The Art of Secrets

Chapter Five: Business as Usual

Everyone was sat at the Gryffindor table when Erica arrived in the Great Hall, and she joined them without much fuss, Draco and Harry not long behind her. Hermione was ignoring everyone, Voyages with Vampires propped open on the milk jug as she read, and she barely acknowledged Erica as she sat down beside her. She didn't mind so much, knowing what it was like to get lost in a book, though she couldn't fathom what was so interesting about one of Lockhart's tales.

"How are you?" She finally whispered over to Ron, tired of the silence that fell as soon as she sat down, Draco settling down beside her and helping himself to some of the kippers set in the centre of the table, filling Erica's plate with pancakes and syrup as he sorted himself out and pouring both of their goblets full with pumpkin juice.

"Great," Ron grinned at her, "Everyone was talking about how wicked it was, and we had a right celebration until Percy got fed up and sent everyone to bed. How was everything on your end?"

He directed that last part at Harry, who shrugged as he said, "Had a quiet one. I still can't believe we crashed into the Whomping Willow of all trees-"

"You what?" Erica hissed, setting down the goblet she had just picked up, "How did I not here about this before now? Do you realise how fragile the Whomping Willow is?"

"Precisely because we knew you would react like that," Ron groaned, picking at his own breakfast of eggs and bacon, "We've had enough of this from McGonagall, Snape and Hermione. Even Dumbledore got involved."

"Post should be here soon," Neville chimed in, effectively changing the topic as Hermione glanced up at Ron sharply, having been listening in on the conversation despite giving the appearance of not paying attention, "I think Gran will have packed some of the things I forgot."

Sure enough the owls soon swooped into the Great Hall in swarms, a rather lumpy package being dropped in front of Neville, and Draco cursed as a small grey thing landed in the jug next to him, making him jump. Ron fished it out, and what turned out to be a small owl slumped unconscious onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope held in its beak.

Not soon after Hedwig, Harry's owl, swooped down to perch on the jug that Ron's owl- Errol, he provided as he cursed the thing himself, poking him with the end of his finger until he stirred and fluttered closer- hooting balefully.

It was when they noticed that the red envelope Errol had in his clutches began to smoke and curl around the edges that they realised what it was, and Ron hastily took it away from the owl and laid it on the table before it could hurt him, ears turning red.

"You're going to have to open it," Draco peered over, crinkling his nose in distaste, "It will only be worse if you don't."

"That's a Howler, Ron," Neville cringed backwards, looking rather pale himself, "You best open it. Gran sent me one once, and it was horrible."

"Okay, okay," Ron grumbled, gingerly picking up the envelope as the smoking grew worse, and simultaneously everyone raised their hands to cover their ears, leaving Hermione glancing around curiously at the others odd behaviour.

She soon understood, however, as Mrs Weasley's screeching voice filled the hall, a hundred times louder than she had been in person. "...STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE..."

Erica cringed, hiding her face in Draco's shoulder as the shouting continued. She had never been a fan of loud noises, and Howlers were pretty much the worse when it came to that, though it must have been nothing compared to what Ron was feeling in that moment as he sank down on the bench until only the tips of his burning, red ears and bright red shock of hair could be seen.