wanna be yours

XVI. CORNISH PIXIES

chapter sixteen; the chamber of secrets

1992

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Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but Elodie found today's lesson especially easy. They were supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, Elodie was the first one to do it, but she gave Harry a sympathetic look as all he managed to do was give his beetle a lot of exercises as it scuttled over the desktop avoiding his wand.

Ron was having far worse problems. He had patched up his wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick grey smoke that smelled of rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased.

Everyone filed out of the classroom except Elodie, Harry and Ron, who was whacking his wand furiously on the desk.

"Stupid. . . . useless. . . . thing. . . ."

"Write home for another one," Elodie said, jumping slightly as the wand let off a volley of bangs like a firecracker.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," said Ron, stuffing the now hissing wand into his bag. "It's your own fault your wand got snapped. . . ."

They went down to lunch, where Ron's mood was not improved by Hermione's showing them the handful of perfect coat buttons she had produced in Transfiguration.

"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry, hastily changing the subject.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

"Why," demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.

"Please tell me you haven't done that," Harry said looking at Elodie who shook her head. 

"Absolutely not," she said chuckling, not seeing the relieved look on Harry's face.

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They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires again. Elodie sat on another stone step and looked out at the courtyard while Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes. Looking up, Elodie saw the very small, mousy-haired boy she'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera.

"Harry," Elodie said, tugging on his robe sleeve, "I think you've got an admirer." 

Harry looked up and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red.

"All right, Harry? I'm, I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think. . . . would it be all right if. . . . can I have a picture?" he said, raising the camera hopefully.

"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.

"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead. . . ." his eyes raked Harry's hairline, ". . . .and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move."