Today Madam Pomfrey finished her examinations and had decided rather reluctantly that I could return to the Gryffindor common room. “But I don’t think any of us will be here much longer,” she said as a floating quill checked off the final box on a floating scroll. “With all that’s happened...”
We both looked at all the Petrified students lined up in the beds all around me. It had been so odd, being the only one there. It was so lonely and glum, being all by myself with no one to talk to, the beds filled with statue people.
“I’m sure it’s very hard, especially for you first years, your first year at Hogwarts cut short like this.” I didn’t say anything. I could only stare at Hermione, mirror clutched in hand and her other curled into a fist. I wondered how Alnair could be so thick. How could anyone wish such a horrid fate on people like Hermione and Colin? Colin was the name of the boy with the camera, I’d learned.
Madam Pomfrey sauntered off to check on other patients, and I slid out of my bed, thrilled to finally go to the Gryffindor common room, even if it was only for a day.
“Cressida? It’s Percy, one of your Gryffindor Prefects, here to escort you back to the common room.” He cleared his throat and straightened his back, puffing out his chest and showing off his Prefect badge, though he seemed less pompous than he had on the first day. I thought I’d heard a rumor that he was dating the Ravenclaw girl who’d been Petrified, and I supposed this may have been the reason.
“I’m sure this has all been quite overwhelming, what with you falling ill and all this wretchedness. Has it been unsettling?”
“Yes,” I replied. I looked over at Hermione one last time, and for the first time noticed a piece of paper poking out of Hermione’s clenched stone fist. “Percy! Has Hermione got something in her hand?”
“Why, yes, of course. A mirror. I heard some of the professors discussing it; they aren’t sure if it means anything at all, though Dumbledore did find it rather intriguing—”
“No! The paper! In her other hand!”
Percy raised an eyebrow, then squinted at Hermione’s hand. “Bloody hell,” he whispered. He rushed over to her and I followed, when Professor McGonagall rushed into the Hospital Wing calling Percy’s name fervently.
“Professor!” He turned to face her.
“It’s urgent, Weasley! We need to have a discussion, somewhere private. Come along! You too, Miss Foxglove, you should be with the other Gryffindors, we need to get you somewhere safe right away.”
“But Professor—” “No time, Miss Foxglove! Right away!” “Professor, please—” “This is no time for arguments.” I knew it was no use arguing with Professor McGonagall. It was probably nothing. Probably.
I had waited so long to leave the Hospital Wing, but entering the common room did not bring the satisfaction I had so long awaited. Everyone was so solemn, and it seemed everyone had forgotten me in all the chaos. I looked around at this group of people where I still had no friends after an entire school year, but that was alright. Next year, I wouldn’t be sick, and next year, I would get along better with the other Gryffindors. I knew I belonged here, and I knew that just like them, I would be brave and defend my school and do what I knew was right.
“It’s Ron, right? Ron Weasley?” He looked at me strangely. “Erm, yeah. Ron. And you are?” “Cressida. Hermione tutored me, before. You know. I was ill, and she helped me keep up with my schoolwork.”
He didn’t say anything, just furrowed his brows. “Um, anyways, I think you ought to visit her. She could probably use some visitors.” “Erm, sure. I s’pose that’s not a bad idea. Yeah, maybe I will. Harry and I.” I didn’t tell him about the paper. I didn’t want to sound like a stupid paranoid first year if it turned out to be nothing. I just nodded, and had faith that they would figure it out if it did matter, because after all, they are Gryffindors.
And I am, too.
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