When Fire Meets Gasoline | Wizarding World

chapter twenty-three | the morning after

The next morning, when the four met up for breakfast in the Great Hall, it seemed like no one got a wink of sleep. Oliver took notice of this when he saw his friends practically dragging themselves to their seats. He, too, could also feel his feet sliding along the floor as he walked this morning.

During breakfast, everyone was quiet. It was strange, but given the circumstances, it made sense as to why no one wanted to speak. Emotions were still running high from the night before, the suspense of what Jacob and Ron's condition would be this morning was all they could think about.

"Both of them are fine," Violet spoke up in a reassuring tone. "If they were both stable last night, then surely they're okay this morning."

Let's hope that's the case, Oliver thought. He had hope, but still, anything could happen overnight.

The rest of breakfast went by quickly, then the group of friends headed out of the Great Hall and hurried to the Hospital Wing. Harry and Hermione were already there, along with Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Professor Snape, and Professor Slughorn.

"Are they okay?" Andrew asked. "Jacob, is he--"

"He's fine," Professor Sprout told him. "He's sleeping right now."

They looked over to see a sleeping Jacob, his breathing even, looking peaceful. A wave of relief went over Oliver and his friends, happy to know that Jacob would be okay.

Violet pulled up a chair and stared at her boyfriend, gently placing her hand on top of his. "Thank Merlin you'll be okay," she muttered.

"Quick thinking on your part, Harry, using a bezoar," Dumbledore praised him, then turning to the Potions teacher. "You must be very proud of your student, Horace."

"Oh, yes, very proud," he replied, nodding his head.

"Wait, you saved them?" Eliza asked Harry.

He nodded sheepishly in response. "Yeah, I did."

Andrew's expression turned into a surprised one. "Bloody hell," he added in a mumble.

"I think we agree that Potter's actions were heroic," McGonagall commented. "The question is, why were they necessary?"

"Why, indeed?" He paused, observing the bottle. "This bottle appears to be a gift, Horace. You don't remember who gave it to you? Which, by the way, possesses remarkably subtle hints of licorice and cherry. But when not polluted with poison."

"I had intended to give it as a gift myself," Slughorn confessed.

"To whom, might I ask?"

He paused for a moment, looking up at Dumbledore. "To you, Headmaster."

While everyone was processing this information, all of a sudden, among the quiet, the sound of Lavender's voice broke it. "Where is he?! Where's my Won-Won?! Has he been asking for me?!" She looked at Hermione. "What's she doing here?"

Hermione looked offended. "I might ask you the same question!" she snapped, shooting up from her chair.

"I happen to be his girlfriend!"

"I happen to be his...his friend."

Lavender scoffed. "Don't make me laugh! You two haven't spoken in weeks! I suppose you want to make up with him now that he's all interesting!"

"He's been poisoned, you daft dimbo! And for the record, I've always found him interesting!"

Ron started to stir in his sleep, causing everyone to focus their eyes on him.