Stuck AIAOY 2

Chapter 7

"Hermione's due back today, isn't she?"  Fred asked, sliding into what had quickly become their bench at the Black Lake, next to Rebecca.  Rebecca, whom he had found had been increasingly distant in the days after Hermione's mishap.

"Yeah, she is."  Rebecca looked to him and felt herself smiling softly.  "You don't have to sit out here with me."

"I want to."  Fred waved his hand out theatrically.  "There's so much to see!"  The joke left them both in giggles.  The snow was piled out over the lake's frozen surface in a hardly-changing layer that was only met by a similarly white and dull surrounding by the tree.  Hogwarts, it seemed, was frozen and motionless.

Their company quickly reverted to silence, thought not uncomfortably so.  When the need grew too great, when Fred simply had to hear her speak more, he started conversation without weight--No mentions of Hermione, nor the Petrificiations, nor the increasing student-belief that Harry and Rebecca were behind it all.

Instead, they chatted and they laughed and they were happy.

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"And do you think everything will go back to normal when she's back?"  Ron asked Harry quietly, plodding alongside him down the corridors towards Gryffindor Tower.  

"I do."  Harry looked at Ron a brief moment as they walked, considering Ron's tone.  For someone who seemed to enjoy fighting and bickering and teasing Hermione near every moment of every day, he seemed to miss her.  

But at the same time, Harry knew exactly what Ron was talking about.  Hermione's exit from their group of four, even just for the week she was in the Hospital Wing, was frighteningly changing.  They needed their fourth back, they needed their Hermione back.

"What is that?"  Harry asked, the reflection of the torch on the wall catching the massive puddle of water coming from a side hall.  Ron led the way, hurrying into a slight jog as they followed the water all the way back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.  "Why would Myrtle flood the bathroom?"

"Because she's miserable and wants to make the rest of us?"  Ron offered, grimacing down at the water they were standing in.  "Toilet water, ugh!"

Harry was the first to step into the girls' lavatory and Ron immediately directed his attention to the ghostly figure sitting underneath the lip of the circular, stained-glass window.  The ghostly figure that was crying.

"Come to throw something else at me?"  Moaning Myrtle whinged.

Harry's eyes widened, shocked at the question.  "Why would we throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me."  Myrtle descended, slowly.  "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me."

Ron narrowed his eyes, failing to see the point.  "But, it can't hurt if someone throws something at you.  I mean, it'll just go right through you."  

Myrtle flew at Ron in an instant, stopping mere inches from her face and her eyes filled with a strange mixture of hurt and anger.  Ron felt guilty, for a second at least.  

"Oh, sure!"  Myrtle shouted.  "Let's all throw books at Myrtle because she can't feel it.  Ten points if you get it through her stomach."  Myrtle swung her arm forward and wished more so than usual that she was in a body, so that her hand would have connected with the insolent boy instead of going through him.  "Fifty if it goes through her head!"  

Ron flinched as the icy, ghost-feelings punched through him.  

Harry stood next to Ron and, while he did worry his own ghostly hits would come with questions, he had to ask.  "Who threw it at you anyway?"