Chapter Thirty-Four: The Emerald-Eyed Serpent
After his disastrous conversation with Fudge, Dumbledore made plans to work against Voldemort, knowing that it would be difficult without the support of the Ministry.
The week passed by very slowly for Harish. His friends came and visited him every day and talked with him for a good while. Harish was pleased to find that Hermione left him books to read and laughed when the twins suggested he prank Madam Pomfrey.
All though it would be momentarily funny, he doubted she would take it very well. Harish suspected that if he did do some of the things the twins suggest him do, such as turn her hair green, he would be stuck in the Hospital Wing for an eternity.
Finally, the end of the year drew nearer. Perhaps out of pity, Madam Pomfrey allowed Harish to go to the end of the year feast. Fred and George helped him to the Great Hall, where many people turned and stared, whispering to each other. The twins aimed their perfected glares at anyone they caught spreading rumors about Harish.
The end of the year feast, which normally was when Dumbledore informed the castle who won the House Cup, was merely a long meal where the students got to speak with each other one last time before summer. Harish cursed his broken arm many times as he had to get help cutting his meat, but at least he was still able to fork the meat into his mouth.
"Your trunk is already packed," George told him.
"We packed it for you last night," Fred explained.
Harish nodded.
"I hope you get vell soon," Viktor said to him, leaning forward.
Harish nodded and muttered, mostly to himself, "I do too."
The next morning, Madam Pomfrey saw Harish out of the Hospital Wing herself, with the twins once again helping him to walk and Daphne toting his trunk. As they left the building, Harish could hear her calling after them, "And don't let me discover next fall that you've been walking on that leg!"
Harish shook his head with a smile and the slowly made their way down the front steps toward the carriages. Before they reached them, they were stopped by a voice calling out to them.
"'Arish!"
Harish looked around. Fleur was hurrying across the field towards him. Behind her, Harish could see Hagrid helping Madame Maxime to back to of the giant horses into the harness. The Beauxbatons carriage was about to take off.
"We will see each uzzer again, I 'ope," Fleur said as she reached him, holding out her hand. "I am 'oping to get a job 'ere to improve my Eenglish."
Harish nodded at her and shook her hand.
"Get well soon, 'Arish," Fleur said turning to go. "It 'az been a pleasure meeting you!"
Harish's spirits lifted as he watched Fleur hurry back across the lawns to Madame Maxime, her silvery hair rippling in the sunlight.
"Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back," George muttered.
"Do you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?" Fred asked.
"Karkaroff did not steer," a gruff voice said behind them. "He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork."
Krum was just coming out of the castle to leave.
"Good bye," he said. "Perhaps ve vill see each other again?"
"Perhaps," Harish said with a smile.
The carriages arrived a few minutes later and they all climbed in one and rode down to Hogsmeade station. As they got out of the carriages to board the train, the only thing that made Harish feel better about needing help from the others just to walk was the fact that he would be sitting in a train for the rest of the journey.
Once inside, they chose a compartment for themselves and talked at lengths about Jugson, wondering who he might be working for. All throughout the ride, people from all of the Houses popped their heads into the compartment and wished him well. Harish pulled out a his copy of the Daily Prophet that he had yet to read, wondering if Rita Skeeter had gotten wind of his unfortunate fall.
"There's nothing in there," Hermione said. "You can look for yourself, but there's nothing at all. I've been checking every day. Just a small piece the day after the third task saying you won the tournament. There's been nothing about your father either. If you ask me, Fudge is forcing them to keep quiet."
"He'll never keep Rita quiet," Harish retorted. "Not on a story like this."
"Oh, Rita hasn't written anything at all since the third task," Hermione replied in an oddly constrained voice. "As a matter of fact," she added. "Rita Skeeter isn't going to be writing anything at all for a while, Not unless she wants me to spill the beans on her."
"What do you mean?" Harish asked.
"We found out how she was listening in on private conversations when she wasn't supposed to be coming onto the grounds," Daphne replied.
"How was she doing it?" Harish asked.
"How did you find out?" the twins queried.
"Well, it was Hermione who gave me the idea," Daphne explained. "And then she caught on immediately."
"Yes?" Harish prompted.
"Rita Skeeter," Hermione said in triumph, reaching into her bag, "is an unregistered animagus and she can turn—"
Hermione pulled a small glass jar out of her bag.
"—into a beetle," Daphne finished.
"You're kidding," Draco said. "You haven't…she's not…"
"Oh yes she is," Hermione said, brandishing the jar happily at them.
Inside were a few twigs and leaves and one large, fat beetle.
"You're kidding," both of the twins stated, leaning forward to peer into the jar.
"No, I'm not," Hermione said, beaming. "I caught her on the windowsill in the Hospital Wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears."
Harish laughed, leaning back.
"Hermione," Fred said. "I'm proud of you! It seems like you've gotten the guts to act Slytherin for once!"
Hermione blushed and put the beetle back into her bag.
"I've told her I'll let her out when we get back to London," she said. "I've put a charm on the jar so she can't transform while she's inside it. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about my friends."
The compartment fell into comfortable silence as they watched the country go by. Then, Harish leaned forward, breaking the silence.
"Now about that prize money," he said. He pulled out the enormous sack of galleons and placed it on the seat beside him.
"We've been thinking about that," the twins interrupted.
"It was all George's idea really—"
"It's kind of hard to split a number like one thousand three ways—"
"And we don't need—"
"So we figured you would get the largest sum of money—"
"As you were the one who won it anyway—"
"And frankly, you deserve it."
"Sounds reasonable," Harish said. "Because when I split it up, I ended up with three hundred and thirty-three galleons each with one person getting three hundred and thirty-four."
"But how are we even going to divide it up?" George asked.
"Even three hundred and thirty three galleons is a large number to count out," Fred added.
"I think I have a solution for you boys," Daphne said.
"What is that?" Harish asked.
"May I?" she asked, extending her hand.
Harish nodded and held the sack of galleons out to her.
Then she said, "Accio jar!"
Harish's truck opened and closed above them and the jar full of their joke shop funds came soaring down towards her. She cast an extension charm on the jar before tipping the contents of the sack into it.
"Now you don't have to worry about who gets what," she said simply. "It can all go to the joke shop."
Harish, Fred, and George nodded thankfully.
"That does—"
"Seem a bit—"
"Simpler?" Harish asked.
"Yeah," the twins agreed.
The train finally arrived in King's Cross Station with the normal confusion. People milled about on the train, pulling their trunks down and walking into each other. The platform was once again filled with hooting, meows, and croaks. It was a little difficult getting off of the train with Harish's leg in the shape it was, but the twins managed to get him onto the platform without him having to walk on it (though twice he had almost been stepped on).
Harish found his father waiting on him. He was carrying an object that was long, thin, and wrapped in brown paper. All of his friends left calling out, "Hope you get better!" and "Make sure you write this summer!"
As the twins left to find their parents, Harish leaned on his trunk.
His father stepped forward and held the package out to him, saying, "Mr. Malfoy bought you this. He thought it might help."
Harish tore the wrapping paper off to discover a beautifully polished black cane that's handle consisted of a silver snake head with emerald eyes. Harish gaped at it in astonishment.
"And look," his father pulled the snake head off to reveal it had a round slot in the bottom of it. "This is for your wand."
Harish slid his wand out of his holster and inserted it into the slot in the base of the snake's neck. Before he replaced the handle, he saw that the inside of the cane was hollow. As Harish limped out of the station on his own, his head held high, he couldn't help but feel very grateful towards Lucius Malfoy.