ALLY PEEKED IN her cauldron, the blue-colored potion simmering and letting off pink steam. Madam Pomfrey wasn't around as she had been busy collecting plants grown by Professor Sprout, leaving Ally in charge. Thankfully, it had been a quiet afternoon until Hermione Granger barged in, painful boils forming on her hands. Apparently, someone had sent her a letter with an undiluted bubotuber pus.
"What happened?" she asked, now a vial in her hand and sitting on the stool next to Hermione's bed. The girl sighed, her bushy hair propped against the wall, "It's that foul woman, Rita Skeeter." Hermione replied.
She stared narrowly at the empty room, "You know she did that article in Witch Weekly? Because, supposedly, I'm a 'plain but ambitious girl, who seems to have a taste for famous wizards'" she huffed, now visibly annoyed despite the initial indifference she had for such an obnoxious article a woman like Skeeter puts out.
Hermione stared at the blue potion, staring at Ally, as if measuring her, then with a dejected sigh, gulped the cure for boils down. "I've been receiving these hate letters," she continued, wincing from the taste. "And that god-awful Pansy Parkinson isn't any better." she continued on her rant.
"Thanks, Alvona." Hermione said, falling back on her pillow and staring absentmindedly at the ceiling.
Ally took out a roll of cloth and moved closer to the girl, placing Hermione's hand on her lap. "Ow," Hermione winced at the sudden contact of the fabric on her hand. Ally stopped, staring up at her and muttering a quiet apology before continuing gently.
"Aren't you missing a class?" asked Hermione, staring intently at her hands carefully wrapped in the cloth doused with Dittany.
Ally chuckled and said, "I dropped out of Divination."
"I did that too," said Hermione, smiling at the memory of her vexation over Professor Trelawney. "So you only have two electives?"
Ally nodded, taking her other hand on her lap. "I don't feel any need for it," she said quietly. Hermione narrowed her eyes, forcing Ally to defend her answer. Shrugging, she said, "Well, I'm never interested in anything," she said truthfully.
"Other than this, I take it," Hermione said, putting her hands up and staring at the bandage. She forced herself up, "I'm going to Hagrid's class." she said. "Thanks, Ally, really," Hermione repeated, smiling at the girl before leaving the room.
Madam Pomfrey rushed inside, carrying bags made out of muslin, some slinging over her shoulders. "I should've asked you to come," she said regretfully, her feet shuffling around and placing the sacks on the floor. "Was that Miss Granger?" she asked, looking back at the entrance.
"She touched an undiluted bubotuber pus," Ally explained, helping the Matron. "Are those all for the third task?" she asked, seeing the variety of ingredients, some familiar and some unknown to her. "It must be really serious, then?"
Madam Pomfrey nodded, "It's a congregation of all the dangerous creatures in the world." she opened another bag. "Imagine the Forbidden Forest, but concentrated." she sighed, massaging her temples and falling onto her chair. "I don't know why Professor Dumbledore allows it, really. . ."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
