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It was during lunchtime, a month into the Hogwarts Restoration Project, when the doors to the great hall slammed open revealing Lisa Turpin, Blaise Zabini, and fourteen students previously assumed dead.
Harry watched Lisa’s stoic face as she pulled her wand out of its poised position and walked briskly into the hall. The motley bunch of students that followed clung close at her heels. Some were dressed in full robes with Hogwarts scarves and crests, others in scruffy looking muggle clothes, and one even sporting the odd combination of white dress shirt and a baseball cap. The oldest couldn’t have been more than thirteen, save for Zabini who brought up the rear. Next to their collective short stature, Lisa towered over everyone in the hall, helped in no small part by her starched and pressed robes, long dark hair, and blank face turned straight ahead. In comparison, her followers looked quickly side to side: the children – to exchange nervous glances, and Zabini – to meet curiosity and glares alike with his perpetual look of bored condescension. One of the children puffed his cheeks and stared defiantly out onto the crowd, causing another one of them to ruffle his thick brown hair in jest. At one point, a diner sitting at the Hufflepuff table gave a shout and ran up to meet one of the children, presumably a younger sibling. Lisa continued her march to the top of the hall, but Zabini pulled back, along with six others who glanced nervously between him and Lisa, as if they weren’t sure which they preferred. He watched the resulting reunion carefully and shared a few quiet words with the siblings.
It was the bad luck of everybody involved that, when Lisa pulled herself to a stop directly in front of McGonagall, Hermione was there, intent on engaging the Headmistress in a discussion regarding the current status of castle repairs and future NEWT scheduling. It was even worse luck that Hermione had dragged Harry there with her, under the mistaken perception that he was at all interested in settling the schedule for the NEWTs.
“You’ll have to excuse me for a second, Ms Granger,” McGonagall brushed Hermione off as she turned to the intruders, “Ms Turpin, a pleasure, Professor Flitwick has informed me of your situation, or what little of it Mr Zabini exposited on in his letter. What is it you require from me?”
Hermione gave an indignant huff (she had been planning to corner McGonagall on the issue of the NEWTs for several days now) and didn’t bother to pretend that she wasn’t fully intent on staying to listen to whatever Lisa had to say.
Lisa didn’t even glance at her, although several of her entourage did. “I was hoping I could count on you to provide for food and shelter until we can locate the families, or what’s left of them at any rate. Most of the older ones have already left in search of them. They were becoming difficult to restrain.”
“Understandable, under the circumstances, don’t you think, Ms Turpin?” McGonagall interrupted.
“Quite.” Lisa continued, “I think we can have most of them resettled within the next couple of days. It seems Blaise has already lost one to the crowd at this point. I don’t foresee that it will be a strain on your resources given the brevity of the stay,” Lisa paused and twisted her lips, “for most of them, I should hope.”
McGonagall and Hermione grimaced almost imperceptibly. But the children seemed rather bored by the situation. Most were chattering amongst each other, but one was leaning up against Lisa, clearly trying not to fall asleep. Ron was sneaking up to stand next to Harry and on the way happened upon Zabini and the last of the children making their way up to Lisa. They looked at each other awkwardly. Or, rather, Ron looked awkward and then angrier and angrier as Zabini refused to look anything but unimpressed.
“I won’t pretend that resources are not strained, but Hogwarts has a responsibility towards all its students. As long as students need to stay here, I will do the best in my power to keep them, and keep them safe. That goes for Mr Zabini and yourself as well. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Zabini hadn’t deigned to notice McGonagall’s display of hospitality and was listening to something one of the kids was telling him. Likewise, Lisa’s expression didn’t betray anything, but her head turned downwards and her voice emerged softer than before. “His mother is still missing, and my family wouldn’t return from Sweden with me…” Her voice steeled itself again. “Your hospitality would be most appreciated.”
“And your help with the restoration project would be most appreciated. But,” McGonagall’s voice had taken on her strictest tone, “from what Flitwick had relayed to me, there is a far more serious problem you require help with.”
Lisa nodded and pulled a sugar cube out of her pocket and held it up for McGonagall’s inspection. “Th-things, didn’t quite go as planned,” Lisa’s voice faltered, “We had to perform the spell again, he was ready to take all of us down, himself included. We considered both St Mungos and the Stolkholm Magisk MC, but we figured he might be most comfortable with Madame Pomfrey.”
“No doubt you are also most comfortable with Madame Pomfrey,” McGonagall added. “Very well, I believe you are unfamiliar with the changes to the castle since the reconstruction efforts.”
Harry scowled. McGonagall had of course meant that Lisa had disappeared on the eve of the Battle of Hogwarts, and had seen none of the destruction, let alone the reconstruction.
McGonagall was responding to Lisa’s brief nod. “In that case,” she turned to Hermione, “Ms Granger, since you have nothing better to do than stand here, why don’t you lead Ms Turpin and Mr Zabini to the hospital wing.” She turned to glare at Harry and Ron, “And you two, Mr Weasley, Mr Potter, can direct these children to the dorms set up for the younger students.”
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but was beaten to the punch by nine different voices.
“But-”
“-left alone-”
“Professor-”
“Nooo~”
“-but they said-”
The headmistress raised her arms over the noise and looked pointedly at one of the girls huddled around Lisa’s torso, “Ms Pennington,” she prompted.
The girl’s blond pigtails bobbed, and she blushed at the sudden attention. “Mrs Liz and Zabby said we could stay with them for as long as we wanted. Until everybody else shows up to get us,” she said nervously, “and even longer if we want.” Harry noticed she was wearing a Ravenclaw blue and bronze striped scarf. It looked funny next to the red Mickey Mouse t-shirt she was wearing.
Lisa cut in, “Professor, there was also some superficial damage to some of the others. I believe I’ve managed to heal them sufficiently, but given the circumstances surrounding extended human transfigurations, it might be prudent to have them all examined.”
Hermione frowned deeply at the mention of human transfiguration, but McGonagall was trying to hide a wry smile, “Alright, you’ve convinced me. Don’t think I’m unaware that you play up that wallflower’s smile to your own benefit, Ms Pennington.” The girl smiled wider as McGonagall turned up to address the entire group. “It’s good to see the rest of you back. Ms Granger and her friends will be escorting you to the hospital wing, and then to the Hufflepuff dorms in the basement, where the other younger students are housed. Mr Zabini and Ms Turpin, you will also be spending the next few nights there until your charges are feeling more secure.” She then turned around abruptly and spoke in a lower voice to Hermione before stalking forward to help reconvene the lunching members of the Restoration Committee.
Hermione scowled as she stalked off towards the hospital wing, Ron and Harry trailing behind her. She scowled deeper when she realized Lisa, Zabini, and their tiny posse had failed to follow them. They were all staring to the hall that led to the staircases to the second floor. It was completely caved in.
Hermione turned back, eyed Lisa wearily, then Zabini, and then Lisa again. “We’ll have to go down a floor before circling back around to the south staircase up the hospital tower.”
Lisa blinked, as if she just remembered that Hermione was there. “Thank you, Granger,” she managed. “It’s good to see the three of you looking well. It’s been a long couple of months,” Lisa paused again, “with a longer year before it.”
Zabini snorted. But he made to follow Hermione, and the children followed him. He pushed them up so they walked slightly ahead of him and Lisa.
Harry eyed him suspiciously, before turning towards Ron and Hermione, as they made their way up to the hospital wing.
“He’s no Malfoy, but he’s a pretty nasty bloke all the same isn’t he?” Ron was saying.
Harry frowned. “He might not be on Malfoy’s level, but he wasn’t shy about his own prejudices at the beginning of sixth year. And we heard some pretty weird stories about his mother during Slug Club meetings.”
Ron frowned, presumably at being reminded of the Slug Club, and then coughed something under his breath that Harry thought sounded suspiciously like ‘scarlet woman’ before Hermione cut him off, and continued as if she hadn’t heard him.
“Lisa might not be much better,” Hermione added, “I thought she was okay, bit distant, but I heard she had no qualms about using Crucio last year.”
Harry followed Hermione’s eyes to glance back where Blaise and Lisa were both talking quietly behind the younger students.
“…didn’t say a word, Blaise. What good is a Slytherin, if I can’t count on you for PR?” Lisa was grinning and leaning teasingly onto his shoulder while she walked.
Blaise looked bored as he looked back to her. “Such an intolerant woman…”
They turned back to look forward up the stairs of the hospital tower. Harry set his foot on the first step in preparation for the climb up the four flights of stairs.
“I still think she’s better than he is. What does she see in him?” Ron seemed almost baffled.
Harry had been hoping Ron wouldn’t go off on a tangent about Zabini’s incomprehensible masculine charm, when he was surprised by this last comment. They’re going out? he thought, and only just managed to stop himself from saying it aloud. Harry had heard enough about how unobservant he was for one lifetime.
“I wouldn’t be so sure, considering McGonagall’s comments about human transfiguration,” Hermione frowned again, “and about the relative safety of Madame Pomfrey. The only legal human transformations are cast on oneself, such as the animagus transformation.”
Hermione did not elaborate further. This was apparently meant to speak for itself.
Ron looked uncomfortable for a moment, before chuckling, “You guys all remember Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret. Will never stop being funny!” he laughed, thinking of another human transfiguration.
Harry was inclined to agree. “If there was ever a reason I was glad for fake Moody...” he laughed.
Hermione shot them both a look that Harry knew was meant to be reprimanding, but the effect was ruined entirely by the way the corner of her lip curled upwards.
Ah, there was something Harry forgot to ask her. “Did McGonagall say anything to you about it when she was leaving?”
“No, just told me to be patient, and she would get back to me about the NEWTs later. And that she needed to tend to discussions with the house elves and Professor Flitwick on a more immediate basis.” Hermione scowled, still clearly peeved about the NEWTs.
Ron looked like he wanted to say something about how disappointed he was about the lack of progress on this subject, not at all disappointed in other words, but wisely decided against it.
They continued walking, lost in thought, until they approached the second floor landing, when somebody tugged at the midsection of his robes. Before Harry could turn to look, the boy had started talking.
“Hi! I’m Corey! And this is Leona and Spike,” he gestured, to two other students. “I told them you were Harry Potter, and you were in my house in first year and won the quidditch cup for us, but they don’t believe me. You should tell them that I’m right and Gryffindor is the best.”
“Oh, that’s not fair,” Leona whined, “Even if he’s in Gryffindor, Zabby is in Slytherin, so it’s even.” She turned to the other boy. “And all this makes Spike feel left out.” She pouted.
Corey waved her off and turned expectantly towards Harry.
“Um, I am,” Harry muttered. “I am Harry Potter, I mean.”
Spike looked conflicted. “You don’t sound very sure.”
Ron laughed and Hermione smiled and bent down a bit.
“He is Harry Potter. The genuine article. And, thanks to him, the war is over and things will be getting much better soon.”
Leona wrinkled her nose. “That’s not what Ms Liz said. She said that the last two months might have been like a fun field trip, but we had to go home, where things were difficult. But she that said that’s what makes people brave, when you’re scared to go home where things are difficult, but you do it anyway.”
Hermione clearly didn’t know how to respond to this. Harry privately thought it was rather rich that Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw, was lecturing on the nature of bravery, and a Ravenclaw who ran from the Battle of Hogwarts at that. The thought might not have been as private as he wished; he looked towards Ron, whose simultaneously annoyed, incredulous, and overwhelmed expression almost certainly mirrored his own.
Hermione had decided to focus on the more manageable part of the issue though. “A field trip? Where have you guys been?”
“The Continent!” Corey shouted.
“No, no,” said Leona. “That’s not the name of the country, it’s Sweden!”
“Uh-huh,” Spike was nodding his head.
Corey didn’t seem at all put off by this correction. “It was lots of fun! We went exploring in the woods around Mr and Mrs Turpin’s house, and we went fishing. And Ms Liz showed us how to do a wordless Lumos. And Zabby bought us whatever kind of take-away we wanted. And I knew Leona and Spike were second years, like me, but we had never really met, so one day Zabby gives us that look and says…”
Corey was doing a startlingly good impression of Zabini’s icy stare and starting to sneer when they were interrupted by their imminent arrival at the hospital wing.
“What is this entire racket?! No more than six visitors!” Madame Pomfrey was shouting. Then she saw who was at the door. “Oh! Lisa! So glad to see you’re okay. You’ve lost weight in the last couple months, here why don’t you sit down.”
Madame Pomfrey waved Lisa through the doorway and the others followed. Pomfrey quickly bustled around and waved her wand to summon an unusually plush hospital stool to just behind Lisa’s feet.
“Here you are, dear,” she said. “I hate to put the pleasantries aside for the moment, but- Professor Flitwick informed me of the basics of your situation. Although I’d rather hear it directly from you.”
“Are you talking about Matthew?” one of the children piped up. All the other people in the room turned to look at her.
Lisa broke the silence. “Yes, Joanne, we’re talking about Matthew.”
“Is he going to try to curse us again?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Lisa sighed. “Probably.”
Harry wondered very suddenly why he was still standing there. He suddenly felt like an intruder.
Hermione didn’t seem to share his reservations though. “Matthew Simpkins? What exactly is it that happened-?”
Madame Pomfrey turned towards them and looked seemed to notice the three of them for the first time. “Oh, are you all well? You haven’t had any more Quidditch accidents, have you?” she said, glancing suspiciously at Harry and Ron.
“They showed us the way here, Poppy. The castle is a bit more dishevelled than I remember,” Lisa offered.
Harry thought dishevelled was an odd way of saying that over half the castle was inaccessible, if not from being blocked by piles of rubble, then due to magical imbalances.
Lisa continued on. “Yes, Matthew Simpkins,” she allowed towards Hermione before turning back to Madame Pomfrey. “He was one of the earlier ones. The third or fourth after I finished practicing on deer. I had a bit of a tiff with Blaise and Tracey about it afterwards. I thought I had messed up the transfiguration, but they convinced me that doubting myself would only mean more lives lost. They were right…” Lisa swallowed visibly, but her voice stayed steady. “…But so was I. I didn’t get much time to examine him. It was after we arrived in Sweden. He grabbed my wand, and flung out more than a few unforgivables. They all missed, fortunately, and then Blaise tossed me his wand and I redid the transfiguration.”
Pomfrey looked rather grim. “Mr Zabini, why don’t you lead the others out into the hall. I will require Ms Turpin for a little longer. It won’t be long and I’ll be sure she’s safe in the meantime.”
“Wait, Poppy-” Lisa interrupted. “I thought it might be good to have the others double checked. For anything I might have missed.”
“Lisa… Are your doubts about the health of the others grounded? Or are you attempting to buy time, so as to avoid dealing with Matthew?”
Lisa looked down. “The latter,” she conceded.
“We will perform diagnostics on the others tomorrow morning then,” Madame Pomfrey allowed. “For the time being, out!” she shouted.
There was a collective whine, but in the face of Pomfrey’s stern face and Zabini’s careful prods towards the door, they exited the hospital wing en masse.
Zabini caught Harry’s eye on the way out the door, and Zabini nodded. Harry wondered if that look was supposed to communicate something other than the usual cold condescension. Harry once again felt like leaving, but Hermione was standing determinedly in place, white-faced, with a death grip on Ron’s arm. Madame Pomfrey seemed content to ignore them. Harry wondered when being a war hero had started to mean you were allowed into any number of private conversations.
“And what is your diagnosis?” Pomfrey prodded Lisa.
“I don’t think there were any mistakes the second time. I know that wounds predating a transfiguration are held in stasis, and can be easily treated later. But, in this case, the wounds were caused during the transfiguration itself. The bones and muscle were held in an incorrect position for an extended period. They were very severe fractures. On his right thigh and forearm… I’m not sure he…”
Pomfrey nodded. “I know you want to hear this can be fixed, but the truth is- Flitwick and I didn’t agree to supervise your work in experimental healing charms lightly. I trust your pragmatism and instincts, much more than your hopes in this case.”
This time the emotion was palpable on Lisa’s face. She looked visibly relieved, and it gave way to a sort of calm.
“Double amputation then,” she said.
Hermione inhaled sharply and in a way that produced a small squeak. Ron was turning a dangerous purple colour. Next to them, Harry felt like he couldn’t move.
Madame Pomfrey had no such reservations. She turned towards the three of them.
“We should have things under control, but Mr Simpkins was extremely violent the last time he was awakened, and it will seem like no time has passed at all to him since then. If things get out of hand, I’m relying on your aid in restraining him. Should we require your help, a standard sleeping spell should be sufficient.”
She got up, moved further back into the ward, and pulled the covers off one of the beds. She performed a couple of cleaning charms, summoned a strange assortment of medical supplies, and nodded to Lisa, who stood and followed her.
“You’ll undo the transfiguration and help sedate him. But due to the personal nature of this situation, I will stem the bleeding, double check your diagnosis, and take care of the rest myself. We will start immediately.”
Lisa pulled the sugar cube out of her pocket and placed it in the centre of the bed. When she waved her wand, the sugar cube grew to match, and then slightly exceed, the width of the bed.
In its larger form, it was possible to see that it wasn’t actually a perfect cube, and the outline of a foot and a face were visible on some of the sides.
Somebody had applied a silencing charm around the bed at some point, because the methodical rhythm of Lisa and Pomfrey’s footsteps and mutterings were no longer heard on this side of the ward.
And then there were no footsteps to hear. Vials of blood-replenishing potion, and who knew what else, were stacked on a tray at the foot of the bed, and Poppy Pomfrey and Lisa Turpin were standing perfectly still, with their backs to the trio.
Lisa raised her wand, and there was a blur of red and peach coloured skin. Matthew Simpkins was much older than the other students Lisa was carrying around. Had he been standing he would have been just short of Ron’s height, and he was thrashing the whole of his weight on the hospital room bed.
Severe fractures… Right thigh and forearm…
Lisa’s words were completely unsatisfactory for expressing Matthew Simpkin’s state of health. His leg was held together by only a small portion of muscle, the bone crushed completely in half. His arm was twisted completely backwards, bone was splintered and poking out of the side of his skin. Both were a dark red colour that faded dangerously into black in some places, and covered in blood and shining puss. The putrid smell of the wounds spread rapidly throughout the room.
Lisa was also clearly not fully expecting this, because she looked blankly at Matthew. And he, red-faced, spurred on only by a fit of rage, flung himself directly at Lisa, splattering blood all over her and knocking the wand from her hands. He fumbled for her wand, and was unable to grab a hold of it, but he was screaming, CRUCIOOOO! CRUCIIIOOO!! Harry couldn’t hear it, on the other side of the silencing spell, but he saw the man clearly mouth the words, and even felt the sound waves vibrating against his skin. Or perhaps he was just imagining that part.
Not again.
Pomfrey was raising her wand, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron and Hermione’s hands twitch towards their pockets, but Harry was faster.
“S-stupefy,” he mouthed almost silently and watched the man fall, almost toppling Lisa Turpin in the process.
Madame Pomfrey wasted no time preforming the levitating spells needed to return Matthew to the bed. To Harry, he looked indistinguishable from a corpse.
Lisa regained her footing and bent down to pick up her wand and exchanged a few more words with Pomfrey before turning away from the bed, flicking her wand to summon a barrage of curtains that blocked Harry’s view of the matron and her patient. She walked straight up to Harry, with her neatly pressed robes splattered with blood.
“Poppy wants me to tell you she’s grateful for your help, but to remind you that the stunning spell can have dangerous repercussions on severely injured parties. We were lucky in this case; it seems your spell lacked proper intention, and the unusually weak spell, combined with his adrenaline high saved his life.”
Harry could not help but notice that Lisa hadn’t said that she was grateful for his help. He felt exhausted, but beneath it he could already feel the anger bubbling.
Hermione was staring, wide eyed, past Lisa. “You- You mutilated him. You cast illegal spells on all of them, all of those kids! And you mutilated him! And you cast unforgivables, on Seamus Finnegan and Ginny Weasley, and there are others too!”
Ron jaw tightened at the mention of his sister.
Lisa looked almost genuinely surprised as she turned to Granger, before returning to her unfeeling expression. “We all cast the unforgivables, Granger. They were taught in defence class.”
“That’s not true. It’s not. My sister…” Ron sputtered angrily.
“Your sister cast unforgivables,” Lisa said.
“That’s not…” Harry tried.
Lisa’s voice rose up to talk over him. “Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, Longbottom. Those are the only three. I don’t know about everyone in Ginny Weasley’s class, but within our year, they were the only three who never cast the Cruciatus.”
“Seamus…” Hermione mumbled. She was still trying to look past Lisa’s eyes, for what Harry didn’t know.
“Seamus was paired with me for class. My mother was a half-blood and the Carrows found the idea of pitting two mixed breeds against each other amusing. Seamus cast it on me first. He told me it made nipples twitch and show through my clothes. I never had a problem cursing him after that.” Lisa made eye contact with all three of them, almost glaring, “And if I cast it more frequently, well, it was a good cover for our rescue mission.” She gave a little laugh. “With the smart ones, we could even get away with casting tickling charms and screaming at the top of our lungs.”
“But-”
“You weren’t there. You don’t know.” Her voice was clear again. Unwilling to yield an inch.
One of a million tiny betrayals.
And suddenly, anger Harry didn’t know was there boiled over, “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! YOU WEREN’T THERE EITHER! WHERE WERE YOU DURING THE BATTLE?! DURING THE BATTLE OF HOGWARTS?! YOU RAN AWAY! RAN AWAY TO GO CRIPPLE SOME KIDS!”
Hermione gasped.
Harry didn’t see the fist until after Zabini had swivelled him around and ploughed through his nose.
Ron clasped his arms to Harry’s shoulders to hold him up. Ron looked lost and Zabini’s fist looked bloody.
“Nineteen, Potter. Nineteen of your pathetic half-bloods, mudbloods, and blood traitors. You self-righteous fuck. Matthew Simpkins is alive. Corey James and Melandre Pace were bleeding out when she transfigured them. And when she reversed the transfiguration back she stayed up performing healing charms to make sure they made it through the night. Simpkins may have the right to be angry, but you sure as hell don’t. Not when she saved nineteen Mudbloods when you and your DA couldn’t be bothered.” Zabini was sneering viciously. Harry could see that the door was ajar behind him, and Corey and Leona were peering into the room curiously.
Ron was protesting loudly against Zabini’s foul language, but Harry wasn’t listening. Lisa had looked so calm and confident a moment ago, but Harry wondered if he had imagined it. She looked absolutely miserable, and her eyes looked watery.
“He can call us whatever he wants!” Corey had run into the room and was shouting loudly at Ron. “We know what he means. Because he always asked what kind of take-away we wanted.”
To Harry’s dismay, Corey’s eyes were also watery, and his nose was running.
Corey continued regardless. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I needed to be saved. I owe them so much. But I can’t do anything myself!” he blubbered. “I can’t even keep Ms Liz from crying!”
In six long years at Hogwarts, Harry had never seen Zabini make an expression that could not be defined by some mixture of lazy and haughty. But now, within the course of a day, Harry had seen him both blisteringly mad and, now, with an expression that looked... worried. Even apologetic.
“No, no. You don’t owe us anything, Corey. The take-away really didn’t cost that much. And the other stuff… we only did what we could, what we thought was right. And, that goes for you as well, Corey. It’s all anybody can expect from you.” He ruffled the thick hair on Corey’s head, and didn’t flinch when Corey hugged him.
Zabini glanced at Harry and his friends, and deciding that the retaliation against the punch wasn’t coming, turned to Lisa and spoke near her ear. She looked almost unhealthily pale next to Zabini’s darker completion. “I won’t tell you it’s okay. It isn’t. But you can’t keep beating yourself up over this, Liz. They’re all alive. We did what we could. Better than most.”
He waved a cleaning spell over Lisa’s bloody robes, and glanced back one more time before leading Corey and Lisa towards the exit. Leona quickly retreated behind the doorway, in an effort to make it look like she wasn’t watching the whole time.
Corey glared through his snot and tears on the way by. Harry realized how quickly he had changed in Corey’s eyes, from adored Gryffindor hero, to the jerk that made Ms Liz cry.
Lisa stepped up to Harry, and Ron and Hermione tensed as she lifted her wand, but she only pointed it at Harry’s nose and muttered, “Episkey”.
Harry thought she looked much calmer already, but still nowhere as stoic as Harry had first thought.
“We’re lucky Poppy had the two-way silencing ward set up,” she said, before turning to the exit. “And I think we can find our own way to Hufflepuff.”
When Lisa and Zabini opened the door into the hall, they were flooded by twelve children, all who seemed to want a hug to match the one Corey had gotten.
Harry looked to Ron and Hermione, both of whom were glancing between each other and the floor.
Once the others were gone, the trio walked in relative silence back to their rooms on the third floor. The Restoration Project had seemed so simple when they started out. But now they had to work with people like Turpin and Zabini, who thought that it was okay to play god, and had somehow recruited a bunch of silly firsties to that effect.
And the thought of Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret, failed completely to cheer him up.
Harry tried not to think about it.
When they were almost at their rooms, Ron finally lifted his head.
“I think I know what she sees in him. He might be useless most of the time but, in a pinch, he sure was there for her quickly.”
Hermione huffed a little, before she went back to looking troubled.
“Still a git though,” Ron muttered.