FicWad

Chapter 12

It was a week or so after 'Operation Norbert' that Janie received an owl at breakfast. It was a plain brown school owl.

"Who's it from?" I asked as she opened the note. "Michael Corner?"

"It doesn't say." She passed the small parchment roll to me under the table.


Granger,

Watch yourself. Flint has something planned for you. You won't like it.


There was no signature.

"Marcus Flint?" Janie frowned. "The Slytherin Quidditch captain? That's the only Flint I know of. Why would he be interested in me !? He's never so much as spoken to me - ever!"

"He's a fifth-year, I think," I considered. "Or maybe sixth. You're a bit young for him, even if you are twelve," I teased.

"From the sound of that note, I doubt that romance has anything to do with what he has planned," Janie replied, furrowing her brow.

The Book was no help, of course. Aside from quite a bit about Draco Malfoy, information on other members of House Slytherin was very sparse. According to Strategy and Cheat Codes, Pansy Parkinson was Draco's girlfriend - sort of - and Flint was never mentioned.

"There's only one thing to do," Janie announced. "Remember that Polyjuice potion we got from Snape's storeroom? I'll impersonate Parkinson and ask Flint about their plan. She's put him up to something - I just know it."

"Are you serious!?" I gasped.

"Can you think of a better idea?"

Try as I might, I could not.

"Maybe talk to Crabbe or Goyle, though, instead of Flint?" I suggested. "They're more likely to be fooled by a disguise."

"And less likely to know the full plan," Janie shook her head. "Although..." she allowed.

"What?"

"I can get the gist of things from Crabbe or Goyle, then I'll be on surer footing with Flint," she nodded to herself. "Knowing the basics, I can pretend to go over the details with Flint."

"I can go with you - as Crabbe or Goyle," I volunteered.

"No, that just complicates things needlessly," Janie dismissed my offer.

"What if Flint gets suspicious? What if he tries something? I'd feel a lot better if I were there, too," I insisted.

"Then use your Cloak," Janie shrugged. "You'll have to ask Cho for it..."

"I'll tell her it's for only one night. When do you want to do this?"

"As soon as I can get a hair from Parkinson," Janie nodded.


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Getting a hair from Parkinson proved easier than I'd thought. On Friday in Potions class, Janie staged a minor confrontation with the Slytherin while I stood off to the side and took careful aim with my wand.

"Diffindo, "I muttered and I watched a small clump of black hair fall to the floor. I waited until the two girls had moved to their respective tables to retrieve it.


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"How did it go?" I nervously asked Janie upon her return from talking to Crabbe and Goyle while disguised as Pansy.

"It's better to be lucky than good!" she grinned back at me. "Come on! Third floor classroom!" she commanded, grabbing my hand and dragging me out through the portrait hole.


"Okay - so tell me!" I grinned. Janie's enthusiasm was infectious.

"You don't have to ask Chang to borrow the Cloak," she beamed. "I already talked with Flint!"

"What!? How?"

"As I was leaving the girls' loo, Flint was walking past. I started to panic when he stopped to talk to me. 'Parkinson,' he said, 'have you decided when?'

"I shook my head. 'When do you think is best?' I asked him.

"'Tomorrow - after lunch,' he said, 'if you can manage it.'

"I asked him where and he said the unused classroom two doors past the Defense room. That's handy as there's a girls' lavatory just down the corridor.

"'I'll be waiting. Make sure Granger's stunned so she doesn't see me until I'm ready. I don't want her to be able to identify me if something goes wrong,' he replied."

"'Right! Two o'clock,' I told him.

"'Who is going to write the note? Crabbe or Goyle?' he wanted to know.

"'The note?' I asked, playing dumb.

"'The note asking Granger to meet with you at two o'clock! Merlin, Parkinson! Are you as forgetful as your buddies?'

"'Right!' I nodded. 'Crabbe, I guess.'

"'And don't let Granger see you. Stun her from behind. Be there early and ambush her before she gets to the classroom.'

"'I'll be waiting for her,' I promised.

"'You owe me, Parkinson,' he warned me. 'You Welch on your end of the deal and you'll end up just like Granger.'"

"What was Parkinson's end of the deal?" I wondered.

"Not sure," Janie shook her head, "but from Flint's leer, I'm guessing sexual favors."

I shuddered involuntarily at that. "Can you get an extra Gryffindor robe by tomorrow?" I asked her.

"Sure - Sally-Anne is about Pansy's size. Her clean clothes are usually piled on her empty bed every morning, since she's always sleeping with Faye."

"What!?"

"Oh - you wouldn't know about that, would you?" Janie chuckled. "Sally-Anne Perks and Faye Dunbar have been 'best friends and sleeping buddies' since the second week of school."

"Really!?"

"All the girls know about it and no one seems to care," she shrugged. "You probably shouldn't say anything to anyone, though."


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"I estimate a full dose for Parkinson but only a half-dose for me," Janie explained. "Fifteen to twenty minutes for me to stun Parkinson, levitate her into the classroom, dose her with Polyjuice and switch her into Gryffindor robes, then put Pansy's robes on myself. I'll wait there for Flint to arrive, then make my way back to the loo. A half-hour dose should leave me a good safety margin. Parkinson will need to stay changed until after you call the professors - about an hour, tops."

"What if you start to change back too soon?" I fretted.

"If I feel myself starting to change back, then I stun both Flint and Parkinson and dash out of there!" Janie frowned. "That would ruin our plan, of course, but it certainly trumps the alternative."

I heaved a sigh. "Okay," I finally nodded in approval. "Just don't take any chances."

"I won't!" Janie grinned.


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I waited outside the loo while Janie added Parkinson's hair into the Polyjuice and drank her half-dose. Three soft taps on the inside of the door told me that she was ready.

"All clear," I whispered, nudging the door open.

"How do I look?" she asked, turning completely around for me.

"Perfect! Pansy Parkinson in plain robes," I nodded, after checking her from head to toe. "Let's go!"

"Wait until you see me leave the loo," Janie reminded me.

"Right! Good luck!" I almost leaned forward to give her a good-luck kiss, but I would have been kissing Pansy Parkinson. Yuck! Instead I hurried off to take up my position on the fourth floor.


I waited there on tenterhooks for the required half hour. Finally, and to my great relief, Janie came rushing down the corridor, flashing me a thumbs-up sign as she passed my hiding spot.

I hurried off to the seventh floor.


"Professor McGonagall! Professor McGonagall!" I shouted, banging on her door with all my might.

"Mister Potter!?" she opened the door to greet me. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Come quickly, Professor! It's Hermione! I heard her screaming in a classroom! The door was locked and I couldn't get in to help her!"

"Oh my!" the normally reserved witch let out a gasp of surprise. "Where?" she demanded, pulling the door closed behind her. She drew her wand and followed me at a run to the fourth floor.

Pansy was still screaming when we arrived.

"Alohomora! " McGonagall shouted.

The door shuddered a little but the locking spell held.

"Bombarda !!" she tried again.

This time the door was blasted completely off its hinges. The sight in the classroom was not pretty. Flint was standing there with his wand pointing at his arm and casting a spell. I didn't know what Episkey did, but there was blood all over the sleeve of his robes.

"Mister Flint!!" McGonagall shouted angrily, her wand pointed directly at him, "Drop that wand! Immediately!"

Flint complied, his wand falling to the floor with a clatter as I rushed over to console 'Hermione.' There wasn't much to console. Parkinson was curled up in the fetal position and whimpering softly. I knelt beside her and pulled her into my arms. We sat there, me rocking her gently, until Dumbledore showed up.


"The Mudblood attacked me!" Flint repeated his claim to Dumbledore when the Headmaster finally arrived. It was the same story he'd told Professor McGonagall. "She hit me with a Diffindo ! Look at my arm!"

"To the infirmary!" Dumbledore ordered us all.

McGonagall tried to help me with 'Hermione' but the girl was unable to stand. "Mobilicorpus," the professor flicked her wand and Parkinson floated ahead of her to the hospital wing. I walked along beside Pansy, acting distraught and holding her hand.


"The girl has been tortured," Madam Pomfrey gave the results of her diagnostic spells. "She is suffering from severe nerve damage, consistent with extended exposure to the Cruciatus curse."

"Mister Flint's wand, please," Dumbledore held out his hand to McGonagall. "Prior Incantato," he pointed his own wand at Flint's. "Episkey, then Diffindo, Crucio, Crucio, Crucio, Crucio, Crucio, Enervate, Colloportus," the Headmaster named the spells as their echoes issued forth from Flint's wand in reverse order.

"So he dragged a stunned Miss Granger into the classroom, sealed the door, revived her, tortured her repeatedly, then when he heard me at the door, he deliberately cut his arm and subsequently tried to heal it," Professor McGonagall put the events in their proper sequence.

"May I use your Floo, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked Madam Pomfrey.

"Of course, Albus."

Dumbledore returned from her office several minutes later with another man, who glared at Flint the way an angry father glares at his son.

"The Mudblood attacked me!" Flint repeated, cringing away from the man.

"Your son has used the Cruciatus curse - repeatedly," McGonagall informed Mister Flint. "He has used it on a fellow student."

"I didn't! You have no proof!" the younger Flint exclaimed.

"Minerva?" Dumbledore turned to her.

"I found them in a sealed classroom. Miss Granger was screaming in pain when I arrived. I had to blast the door open," the Deputy Headmistress recounted. "Prior Incantato, revealed that several Cruciatus curses had been cast by your son's wand."

"This is a very serious matter Theophus," Dumbledore turned to Flint's father. "Your son could be expelled at the very least. Criminal charges might be filed, as well."

"Could be!? Might be!?" McGonagall raged. "I will not accept anything less! After what he's done to my Lion!? This young man is a threat to every student in the castle! Azkaban is too good for him!"

"Will be expelled, then," the Headmaster nodded his reluctant agreement.

"Now wait, Dumbledore - you can't summarily expel my son! Not without a Board of Governors' appeal!" the elder Flint decided to ignore the Deputy Headmistress' tirade.

"Poppy? Your Floo once more?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"Certainly!" she nodded, with a scowl in Mr. Flint's direction.

I had been standing beside 'Hermione' and holding her hand as all this was going on. Several minutes later Dumbledore emerged from Pomfrey's office once more, this time with six other wizards following him. I casually ducked around behind a hospital curtain as they entered, peeking out to try to identify the newcomers. I didn't recognize any of them.

"Gentlemen, we have a quorum," Dumbledore announced. "Marcus Flint was discovered in a classroom, having tortured a fellow student, Miss Hermione Granger. I have ordered him expelled, but his father wishes to appeal to the Board of Governors."

"The Mudblood attacked me first!" Flint shouted. "I was merely defending myself!"

"Silence!" the Headmaster roared at Marcus. "His wand was found to have cast several Cruciatus curses and he was discovered in a sealed classroom with a screaming Miss Granger," he informed the Governors. "I am forced," he sent Professor McGonagall an appeasing glance, "to urge his immediate expulsion and that criminal charges be pressed."

"The girl is Muggleborn?" a silver-blonde haired man asked, raising his eyebrow. He bore a family resemblance to Draco Malfoy.

"She is," Professor McGonagall replied. "Not that it should matter."

"I should think that a student would have the right to defend himself against attack," the blonde man addressed Dumbledore.

"Using the Cruciatus curse?" McGonagall replied fiercely.

"In self-defense?" the blonde man gave the younger Flint a questioning look.

"It was!" Marcus caught on quickly. "It was self-defense! She invited me into that classroom, then she attacked me without reason! It was definitely self-defense, Mister Malfoy!"

"There, Dumbledore - you see? This whole little misunderstanding has been cleared up quite easily." Malfoy chose to ignore the fuming Deputy Headmistress.

"But it hasn't, Lucius," the Headmaster frowned. "The Cruciatus curse was used - multiple times, I might add - and that is no trivial matter!"

"Against a Muggleborn and in self-defense?" Malfoy turned to address his fellow Governors. "A punishable misdeed, certainly, but nothing that would warrant expulsion. I think that two weeks of detention more appropriately fits the offense. Agreed, gentlemen?"

There were five nods of assent from the others.

"And a good talking to from his father!" Mister Flint added firmly.

Marcus was barely able to keep the smirk from his face.

"Albus!" Madam Pomfrey suddenly gasped, pointing at 'Hermione.'

All heads turned to the girl on the bed, whose brown hair was turning black and whose features were beginning to resemble those of Pansy Parkinson once more.

"What is going on, here, Dumbledore?" Malfoy demanded. "What are you playing at?"

"I myself am at a loss," he replied absently, his gaze fixed on Parkinson. "Poppy?" he motioned her toward the bed.

Madam Pomfrey performed another diagnostic spell. "It's Polyjuice! I never suspected that, so I didn't scan for it earlier," she said in astonishment.

"Who is it?" Mister Flint asked the room at large.

"Pansy??" his son supplied.

"Miss Pansy Parkinson," Malfoy confirmed. "The Parkinsons and the Malfoys had entered into a betrothal contract - until my son died," he shot Dumbledore a glare. "So who gave her the Polyjuice?" he cast an accusing eye in Marcus Flint's direction.

"Not me!" Flint blurted out. "I thought she was the Mudblood! Honest!"

"I'll notify her parents at once," Dumbledore headed for Pomfrey's Floo once more.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room until he returned.

"Pansy? Pansy?" her father rushed into the room and straight to her bed. "What's wrong with her?" he turned to the Healer in Charge.

"She was tortured," Pomfrey glared at Marcus Flint, "and she has suffered severe nerve damage resulting from prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus curse."

"Who?" Mister Parkinson's eyes landed squarely on the younger Mister Flint. "You? You did this to her!? I'll kill you myself!!"

The man had barely pulled his wand before the Headmaster stunned him.

"Enervate," he revived Mister Parkinson - but not before securing the man's wand.

"I want him arrested!" Parkinson pointed an angry finger at Marcus Flint. "I want him in Azkaban for life!"

"Now Jonathan..." Flint's father began. "I'm sure my son didn't mean to..."

"Your son Crucio'd my daughter!" Mister Parkinson fired back. "I want that monster Kissed by the Dementors! You hear me?" his furious gaze swept the assembled adults. "Kissed!!"

"I'm afraid that the Board of Governors has already set the punishment," Dumbledore spoke softly, in stark contrast to Parkinson's yelling.

"What!? What is to be done with him?" Parkinson demanded through narrowed eyes.

"Perhaps Lucius can better explain the Board's reasoning," the Headmaster turned to Malfoy.

"It appears that not all of the facts were known," Lucius said smoothly. "I think it prudent that we should take another look at the situation," he turned to address the other Board members, who cleared their throats uncomfortably.

"I want him Kissed!" Parkinson repeated. "Call the Aurors! Dumbledore?" he turned expectantly to the Headmaster.

"I shall abide by the Board's decision," Professor Dumbledore turned back to Malfoy, "as I am required to do in situations like this..."

"But the Board already decided!" Flint's father spoke up. "Two weeks detention and no expulsion."

"Two weeks DETENTION!!?" Parkinson screamed. "For torturing my Pansy!?" He rushed at Marcus, his fists clenched, but was bound in magical ropes before he reached his target.

"So when you thought the victim was merely a Muggleborn, the crime was only a misdemeanor?" Professor McGonagall arched her eyebrow. "Now that we know she is a Pureblood, this suddenly becomes a capital case?"

"Shall I call the Aurors?" Dumbledore asked calmly, ignoring his Deputy Headmistress' protest.

"NO!!" Mister Flint cried, but he was overruled by six reluctant nods from the Board of Governors.

Dumbledore made use of Madam Pomfrey's Floo once more. He returned with four red-robed Aurors.

"I thought Pansy was the Mudblood! Honest I did!" Marcus Flint protested helplessly as the Aurors led him away.

As if that should have made any difference! I wanted so badly to punch him right in his protruding Adam's apple.

"So that leaves two questions as yet unanswered," McGonagall noted. "Who administered the Polyjuice potion to Miss Parkinson and where is the real Miss Granger?"

"I'll go check Gryffindor Tower," I offered, stepping out from behind my curtain and hurrying for the infirmary doors.

"Mister Potter! You're still here!?" Dumbledore seemed surprised. "You've been listening the whole..."

"Then I shall search the library," Professor McGonagall said quickly, taking firm hold of my arm and ushering me out the door in front of her.

I ran all the way to our common room and asked a third year girl to look in the girls' dorms for Janie, knowing full well that the search would be in vain. Janie was in the library where McGonagall would find her. I ran all the way back to the infirmary to discover that the two of them had just arrived.

"Hermione!" I rushed to hug her tightly. "I thought that was you!" I turned to the bed where Pansy Parkinson lay.

"Why? What happened? Is that Pansy Parkinson?" Janie asked, faking confusion. "What's wrong with her?"

"Miss Granger, where have you been for the past hour?" Dumbledore asked.

"In the library. Harry, you were supposed to meet me there right after you stopped by the loo," she scowled at me. "Where have you been?"

"Right here - in the infirmary," I replied innocently. "I heard yelling coming from a classroom - it sounded like you. The door was locked and so I ran to get Professor McGonagall. Marcus Flint was torturing Pansy Parkinson, but she was somehow spelled to look - and sound - just like you," I gave her the quick explanation.

"What!? Like me!? Why?" Janie asked, adding her best 'bewildered' expression.

"That's what we've been trying to ascertain," the Headmaster interjected. "I'm afraid that the only person who can answer that question is currently unable to do so," he nodded to Parkinson's bed.

"May I transport her to St. Mungo's now, Albus?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"I should think so - she will not be able to answer questions in her current state. We may only pray that she recovers. Jonathan, I trust that you will want to accompany your daughter?" asked the Headmaster, who had released Mister Parkinson from the magical ropes while I was gone.

Mister Parkinson nodded and Dumbledore turned to Janie and me. "What you have seen and heard here must be kept in the strictest confidence. Neither of you will discuss these events with anyone. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," we gulped, taking a half step back in response to his uncharacteristically fierce scowl.


Fifteen minutes later, Janie and I were safely ensconced in my dorm room, which except for us, was unoccupied.

"What happened?" Janie immediately began to interrogate me. "I want the complete story!"

"Flint tortured her," I shook my head. "They're not sure of she'll ever recover."

"Wow! I had no idea Flint would be so vicious..." she shook her head slowly.

"Me neither, but I'm glad it wasn't you," I shuddered, hugging Janie tightly.

"I wonder if Pansy knew what I was in for?" Janie considered. "If she did - if that was their plan - then I suppose maybe she had it coming."

"If that had really been you down there on that hospital bed, I would have killed Flint on the spot," I admitted. "And then gone hunting for Parkinson."

"Well, it wasn't - so unclench your vengeful fists of wrath and show me how happy you are that I'm here with you and safe," Janie grinned at me.

Being the gentleman that I am, I obliged her, of course. It was several minutes before I was willing to release her from our hug.

"What did Dumbledore say?" Janie dug for more details, "and who were all those wizards?"

"Parkinson's and Flint's fathers, plus a half dozen members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors," I replied. "They were there to decide what to do with Flint."

"Where was he? I didn't see him anywhere."

"Some Aurors came and took him away for using an Unforgivable curse on Parkinson. When they thought it was you, they'd voted to only give him detention, but since Parkinson is a Pureblood, the Board decided to have Flint expelled and arrested."

"Wait! What's being a Pureblood have to do with anything?" Janie demanded crossly.

"Apparently quite a bit," I told her. "They referred to you as 'the Mudblood' and were willing to let Flint go with a slap on the wrist. He claimed that you'd attacked him first. There was a cut on the arm of his robes and a bit of blood. Was that you?"

"Not a chance! I left Flint with Parkinson as soon as I was able. When Flint walked in, I had Pansy already stunned and wearing Gryffindor robes. I told Flint to seal the door before he Enervated her, which meant that I had to leave, first," Janie smiled. "I told him I didn't want her to see me in the room. I hurried to the nearest loo, changed out of those Slytherin robes and waited in the stall for the potion to wear off, then headed straight to the library, just as we'd planned."

"I'm so glad someone sent you that warning note," I said, taking a deep breath and exhaling heavily. "Madam Pomfrey is not sure if Parkinson will recover."

"I wonder who sent it - the note, that is," Janie mused. "It had to be someone close to Flint or someone close to Parkinson."

"Or just someone who overheard them talking in their common room," I offered.

"I'd think Slytherins would be more discreet," Janie shook her head at my idea. "Maybe one of them talks in their sleep."

"So - a first-year girl or a sixth-year boy?"

"Possibly."

"Maybe they'll tell us - now that both Flint and Parkinson are no longer around," I said hopefully.

"Maybe," Janie shrugged. "Flint still has to stand trial and Parkinson could recover, so if our snitch is going to come forward, it won't be until after they feel safe."

"Right," I nodded, "but if we watch the Slytherin table at meals, maybe we'll catch someone looking over at us a lot."

"Maybe. You know, we're going to have to act upset for a day or two," Janie reminded me. "A lot of hand-holding would be appropriate under the circumstances, though, I should think. We were both very traumatized today and we now feel a compelling need to seek comfort from each other."

"Brilliant!" I grinned, kissing her on the nose and taking her hand in mine. "Shall we go down to dinner?" I asked, putting on my best 'somber' face.

"We're not discussing the incident - with anyone," Janie reminded me. "Remember what Dumbledore said..."

"Right! Let's go!"

Headmaster Dumbledore had warned the we must disavow all knowledge of the attack and refer any questions to a professor. I think he was trying to contain the damage and didn't want any details to become known. Hmm - were we starting to see a pattern, here?


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