The Potter Twins and the Chamber of Secrets

XI

The next day, however, none of us grinned once. As soon as I woke up things started to go downhill: Ron's wand remained broken, a collosal bruise had decided to form on my forehead, and, at breakfast, there were no hash browns. (Not really a deathly crisis, but, with my throbbing headache, I really needed those hash browns). Will took great pleasure in 'accidentally' nudging me into the wall on the way down and I nearly tore his head off when he insisted on reading Voyages With Vampires in an irritatingly loud voice as I tried to shut the noise of eight hundred people eating breakfast out of my head.

Usually, Hermione might have stopped Will from being unnecessarily annoying, but the way in which she ate breakfast in an unusually silent way indicated that she still disapproved of our antics the night before. However, Neville seemed far more cheerful than anyone had the right to be, in my opinion, and happily announced that the post would be due any minute. "I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot."

Ron momentarily cheered up at the thought of laughing at some ridiculous article in the Daily Prophet, but froze in terror as soon as Errol crash-landed into a plate of bacon, sending me into a coughing fit as I swallowed a mouthful of porridge at the same time as half of his feathers. Hermione poked the owl's side and said, "don't worry, I think he's still alive," but Ron couldn't seem to hear her. He was staring in horror at a bright red envelope in Errol's beak and Neville and Will were equally on edge; they looked at it like it was about to explode. "What's the problem?" Harry asked. I was too busy trying not to throw up at the dozens of feathers I'd inhaled to speak. 

"She's sent me a Howler," Ron said faintly, looking like he was going to pass out from fear.

"Better if you open it, Ron," Neville advised nervously. "I ignored one once - worst moment of my life..."

Ron's shaking finger inched towards the envelope. He hesitantly broke the wax seal as Neville and Will clamped their hands over their ears. One second later, the hall exploded with sound. Dust fell from the ceiling and into my porridge. I was not feeling the love from my surroundings this morning.

"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 WAS GONE —"

Mrs Weasley's voice, amplified to one hundred times louder than usual, echoed around the hall. Plates and spoons rattled as Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen. 

"— LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU, SAM AND HARRY COULD ALL HAVE DIED —"

I had been wondering when my name would crop up and by the look on Harry's face he had been thinking the same. We both pretended to be very interested in the tablecloth all of a sudden and tried to make it seem as if we couldn't hear the voice that would no doubt be giving everyone present earache for the next twenty-four hours.

"— ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

A deafening silence spread across the hall as the envelope burst into flames. There were a few laughs but slowly everyone began to return to their original conversations and the usual chatter had overtaken the sound of Ron's terrified panting. He looked like he'd just run a marathon and he remained low in his chair as Hermione lowered her spoon and said, "Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but-"

Ron sat up furiously. "Don't tell me I deserved it."

My insides burned with guilt and I knew Harry was feeling the same. What if Mr Weasley lost his job? After everything they'd done for us over the summer...

Thankfully, Professor McGonagall gave us no time to dwell on this because she slapped a timetable in front of each of us before I could even consider writing an apology. Will moaned as soon as she was gone, "double Herbology... why, first thing on a Monday..."

We left the castle together in the end, heading for the greenhouses where we had our first lesson with the Hufflepuffs. At least one good thing had come out of breakfast: Hermione had clearly decided that the Howler was punishment enough and was being friendly again. She even offered to help fix my headache, but I chivalrously declined on the grounds that an unhealthy amount of porridge at breakfast (albeit mixed with feathers and ceiling dust) had started to make me feel better.

Professor Sprout was waiting outside the greenhouse, but much to our distaste, Gilderoy Lockhart was there as well. He was looking irritatingly immaculate in turquoise robes and gave a half-amused, half-disgusted glance at Ron's dust-coated hair as we arrived, tailed by a couple of Hufflepuffs. "Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, not looking her usual cheerful self. Lockhart's presence indicated that he'd been spouting some of his apparently endless knowledge to the Herbology Professor and I suspected that his voice was what had made Sprout rather irritable.

A murmer of interest spread through the waiting students at the mention of Greenhouse Three, which housed far more interesting and dangerous plants than Greenhouses One and Two which were all we'd been in during First Year. Harry and I were just about to follow the others inside when Lockhart grabbed Harry's arm. "Harry! I've been wanting a word - you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you Professor Sprout?"

Judging by Professor Sprout's face, she minded very much, but she herded the rest of the students inside. "Don't worry," I said acidly, "I'll just go with her." Harry glared at me as I followed everyone into the Greenhouse. Outside, I could see Lockhart shaking his head at Harry, but I couldn't hear a word as Professor Sprout handed out earmuffs and waited for the class to settle down. Harry slid in a couple of minutes later and stood next to Ron and Hermione; he looked to be in a foul mood and scowled as Sprout started to speak. "We'll be re-potting mandrakes today," she said cheerfully. "Now, who can tell me the properties of a mandrake?"

Hermione's hand, to the surprise of absolutely nobody, was the first into the air. "Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," she said, sounding, as usual, as though she had swallowed the textbook. "It is used to return to those who have been cursed, or transfigured to their original state."

Professor Sprout looked pleased. "Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor.  Yes, the Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is, however, dangerous. Does anyone know why?"

Hermione almost slapped Harry as her hand shot up again, no doubt improving his mood. "The cry of the mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," she said dramatically.