Elegiac

Chapter Nine; A French Scribe

Harry wouldn't stop thinking about that mirror. He would want to go back each night, turning sullen each time Ron and I said no. It was obviously dangerous. No mirror, magic or not, should be able to see your heart's desire.

When Ron looked, he just saw himself as head boy, holding both the house and Quidditch cup, and as Quidditch captain. I was pretty sure there was no badge for being Quidditch captain, but I didn't bother asking how he knew. All three of us had very different images when we looked in the mirror. At least the mirror partly did its job and showed Harry and Ron their reflection.

Hermione was put aghast when Harry told her about the mirror and that he was out of bed three nights in a row. However, after finding out they didn't have a clue as to who Flamel was, her disappointment outweighed her terror.

Harry had something he needed to talk about after his quidditch practice so here I was, sitting at a table in the Gryffindor common room with Ron, playing wizard's chess.

"I don't understand this absurd game." I grumbled. At that moment, one of Ron's knights took a pawn, shattering it to pieces. Ron cheered, the pile of white chess piece debris piling up. Sinking into my chair in shame, I groaned. I'm supposed to be the smart one and he's beating me at chess? I played this with Grandpa all the time and I'm still losing!

Hermione had pulled up a chair to the table long ago, shifting between watching the game and reading her book. The bushy haired girl clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes at my failure. You'd think one of us would be good but no, Ron is still better than us, even when we try to team up to win. It's about the only time you'll see us working together on our own terms.

"Don't talk to me. I'm trying to concen-" Ron started, putting his attention onto Harry when he sat down. The small boy held a grim look on his face, looking quite pale. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

"Not like Oliver has been dragging him through the mud at all. Literally." I said, a small grin on my face. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Snape's refereeing the next Quidditch match." He spoke solemnly.

"Don't play." Hermione stated, as if it was the most obvious answer.

"Say you're ill."

"Pretend to break your leg."

"Really break your leg."

"You'd know they don't have a reserve Seeker if you actually listened to him, Granger. Weasley." I said, scowling at the two. They shrunk in their seats, while Harry gave me a grateful smile. After sending a letter to Mum, she did confirm she remembered Lily briefly saying she was pregnant around the same time she was. Harry was quite relieved to find out he had another cousin, other than Dudley.

After I finished talking, Neville toppled into the common room. How he got through the portrait hole was anyone's guess. His legs looked glued together with what seemed to be the Leg-Locker Curse. The amount of bunny hopping he must've had to do to get to Gryffindor Tower.

Everyone burst into laughter at his appearance, pointing and mimicking the boy. Hermione and I sprang up to help him, making sure he was okay. With a wave of her wand, Hermione performed the counter-curse. I didn't acknowledge her help, just looking at Neville with a firm grip on his shoulder.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, following as I led Neville to a table. I let my hand fall to my side once he was seated, standing just behind the chair. Neville was hesitant to answer, his pupils shifting between Hermione and I.

"Malfoy." He whispered, dropping his gaze. Standing straight, my hand gripped his chair. I tuned out the rest of the conversation, repeating Neville's words over and over in my head. Malfoy performed that curse on Neville? Does he not listen? Can't learn a lesson? I'll punch him again and it'd be much worse than a broken nose.