The Hollow Beneath Hogwarts

128. I'm Still Standing

"Hang on." Daphne held up a hand from where she was perched on the end of Hermione's hospital bed, her brow furrowed in complete disbelief.

"Theo punched... an owl?"

For half a second the ward fell silent.

Then everyone burst out laughing.

Not polite chuckles. Proper, uncontrollable laughter.

Ron doubled over, clutching his stomach.

Ginny buried her face in Harry's shoulder as she laughed.

Blaise slid dramatically down the side of Theo's bed, pointing at him with tears running down his face.

Even Professor McGonagall, who happened to be walking past the doorway at that exact moment, paused and hid what looked suspiciously like the beginning of a smile before continuing on as though she'd seen nothing.

Theo groaned. "I hate all of you."

Hermione was laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. "It wasn't funny at the time."

"It absolutely was," Blaise wheezed.

"No," Theo argued. "It was trying to kill me!"

"It was an owl."

"It had attitude."

"It was still an owl."

"It had claws!"

"It weighed about three pounds."

"It felt heavier when it hit me!"

Another round of laughter echoed through the hospital wing.

Hermione shook her head. "I promise I'll put the memory in the Pensieve as soon as I'm back in the dorm."

Theo looked horrified. "No."

"Oh yes."

"No."

"Oh absolutely." She folded her arms smugly. "This deserves to be preserved for future generations."

Harry grinned. "The History of Theo Nott versus One Angry Owl."

"I won."

"You punched a bird."

"I survived."

"Congratulations."

"You lot are unbelievable."

The laughter slowly died down, leaving behind something the group hadn't truly felt in what seemed like forever.

Normality.

Just for a few minutes. No monsters. No screaming. No running for their lives.

Just friends teasing each other.

It felt...nice.

The previous night had been a blur. After finally escaping the underground nightmare beneath Hogwarts, the injured had been rushed straight to the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey hadn't taken no for an answer.

Theo. Hermione. Sloane.

All three had been admitted immediately.

Hermione's injuries had thankfully been the least severe. A collection of cuts. Bruises. Several deep scrapes. A badly sprained wrist. Exhaustion.

Theo had fared only slightly worse. His encounter with Euan and the creatures had left him battered from head to toe, and Madam Pomfrey had diagnosed him with a mild concussion after he'd insisted there were "at least four Harry Potters" standing beside his bed.