the S.P.E.W. meeting, Cho and the foraging committee gave Harry some blankets that had stains and appeared to be cast off.
“If the elves get caught with blankets that look new, it could cause trouble,” Cho said.
They also had some bags of rice and beans and flour. And some bottles of Vitamin Elixir and various Potions for Tooth Decay, Stomach Aches and Fever. The Elixir and Potions were past the expiration dates, but not by much.
Harry would be going to London on Friday evening with Hermione and Susan on the grounds that he was so irritable when Hermione was away that no one could stand him.
Kingsley Shacklebolt was also going. He would get them to Cornwall on Saturday evening. He had borrowed a Trunk from Mad-Eye Moody that could hold all of the relief supplies and have room enough to spare for Dobby.
They all practiced wandless summoning for a few minutes. Then they practiced the Stunning Spell, the Petrifying Charm and the Tripping Jinx. Then Harry and Hermione held hands, crossed their wands and tried some Sympathetic Magic. Hermione used the Shield Charm to protect both of them while Harry fired offensive spells at the other students. The two of them together could defeat up to six attackers.
The following evening Harry went to the library to get books about ancient talismans, archeological expeditions and the search for the Gold Serpent Staff. This would be the best way to get rid of Lord Voldemort, but wizards had been searching for the Staff for thousands of years. What chance did Harry and Hermione have? Plus there was the workload. Hermione was already chronically sleep deprived this term so Harry would have to do the book research himself. He wasn’t enthusiastic about that prospect.
On Friday evening Harry, Hermione, Susan Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt shared a compartment on the daily train from Hogsmeade to London. Hermione spent the first part of the trip sleeping with her head on Harry’s lap. That was a bit of a shame since the highlands were the prettiest part of the trip, especially with the sun setting. They ate in the dining car while rolling through the Tweed Valley. The train reached King’s Cross station a few minutes past eleven and they were met by Augustus Pye, the young healer in charge of the special project. Somehow all five of them squeezed into his rust colored Fiat with their luggage and the trunk of relief supplies. This was quite an achievement because the car wasn’t at all enchanted and was as small on the inside as it appeared on the outside. But Augustus was able to deliver them to the Leaky Cauldron.
Harry didn’t fancy sitting in the Tea Room at St. Mungo’s Hospital all day and was hoping he would be able to wander around Diagon Alley on Saturday. But the young and somewhat unorthodox Dr. Pye had other ideas for Harry.
“I hear that Harry can take care of himself in a tight situation,” Augustus said over breakfast. “We should bring him into the project. I just don’t like all this secrecy stuff, and Harry will find out about the project soon anyway. He could be helpful.”
“I don’t know a thing about Healing Spells,” Harry admitted. “Are you sure you want me to stick around?”
“You can read and write. Those are two very important skills,” Augustus said. “And you know how to survive in combat. Your perspective might be valuable for this project.”
“I thought it was a Healing Project,” Harry said. “What’s combat got to do with it?”
“We’re trying to help Dumbledore find a permanent Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor,” Susan said cheerfully. “And you’re good at that subject.”
“We’re trying to help Gilderoy Lockhart resume a normal life,” Hermione said.
“As you know Mr. Lockhart’s memory was damaged by a spell that went bad,” Augustus began. “It seems to be impossible to restore his memory. There are some serious mental blocks. So we’re trying to construct a memory for him based on the autobiographical information available in his books.”
“You want to help Lockhart become the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor by filling his brain with the stuff in his books?” Harry said in disbelief.
“That about sums it up,” Augustus said cheerfully.
“It was a lucky break for me that Lockhart’s Memory Charm backfired!” Harry stated. “He was trying to make Ron and me forget what he had told us. He’s got no talent for fighting the Dark Arts! All of the stuff in his books was done by other wizards! Those books are fiction!”
“He’s been hospitalized for more than three years Harry! Isn’t it time to forgive him and help him recover?” Hermione argued.
“If you want to help him out by filling his brain with fiction, why not tell him he’s a Muggle bricklayer or a janitor so he can get a nice safe job and live happily ever after?” Harry countered.
“It’s inevitable that an artificial memory is going to include some factual errors and have gaps in coverage,” Augustus said. “But at least the persona described in Lockhart’s books is his own creation. We’re not writing the fiction.”
“Just toning it down a little bit so he doesn’t kill himself,” Hermione added. “But we can’t turn him into a happy Muggle bricklayer. That would be unethical. He’s a wizard.”
“Most people in the wizarding community think the stories in Lockhart’s books are true, even if it is a bit unbelievable that one person could do all of that and survive,” Augustus stated. “If he’s to reenter our society he needs to be fairly similar to the person that people think he is.”
“But he’s a git!” Harry exclaimed. “How can he possibly become a real fighter of the Dark Arts?”
“Someone insisted that we add some background material to his memory,” Susan said while looking at Hermione. “Even if that means a lot of extra Defense Against the Dark Arts homework for us.”
“Gilderoy’s going to need help to develop into a real Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor,” Hermione said looking at Harry. “He needs book knowledge of defensive spells, but he also needs practical mentoring.”
“As if I don’t have enough to worry about!” Harry exclaimed.
“Please Harry,” Hermione said holding his hand and looking into his eyes.
Harry looked into that sweet smiling face and those golden brown eyes.
“Oh alright,” Harry surrendered. “I’ll help out today. But I won’t do a thing tomorrow if we get killed tonight.”
Mr. Lockhart’s treatment consisted of a spell that put him into a hypnotic trance (Aperomensa), and a spell for putting fantasies into his brain (Scribomensa), and then reading to him a slightly toned done version of Holiday With Hags, with some extra reference material from The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection. Harry was kept busy all morning looking up practical material that might help a wizard to survive the situations that were described in Lockhart’s book.
That afternoon while the girls worked on editing Vacation With Vampires, Pye let Lockhart out of his trance for a practical lesson with Harry.
“Do you remember how to do a Disarming Charm, Mr. Lockhart?” Harry asked.
“Yes I do, Harvey!” Lockhart exclaimed happily. “It’s Expelliarmus! What a marvelous feeling! I can remember using this spell to disarm three trolls of their clubs beneath a stone bridge in Norway. I think I wrote about it in my book Travels With Trolls.”
“Alright, you just charm this willow branch out of my hand before I hit you with it,” Harry instructed. “Anima!”
“Oh my! That’s a frightful stick you’ve got there, Henry!” Lockhart said cowering. “OW!”
“Use the spell Mr. Lockhart,” Harry suggested.
“Yes, ah… OW!... ah Expellamouse!” Lockhart shouted, producing a rodent at the end of his wand.
That night, when he would have much rather been crawling into bed, Harry hefted Moody’s heavy trunk from a Muggle train at the Salisbury railway station without using magic. Shacklebolt and Hermione held their wands beneath their coats and kept a lookout while Harry wrestled the trunk onto a cart and pushed it around an unlit corner of the building.
“It’s OK Harry,” Hermione said. “There are no Muggles here.”
Harry opened the trunk and took out their brooms. Then he levitated the trunk and the three of them flew off to the west. They passed a couple of Muggle villages and landed on a country lane a few miles from the closest village. It was cold and clear. A quarter moon was just rising in the east.
“It’s time to let our guide out of the trunk,” Shacklebolt said.
“You didn’t leave Dobby locked in that trunk since yesterday afternoon did you Harry?” Hermione asked.
“I let him out!” Harry said irritably. “He spent most of the day sleeping at the Leaky Cauldron because he spent most of last night bouncing on his bed.”
Dobby led them along the country lane to a fence that surrounded a hilly pasture. They followed the fence until they came to a stile next to a gnarly old tree. Then Dobby showed them a piece of parchment with some pictures on it. There was a reasonably good likeness of Lucius Malfoy standing next to the opening of a mine, a stylized path with footprints and a picture of this stile next to the gnarly tree.
“This picture was drawn by the elf secret keeper at the mine,” Dobby said. “It’s used by elves that are making deliveries to the mine.”
There was a large partially wooded hill in the pasture beyond the fence. Sheep stood out as white shapes in the moonlight. Dobby climbed over the stile and vanished. A few moments later Dobby’s head appeared above the fence.
“Tis safe to climb the fence, Dobby sees no one here,” Dobby reported.
Harry climbed the stile and hopped over the fence, passing through a magical barrier that concealed the mine. On the other side of the fence there was a rocky mountain that was at least twice as tall as the illusory hill in the nonexistent pasture. Harry saw the opening of a small tunnel that led into the mountain near a pile of gravel. Looking back, Harry saw Kingsley Shacklebolt levitating the trunk over the fence. When the trunk was mid-way above the stile, Harry caught it with his own levitating spell and lowered it to the ground beside him. A few moments later Hermione fell to the ground in front of the stile.
“Ooff,” she grunted.
“Are you alright?” Harry asked her as he helped her up.
“I just slipped off the stile,” she whispered.
“Where’s Shacklebolt?” Harry whispered.
“He’ll wait by the tree,” Hermione explained. “We can’t bring an Auror onto Mr. Malfoy’s property. That would break the deal we made with the mine-elves.”
They advanced to the shadow of the pile of mine tailings.
“Dobby, we’re not going into that pit,” Harry whispered. “Have some of your relatives come out here and we’ll give them the supplies.”
Dobby disappeared down the mine. Harry and Hermione huddled next to the trunk in the darkness, their wands ready.
Several minutes later a couple of elves came out of the mine pushing a cart that was heavily laden with gravel. Dobby was with them. The elves quietly greeted Harry and Hermione, dumped the gravel on the tailing pile and loaded up the cart with the blankets, food and medicine. The mine-elves each gave Dobby a quick hug, shook Harry’s hand and pushed the cart back into the mine. Harry, Hermione and Dobby cautiously scrambled back to the stile. When Hermione was safely on the other side, Harry levitated the trunk over to Shacklebolt. Harry took one last look back at the mountain and the tiny opening to the mine. Then he climbed over the fence himself. Looking back he saw the pasture and the sheep. Then Dobby appeared out of thin air clambering down the stile.
They mounted their brooms and flew to Salisbury, but the railway station was dark and deserted. The next passenger train to London didn’t depart until morning so they flew along the railway to a freight yard where they boarded an empty goods wagon on an east bound train. They arrived exhausted at the Leaky Cauldron at a little past four. Tom was a bit grouchy about letting them in at that hour but Kingsley Shacklebolt was not someone to be pushed around.
Harry, Hermione and Susan Bones spent most of Sunday at St. Mungo’s Hospital reading to Mr. Lockhart. It was Harry’s strongly held opinion that their time would have been better spent studying for their classes, or reading about the Gold Serpent Staff, or studying defensive spells, or practicing Sympathetic Magic, or flying brooms, or patronizing Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor, or playing Wizard’s Chess or sleeping. Especially sleeping, that would have been very nice. Harry regarded Dr. Pye’s novel attempt to construct a memory for Lockhart as very unlikely to work and even less likely to turn out to be a good thing. At least he got to be with Hermione. And Susan said it had been the most productive and least stressful weekend of the project.
Hermione was positively beaming on Monday morning. She was happy about the progress they had made with Mr. Lockhart. She was happy about the successful and safe delivery of the relief supplies to the mine-elves. She was happy that Harry was on the train with her. Mostly she was happy because she had gotten a letter from her parents that had Muggle airliner tickets in it. But she couldn’t talk about that in front of Susan.
“Did you see the schedule for end of term exams!” Ron complained as they escorted Susan Bones to the hospital after dinner that evening. “The Potions exam is the first thing! It’s next Monday morning! Why couldn’t that one be later in the week?”
“Maybe we could ask Dumbledore to reschedule it for later in the week,” Harry suggested.
“There’s not much chance of that happening, I don’t think you should bother trying,” Hermione said. “You’ll just have to start studying now.”
“If we all asked Dumbledore, he might make the change. I’m sure he wants us to do well on our Potions exam,” Ron said.
“We could start talking to other people in the class and…” Harry started to say. But he was interrupted by a jerk on his arm from Hermione.
“No,” she whispered to him sharply. “I asked Dumbledore to move it forward to Monday and he agreed to do it!”
“I think it’s better to just get the Potions exam out of the way early so we don’t have to worry about it,” Hermione said to Ron.
“I tend to agree with Ron,” Susan said. “I could use a few more days to study for that one.”
“But maybe we shouldn’t bother Dumbledore,” Harry said.
“What?” Ron exclaimed. “I thought you were with me!”
“Dumbledore has a lot on his mind, we shouldn’t bother him with trivial things like rescheduling exams,” Harry said looking at Hermione.
After Susan was safely escorted to the hospital, Harry, Ron and Hermione returned to Gryffindor Tower. When they arrived at the portrait of the fat lady Hermione and Harry let Ron go in first while they stayed in the hall to talk.
“Discussing your Ministerial Secret again?” Ron asked, smiling as if it was a joke.
“As a matter of fact it is a secret. Thank you for escorting us Ron,” Hermione said.
“What’s up,” Harry asked Hermione when Ron had gone through the door.
“Professor Snape’s exam won’t be our first exam this term it will be our last one,” Hermione said. “We’re going to take our exams early, on Saturday evening and Sunday.”
“That’s horrible!” Harry complained. “Why are we doing that?”
“You and I are going to start our Christmas vacation a bit early. We leave Hogwarts on the train next Monday afternoon,” Hermione explained. “It should help keep the Death Eaters from bothering us while we travel.”
“I get so tired of feeling like we’re being stalked by murderers every minute of every day,” Harry said.
“I know Harry, some days I just want to be able to go to the library without an escort,” she agreed. “But Malfoy and his gang tried to murder you on the Hogwarts Express last summer.”
“And they tried to murder you in the Girls’ room,” Harry said.
“But there’s a bright side. By leaving early we’ll get to spend two whole weeks in Canada!” Hermione pointed out. “And we both really need a good vacation.”
“So what’s the plan for this evening?” Harry asked “Should we relax, read a novel, sit on the sofa together with your head in my lap so I can run my fingers through your hair, or should we study.”
“Here’s a copy of our exam schedules,” she said showing Harry her personal planning calendar. “All of our teachers are letting us take our exams early and in secret, except Professor Snape. He hasn’t been told we’re leaving early.”
“Bloody hell,” Harry said looking at the schedule.
“The plan is to put the Veritaserum into a pastry and make sure that one of Malfoy’s gang eats it,” Ron explained later that night. “Then we question him in public and get him to confess to attacking Hermione in front of witnesses. Shacklebolt will have to arrest the lot of them and Hogwarts will be a safer place.”
“When are we going to do it?” Harry asked. “I don’t want Hermione to be there, it might upset her. And the rest of Malfoy’s gang might react badly when one of them confesses in public. It might cause a riot.”
“It has to be Wednesday at dinner,” Ron said. “Tuesday and Thursday we have Quidditch practice and won’t be able to set it up, on Friday it’s chess, on Saturday there’s a Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and we can’t predict how long that will last.”
“Wednesday’s not good. It’s the last S.P.E.W. meeting of the term,” Harry pointed out.
“So we miss a night of practicing spells,” Ron quipped.
“It’s not the practice, it’s the Elf Welfare stuff,” Harry explained. “Hermione will want to report on the successful relief mission. And we have to start on the Elf Bill of Rights and make sure we’re completely organized because next term, Shacklebolt won’t be here.”
“Has Dumbledore found a permanent Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor?” Ron asked.
“Yeah, but if I told you who it is, you wouldn’t believe me,” Harry replied.
“Try me,” Ron said.
“Gilderoy Lockhart,” Harry deadpanned. “They’re trying to fix his brain so he really believes that he can fight Dark Creatures.”
“You’re right! I don’t believe you,” Ron gasped. “Whoa, we have to expose Malfoy’s gang before Shacklebolt leaves! How about next Monday?”
“Since you’re in on the secret, I’ll let you in on the secret,” Harry said. “Hermione and I are taking exams early and leaving on Monday afternoon.”
“We can’t wait until next term!” Ron exclaimed.
Ron thought for a few moments.
“I’ll pull it off when you two are gone” Ron finally said. “That way, if it causes a riot you won’t get into trouble.”
“But you’ll get into trouble,” Harry said.
“I’m a Prefect. I shouldn’t be getting into trouble,” Ron said. “I’ll let Dennis Creevy do the dirty work. He’s aching to do some grand prank.”
On the following Monday afternoon Harry and Hermione sneaked out of the castle under the cover of Harry’s invisibility cloak and took the secret passage from the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack. At four PM the London train pulled out of Hogsmeade station and Harry and Hermione began to relax a little. They watched the highlands roll past as the train headed south. They walked to the dining car while the train made a short stop in Edinburgh.
Dennis consulted the Marauder’s Map. Malfoy and his gang were creatures of habit. They were sitting in their usual places.
“Put the tray there,” he directed the kitchen elves.
The house-elves were nervous about this. It was bad form for house-elves to poison a student, but George nodded his head. They placed the tray of pastries on the enchanted table directly beneath the Slytherin table.
“This soup is delicious,” Hermione said.
“The bread’s good too,” Harry added.
”The tray for Malfoy’s gang had no cakes with yellow frosting and exactly one blue cake,” Dennis reported to Ron as he returned to his seat in the Great Hall. “Yes! They’ve got it!”
“Who’s taking the blue cake?” Ron asked.
“It’s Goyle,” Dennis reported gleefully.
“Perfect,” Ron said smugly.
“Do you think your parents will be able to understand what’s happened between us?” Harry asked Hermione over dessert.
“Magical Marriage? I don’t think so,” she said.
”I think it’s totally unfair that the Girls’ toilets are so much nicer than the Boys’ toilets!” Dennis argued loudly so his voice would carry over to the Slytherin table.
“And what makes you think the Girls’ toilets are nicer than the Boys’ toilets?” Ginny Weasley asked loudly.
“Well they are nicer” Dennis stated. “The Girls’ room has brighter paint and it’s not peeling too much, and they’ve got a little table with silk flowers on it, and a chair!”
“And when did you become an expert on the decorations of Girls’ toilets?” Ginny challenged him.
“Do you think they would understand this?” Harry asked Hermione as he handed her a small box.
”Laugh at me will you? Well, you don’t know a thing about Girls’ toilets because you’ve never had the guts to go in one and look for yourself,” Dennis taunted Colin. “Where’s your spirit of adventure? Hey Longbottom! Have you ever been in a Girls’ toilet?”
“Not on purpose,” Neville said turning red. “It was an honest mistake, I was lost.”
“Mistakes don’t count! It doesn’t take any guts to get confused,” Dennis said proudly.
“Dennis you are really being obnoxious!” Ginny huffed.
“How many boys have had the guts to peek into a Girls’ toilet?” Dennis asked loudly.”
“Oh Harry it’s beautiful,” Hermione said happily as he slipped the ring onto her finger.
They held each other tight and kissed as the train crossed over a bridge.
”Hey Goyle!” Dennis shouted at the Slytherin table. “Have you ever been in a Girls’ toilet?”
“Yes,” Goyle replied.
“Who’s meeting us at King’s Cross Station?” Harry asked Hermione.
“Bill and Fleur Weasley will be there” she answered. “We’ll spend the night at their flat and fly out of Heathrow in the morning.”
“Are there any special plans when we get to Vancouver?” Harry asked.
”Hey Goyle!” Dennis asked loudly. “Did you go into a Girls’ toilet and beat up Hermione?”
“Yes,” Goyle replied.
“We can go shopping!” Hermione said brightly. “And we’ll have a nice quiet Christmas with my parents. And we’ll drive to Banff for a few days.”
“What’s Banff?” Harry asked.
“It’s in the mountains. There are ski resorts there!” she replied enthusiastically.
The Great Hall suddenly became a lot quieter, but Dennis still spoke loudly.
“Who helped you beat up Hermione, Goyle?” Dennis asked.
“SILENCIO!” Draco Malfoy shouted, pointing his wand at Goyle.
The alarm bell began to ring.
“Is skiing really your thing?” Harry asked.
“I love to ski,” Hermione said smiling.
“I’ve never been on skis,” Harry said.
“Any husband of mine has to be able to ski,” Hermione said bluntly.
Theodore Nott and Vincent Crabbe both pulled out their wands and shot hexes at Dennis but he was expecting that and hit the deck. Nott’s spell caused a second year Ravenclaw girl to start throwing up her dinner. Crabbe’s spell knocked a tray of cupcakes, two pitchers of juice and a bowl of peas off the Hufflepuff table. Wands were appearing everywhere. Malfoy took aim at Ginny Weasley. Dennis pulled out a bamboo wand with two purple stripes.
“But I don’t know how to ski,” Harry said.
“I’ll teach you to love it,” Hermione assured him.
“Well as long as it’s not too fast,” Harry said uneasily.
“You’ll like the moguls, we’ll start on one of the black trails,” Hermione grinned.
Hexes were flying all over the Great Hall. Students were dancing uncontrollably or falling down. Some were as stiff as boards, some had huge teeth, others were spitting out slugs, many were wandering around aimlessly. Wands were flying through the air. Pansey Parkinson was being tormented by bat boggies. Justin Finch-Fletchley was naked. Cindy Chambers was standing next to him and covering her eyes.
“Is this revenge for the broom flying thing?” Harry asked nervously.
“Would I do a thing like that?” Hermione asked innocently.
The train roared into the midlands.