Healing

Being Sensitive and Diplomatic

The following evening saw Draco trying to relax in the common room with Blaise and Pansy. Neville was there too but he was rather engaged with Hannah. Blaise played gently on his guitar, carefully picking his way through David Cottam's 'Gardens in the Rain', a piece that suited Draco's rather melancholy mood. He hadn't seen Harry all day, not even in lessons. Draco was fairly certain his bed hadn't been slept in since the Seeker Game. He watched Herbert who was trying to disguise himself as a hairbrush on the coffee table but his tail kept twitching.

'What's new?' Draco asked. 'Something must have occurred while I've been hiding out in the hospital wing and library. Pansy, you've always got your ears to the ground for a bit of gossip.'

Pansy's eyes twinkled and she launched into a rundown of what was happening in the lower years of the school and who had detentions and for what, taking particular glee over the first year who'd accidently tripped over Filch's bucket of dirty mop water sending it and, somehow, Filch tumbling down a flight of stairs.

Draco sighed, 'Pans, you know I'm not interested in this mundane rubbish, I want something relevant.'

She caught eyes with Blaise. 'Did you know that Justin is in the hospital wing?'

'Really?' he perked up a bit at that, thinking about his conversation the previous evening with Weaselbee. 'What happened?'

'He's got a rather bad case of "Troghog-ears"...' she giggled.

Blaise was barely containing a smirk, went wrong with his playing and muttered about having to start the piece again.

'It appears he didn't hear The Weasel's warning last night.'

'Yet we all heard it quite clearly,' Neville chimed in.

'And we all swore to McGonagall that Justin was here when Ron was explaining,' Hannah added.

'You're all evil,' Draco said. 'Tell me exactly.'

'The Weasel is developing an idea, an extension to the existing Sweet range, you know, a bit like Fred and George's Skiving Snackboxes but less vomit, blood, and pus. He's been making little chocolate Troghogs: the white ones give you oversized pointy furry ears. They are very cute ears.'

Herbert squeaked in acknowledgement.

'The only thing is the counter-charm in the pink chocolate Troghogs isn't working yet. He says he can't work it out. It works temporarily, for about five minutes, and then the ears come back. Anyway, Weasley left his stuff out in the common room last night, including the chocolate Troghogs and it appears Justin hadn't been listening at all and just thought they were ordinary chocolates, you know, like the muggle chocolate mice and helped himself to a few. It turns out Madame Pomfrey and Flitwick are also struggling to work out the counter-curse. Personally, I think it serves Justin right for stealing sweets.'

'Does Weaselbee really not know the counter-charm?'

'He's keeping very schtum about it, if he does. McGonagall's given him another week's worth of detentions too, but he and Flitwick really don't seem to mind at all.'

They fell silent, grins tweaking at their mouths, as they contemplated the unfortunate fate of Justin and his Troghog-ears.

'Weaselbee is really quite impressive sometimes,' Draco admitted. 'To think I'd dismissed him for all those years as Harry's buffoon-like sidekick. That what comes of hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle for too long, I suppose: assumptions that others are the same. You know, I never realised how good a sparring partner he was until he slumped after the war. I'm glad he's back.'

The others were looking at him quizzically.

'What?'

'Be careful,' Blaise said. 'That was nearly a compliment. People might think you liked him.'