Adventures of Harriet Potter

Luna Lovegood

Harriet had a troubled night's sleep. Her parents and herself having a baby wove in and out of her dreams, never speaking; Mrs. Weasley sobbed over Kreacher's dead body watched by Ron and Hermione, who were wearing crowns, and yet again Harriet found herself walking down a corridor ending in a locked door. She awoke abruptly with her scar prickling to find Ron already dressed and talking to him. ". . . better hurry up, Mum's going ballistic, she says we're going to miss the train . . ." There was a lot of commotion in the house. From what she heard as she dressed at top speed, Harriet gathered that Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them, with the result that they had hurtled straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs into the hall; Mrs. Black and Mrs. Weasley were both screaming at the top of their voices. "— COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS —"
"— FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS —" Hermione came hurrying into the room looking flustered just as Harriet was putting on her trainers; Hedwig was swaying on her shoulder, and she was carrying a squirming Crookshanks in her arms. "Mum and Dad just sent Hedwig back" — the owl fluttered obligingly over and perched on top of her cage — "are you ready yet?"
"Nearly — Ginny all right?" Harriet asked, shoving on her glasses. "Mrs. Weasley's patched her up," said Hermione. "But now Mad-Eye's complaining that we can't leave unless Sturgis Podmore's here, otherwise the guard will be one short." That was interesting news. "Guard?" said Harriet. "We have to go to King's Cross with a guard?" Feeling incensed. "You have to go to King's Cross with a guard," Hermione corrected her. "Why?" said Harriet irritably. "I thought Voldemort was supposed to be lying low, or are you telling me he's going to jump out from behind a dustbin to try and do me in?"
"I don't know, it's just what Mad-Eye says," said Hermione distractedly, looking at her watch. "But if we don't leave soon we're definitely going to miss the train . . ." Harriet shuddered at the idea of missing the train. "WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!" Mrs. Weasley bellowed and Hermione jumped as though scalded and hurried out of the room. Harriet seized Hedwig, stuffed her unceremoniously into her cage, and set off downstairs after Hermione, dragging her trunk. Mrs. Black's portrait was howling with rage but nobody was bothering to close the curtains over her; all the noise in the hall was bound to rouse her again anyway.
"Harriet, you're to come with me and Tonks," shouted Mrs. Weasley over the repeated screeches of "MUDBLOODS! SCUM! CREATURES OF DIRT!" "Leave your trunk and your owl, Alastor's going to deal with the luggage. . . . Oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!" A bearlike black dog had appeared at Harriet's side as Harriet clambered over the various trunks cluttering the hall to get to Mrs. Weasley. "Oh honestly . . ." said Mrs. Weasley despairingly, "well, on your own head be it!" She wrenched open the front door and stepped out into the weak September sunlight. Harriet and the dog followed her. The door slammed behind them and Mrs. Black's screeches were cut off instantly.
"Where's Tonks?" Harriet said, looking around as they went down the stone steps of number twelve, which vanished the moment they reached the pavement. "She's waiting for us just up here," said Mrs. Weasley stiffly, averting her eyes from the lolloping black dog beside Harriet. An old woman greeted them on the corner. She had tightly curled gray hair and wore a purple hat shaped like a porkpie. "Wotcher, Harriet," she said, winking. "Better hurry up, hadn't we, Molly?" she added, checking her watch. "I know, I know," moaned Mrs. Weasley, lengthening her stride, "but Mad-Eye wanted to wait for Sturgis. . . . If only Arthur could have got us cars from the Ministry again . . . but Fudge wouldn't let him borrow so much as an empty ink bottle these days. . . . How Muggles can stand traveling without magic . . ."
But the great black dog gave a joyful bark and gamboled around them, snapping at pigeons, and chasing its own tail. Harriet couldn't help laughing. Sirius had been trapped inside for a very long time. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips in an almost Aunt Petunia-ish way. It took them twenty minutes to reach King's Cross by foot and nothing more eventful happened during that time than Sirius scaring a couple of cats for Harriet's entertainment. Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through onto platform nine and three quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stood belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families.
Harriet inhaled the familiar smell and felt her spirits soar despite feeling like she was about to puke or collapse in exhaustion. . . . She was really going back. . . . "I hope the others make it in time," said Mrs. Weasley anxiously, staring behind her at the wrought-iron arch spanning the platform, through which new arrivals would come. "Nice dog, Harriet!" called a tall boy with dreadlocks. "Thanks, Lee," said Harriet, grinning, as Sirius wagged his tail frantically. "Oh good," said Mrs. Weasley, sounding relieved, "here's Alastor with the luggage, look . . ."
A porter's cap pulled low over his mismatched eyes, Moody came limping through the archway pushing a cart full of their trunks. "All okay," he muttered to Mrs. Weasley and Tonks. "Don't think we were followed . . ." Seconds later, Mr. Weasley emerged onto the platform with Ron and Hermione. They had almost unloaded Moody's luggage cart when Fred, George, and Ginny turned up with Lupin. "No trouble?" growled Moody. "Nothing," said Lupin. "I'll still be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore," said Moody. "That's the second time he's not turned up in a week. Getting as unreliable as Mundungus."
"Well, look after yourselves," said Lupin, shaking hands all round. He reached Harriet last and gave her a clap on the shoulder. "You too, Harriet. Be careful." he said. "Yeah, keep your head down and your eyes peeled," said Moody, shaking Harriet's hand too. "And don't forget, all of you — careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don't put it in a letter at all."
"It's been great meeting all of you," said Tonks, hugging Hermione and Ginny. "We'll see you soon, I expect." A warning whistle sounded; the students still on the platform started hurrying onto the train. "Quick, quick," said Mrs. Weasley distractedly, hugging them at random and catching Harriet twice. "Write . . . Be good. . . . If you've forgotten anything we'll send it on. . . . Onto the train, now, hurry . . ." For one brief moment, the great black dog reared onto its hind legs and placed its front paws on Harriet's shoulders, but Mrs. Weasley shoved Harriet away toward the train door hissing, "For heaven's sake act more like a dog, Sirius!"
"See you!" Harriet called out of the open window as the train began to move, while Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waved beside her. The figures of Tonks, Lupin, Moody, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shrank rapidly but the black dog was bounding alongside the window, wagging its tail; blurred people on the platform were laughing to see it chasing the train, and then they turned the corner, and Sirius was gone. "He shouldn't have come with us," said Hermione in a worried voice. "Oh lighten up," said Ron, "he hasn't seen daylight for months, poor bloke."
"Well," said Fred, clapping his hands together, "can't stand around chatting all day, we've got business to discuss with Lee. See you later," and he and George disappeared down the corridor to the right. The train was gathering still more speed, so that the houses outside the window flashed past and they swayed where they stood. "Shall we go and find a compartment, then?" Harriet asked Ron and Hermione. Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. "Er," said Ron. "We're — well — Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect carriage," Hermione said awkwardly. Ron wasn't looking at Harriet; he seemed to have become intensely interested in the fingernails on his left hand. "Oh," said Harriet. "Right. Fine."
"I don't think we'll have to stay there all journey," said Hermione quickly. "Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time." Sounding like she was trying to comfort her. "Fine," said Harriet again. "Well, I-I might see you later, then."
"Yeah, definitely," said Ron, casting a shifty, anxious look at Harriet. "It's a pain having to go down there, I'd rather — but we have to — I mean, I'm not enjoying it, I'm not Percy," he finished defiantly. "I know you're not," said Harriet and she grinned. But as Hermione and Ron dragged their trunks, Crookshanks, and a caged Pigwidgeon off toward the engine end of the train, Harriet felt an odd sense of loss. She had never traveled on the Hogwarts Express without Ron. "Come on," Ginny told her, "if we get a move on we'll be able to save them places."
"Right," said Harriet, picking up Hedwig's cage in one hand and the handle of her trunk in the other. They struggled off down the corridor, peering through the glass-paneled doors into the compartments they passed, which were already full. Harriet could not help noticing that a lot of people stared back at her with great interest and that several of them nudged their neighbors and pointed her out. After she had met this behavior in five consecutive carriages she remembered that the Daily Prophet had been telling its readers all summer what a lying show-off she was. She wondered bleakly whether the people now staring and whispering believed the stories.
In the very last carriage they met Neville Longbottom, Harriet's fellow fifth-year Gryffindor, his round face shining with the effort of pulling his trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor. "Hi, Harry," he panted. "Hi, Ginny. . . . Everywhere's full. . . . I can't find a seat . . ."
"What are you talking about?" said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. "There's room in this one, there's only Loony Lovegood in here —" Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone. "Don't be silly," said Ginny, laughing, "she's all right." She slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside it. Harriet and Neville followed. "Hi, Luna," said Ginny. "Is it okay if we take these seats?" The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harriet knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harriet. She nodded.
"Thanks," said Ginny, smiling at her. Harriet and Neville stowed the three trunks and Hedwig's cage in the luggage rack and sat down. The girl called Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She did not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans. She stared and stared at Harriet, who had taken the seat opposite her and now wished she had not. "Had a good summer, Luna?" Ginny asked. "Yes," said Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off Harriet. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Harriet Potter," she added. "I know I am," said Harriet. Neville chuckled. Luna turned her pale eyes upon him instead. "And I don't know who you are." she said. "I'm nobody," said Neville hurriedly. "No you're not," said Ginny sharply. "Neville Longbottom — Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."
"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," said Luna in a singsong voice. She raised her upside-down magazine high enough to hide her face and fell silent. Harriet and Neville looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. Ginny suppressed a giggle. The train rattled onward, speeding them out into open country. It was an odd, unsettled sort of day; one moment the carriage was full of sunlight and the next they were passing beneath ominously gray clouds. "Guess what I got for my birthday?" said Neville.
"Another Remembrall?" said Harriet, remembering the marblelike device Neville's grandmother had sent him in an effort to improve his abysmal memory. "No," said Neville, "I could do with one, though, I lost the old one ages ago. . . . No, look at this . . ." He dug the hand that was not keeping a firm grip on Trevor into his schoolbag and after a little bit of rummaging pulled out what appeared to be a small gray cactus in a pot, except that it was covered with what looked like boils rather than spines. "Mimbulus mimbletonia," he said proudly.
Harriet stared at the thing. It was pulsating slightly, giving it the rather sinister look of some diseased internal organ. "It's really, really rare," said Neville, beaming. "I don't know if there's one in the greenhouse at Hogwarts, even. I can't wait to show it to Professor Sprout. My great-uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I'm going to see if I can breed from it." Harriet knew that Neville's favorite subject was Herbology, but for the life of her she could not see what he would want with this stunted little plant. "Does it — er — do anything?" she asked. "Loads of stuff!" said Neville proudly. "It's got an amazing defensive mechanism — hold Trevor for me . . ."
He dumped the toad into Harriet's lap and took a quill from his schoolbag. Luna Lovegood's popping eyes appeared over the top of her upside-down magazine again, watching what Neville was doing. Neville held the Mimbulus mimbletonia up to his eyes, his tongue between his teeth, chose his spot, and gave the plant a sharp prod with the tip of his quill. Liquid squirted from every boil on the plant, thick, stinking, dark-green jets of it; they hit the ceiling, the windows, and spattered Luna Lovegood's magazine. Ginny, who had flung her arms up in front of her face just in time, merely looked as though she was wearing a slimy green hat, but Harriet, whose hands had been busy preventing the escape of Trevor, received a face full. It smelled like rancid manure.
Neville, whose face and torso were also drenched, shook his head to get the worst out of his eyes. "S-sorry," he gasped. "I haven't tried that before. . . . Didn't realize it would be quite so . . . Don't worry, though, Stinksap's not poisonous," he added nervously, as Harriet spat a mouthful onto the floor. At that precise moment the door of their compartment slid open. "Oh . . . hello, Harriet," said a nervous voice. "Um . . . bad time?" Harriet wiped the lenses of her glasses with her Trevor-free hand. A very pretty girl with long, shiny black hair was standing in the doorway smiling at her: Cho Chang, the Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.
"Oh . . . hi," said Harriet blankly. "Um . . ." said Cho. "Well . . . just thought I'd say hello . . . 'bye then." She closed the door again, rather pink in the face, and departed. Harriet slumped back in her seat and groaned. She would have liked Cho to discover her sitting with a group of very cool people laughing their heads off at a joke she had just told; she would not have chosen to be sitting with Neville and Loony Lovegood, clutching a toad and dripping in Stinksap — even though she knew from Cho telling her personally that she wasn't interested in girls in that manner.
"Never mind," said Ginny bracingly. "Look, we can get rid of all this easily." She pulled out her wand. "Scourgify!" The Stinksap vanished. "Sorry," said Neville again, in a small voice. Ron and Hermione did not turn up for nearly an hour, by which time the food trolley had already gone by. Harriet, Ginny, and Neville had finished their Pumpkin Pasties and were busy swapping Chocolate Frog cards when the compartment door slid open and they walked in, accompanied by Crookshanks and a shrilly hooting Pigwidgeon in his cage.
"I'm starving," said Ron, stowing Pigwidgeon next to Hedwig, grabbing a Chocolate Frog from Harriet and throwing himself into the seat next to him. He ripped open the wrapper, bit off the Frog's head, and leaned back with his eyes closed as though he had had a very exhausting morning. "Well, as usual there are two fifth-year prefects from each House," said Hermione, looking thoroughly disgruntled as she took her seat. "Boy and girl from each."
"And guess who's a Slytherin prefect?" said Ron, still with his eyes closed. "Malfoy," replied Harriet at once, her second worst fear confirmed. "'Course," said Ron bitterly, stuffing the rest of the Frog into his mouth and taking another. "And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson," said Hermione viciously. "How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll . . ."
"Who's Hufflepuff?" Harriet asked. "Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," said Ron thickly. "And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," said Hermione. "You went to the Yule Ball with Harriet Potter when Padma Patil wanted you to take her," said a vague voice. Everyone turned to look at Luna Lovegood, who was gazing unblinkingly at Ron over the top of The Quibbler. He swallowed his mouthful of Frog. "Yeah, I know I did," he said, looking mildly surprised. "Padma didn't enjoy it very much," Luna informed him. "She doesn't think you treated her very well, because you wouldn't dance with her. I don't think I'd have minded," she added thoughtfully, "I don't like dancing very much."
She retreated behind The Quibbler again. Ron stared at the cover with his mouth hanging open for a few seconds, then looked around at Ginny for some kind of explanation, but Ginny had stuffed her knuckles in her mouth to stop herself giggling. Ron shook his head, bemused, then checked his watch. "We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often," he told Harry and Neville, "and we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something . . ."
"You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!" said Hermione sharply. "Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse it at all," said Ron sarcastically. "So you're going to descend to his level?" she snapped. "No, I'm just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine." he retorted. "For heaven's sake, Ron —" said Hermione throwing her hands into the air. "I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle's low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. "I . . . must . . . not . . . look . . . like . . . a . . . baboon's . . . backside . . ."
Everyone laughed, but nobody laughed harder than Luna Lovegood. She let out a scream of mirth that caused Hedwig to wake up and flap her wings indignantly and Crookshanks to leap up into the luggage rack, hissing. She laughed so hard that her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs, and onto the floor. "That was funny!" Her prominent eyes swam with tears as she gasped for breath, staring at Ron. Utterly nonplussed, he looked around at the others, who were now laughing at the expression on Ron's face and at the ludicrously prolonged laughter of Luna Lovegood, who was rocking backward and forward, clutching her sides.
"Are you taking the mickey?" said Ron, frowning at her. "Baboon's . . . backside!" she choked, holding her ribs. Everyone else was watching Luna laughing, but Harriet, glancing at the magazine on the floor, noticed something that made her dive for it. Upside down it had been hard to tell what the picture on the front was, but Harriet now realized it was a fairly bad cartoon of Cornelius Fudge; Harriet only recognized him because of the lime-green bowler hat. One of Fudge's hands was clenched around a bag of gold; the other hand was throttling a goblin. The cartoon was captioned: HOW FAR WILL FUDGE GO TO GAIN GRINGOTTS? Beneath this were listed the titles of other articles inside the magazine.