Infinite Magic (Male Reader x Harry Potter)

Flight of the Fat Lady

YN: Here you go, man.  We got as much as we could carry.

A shower of brilliantly colored sweets fell into Harry's lap.  It was dusk, and Ron, Hermione, Ava, and I had just turned up in the common room.

Harry: Thanks.  What's Hogsmeade like?  Where did you go?

We told him everything.  Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot butterbeer, and many places besides.

Hermione: The post office, Harry!  About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all color coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!

YN: Honeydukes has got a new kind of fudge, they were giving out free samples.  I got you some.

Ava: We think we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks.

Ron: Wish we could have brought you some butterbeer, really warms you up.

Hermione: What did you do?  Did you get any work done?

Harry: No.  Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office.  And then Snape came in...

He told us all about the potion Snape had brought my uncle.  Ron's mouth fell open.

Ava: And Lupin drank it?

Ron: Is he mad?

YN: No, he's not.

Everyone turned to me.

YN: He's had this illness for years, it's uncurable.  I'd tell you what it is, but it's not my place.  He knows the potion well, so if he didn't react then what Snape gave him was safe, trust me.

Hermione checked her watch.

Hermione: We'd better go down, you know, the feast'll be starting in five minutes.

We hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, still discussing Snape.  We passed Hana on the way there, and I gave her the bag of sweets I'd gotten her from Honeydukes.  She grinned and hugged me, before running to catch up with her friends.

YN: Besides, if he was trying to poison Uncle Remus he wouldn't have done it in front of Harry.

Harry: Yeah, maybe.

We reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall.  It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant water snakes.  The food was delicious.  Even though we were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, we managed second helpings of everything.  Sure enough, up at the staff table.  Sure enough, Professor Lupin looked cheerful and healthy.  The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts.  They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding.  Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched be heading.  We followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower that night, but when we reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, we found it jammed with students.

Ava: Why isn't anyone going in?

Percy: Let me through, please.  What's the holdup here?  You can't all have forgotten the password, excuse me, I'm Head Boy-

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor.

Percy: Somebody get Professor Dumbledore.  Quick.

People's heads turned.  Those at the back were standing on tiptoe.

Ginny: What's going on?

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait.  The Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and we moved closer to see what the trouble was.

Hermione: Oh, my...

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor.  Huge chunks of it had been torn away completely.  Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.

Dumbledore: We need to find her.  Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady.

Peeves: You'll be lucky!

It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.

Dumbledore: What do you mean, Peeves?

Peeves's grin faded a little.  He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore.  Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle.

Peeves: Ashamed, your headship, sir.  Doesn't want to be seen.  She's a horrible mess.  Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees.  Crying something dreadful.  Poor thing.

He sounded as though he was fighting back laughter.

Dumbledore: Did she say who did it?

Peeves: Oh yes, Professor.  He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see.

Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs.

Peeves: Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."