Suffocating In Darkness

Chapter 12

We had Herbology first thing the following morning. Harry had been unable to tell us about his lesson with Dumbledore over breakfast for fear of being overheard, but he filled us in as they walked across the vegetable patch toward the greenhouses, it was the same as mine, but separated. The weekend's brutal wind had died out at last; the weird mist had returned and it took them a little longer than usual to find the correct greenhouse.

"Wow, scary thought, the boy You-Know-Who," said Ron quietly, as we took our places around one of the gnarled Snargaluff stumps that formed this term's project, and began pulling on our protective gloves. "But I still don't get why Dumbledore's showing you all this. I mean, it's really interesting and everything, but what's the point?"

"Dunno," said Harry, inserting a gum shield. "But he says its all important and it'll help me survive."

"I just don't get why he saw you both separately." Oliver said. "You both saw the same thing right?"

"I think it's fascinating," said Hermione earnestly. "It makes absolute sense to know as much about Voldemort as possible. How else will you find out his weaknesses?"

"So how was Slughorn's latest party?" Harry asked us thickly through the gum shield.

"Oh, it was quite fun, really," Lyra said, now putting on protective goggles. "I mean, he drones on about famous exploits a bit, and he absolutely fawns on McLaggen because he's so well connected, Oliver because you seem to know him and Minnie because she was the only 'Chosen one' there, but he gave us some really nice food and he introduced us to Gwenog Jones."

"Gwenog Jones?" said Ron, his eyes widening under his own goggles. "The Gwenog Jones? Captain of the Holyhead Harpies?"

"That's right," said Hermione. "Personally, I thought she was a bit full of herself, but --"

"Quite enough chat over here!" said Professor Sprout briskly, bustling over and looking stern. "You're lagging behind, everybody else has started, and Neville's already got his first pod!"

We looked around; sure enough, there sat Neville with a bloody lip and several nasty scratches along the side of his face, but clutching an unpleasantly pulsating green object about the size of a grapefruit.

"Okay, Professor, we're starting now!" said Ron, adding quietly, when she had turned away again, "Should've used Muffliato, Harry."

"No, we shouldn't!" said Hermione at once, looking, as she always did, intensely cross at the thought of the Half-Blood Prince and his spells. "Well, come on ... we'd better get going..."

She gave us other five an apprehensive look; we all took deep breaths and then dived at the gnarled stump between us.

It sprang to life at once; long, prickly, bramble-like vines flew out of the top and whipped through the air. One tangled itself in Hermione's hair, Lyra had one climbing up her sleeve, and Oliver and Ron beat it back with a pair of secateurs; Harry succeeded in trapping a couple of vines and knotting them together; a hole opened in the middle of all the tentacle-like branches; I plunged my arm bravely into this hole, which closed like a trap around my elbow; the others tugged and wrenched at the vines, forcing the hole to open again, and I snatched my arm free, clutching in my fingers a pod just like Neville's. At once, the prickly vines shot back inside, and the gnarled stump sat there looking like an innocently dead lump of wood.

"You know, I don't think I'll be having any of these in my garden when I've got my own place," said Ron, pushing his goggles up onto his forehead and wiping sweat from his face.

"Pass me a bowl," I said, holding the pulsating pod at arm's length; Oliver handed one over and I dropped the pod into it with a look of disgust on my face.