I blink, ignoring the sound of something crashing coming nearby as I look around in surprise. "Huh. So I'm not dead." I shrug. "Cool."
My eyes focus on a cart full of candy and light up before shifting to the shower leaning against it. "So that's why I had that weird dream!" I lean over and snatch up a box of licorice whips, idly wondering if I could turn them into an actual whip if I tie enough of them together.
Something for another day.
Happily stuffing the candy into my mouth-hole, I finally notice Madam Pomfry struggling to her feet. "Huh? Why're you down there?" I ask around the red chewy goodness.
She huffs at me as she dusts herself off. "You are the one who suddenly shot up from her bed, y'know. Of course I'd fall from surprise when I'm checking on you! Not to mention that yell!"
Whoops. "Um, sorry? Was having a weird dream, and I woke up right as I was just about to get what I wanted."
She just huffs again before shaking her head. "Well, be that as it may, I have to check on your brother now. I'm not the only one your shouting knocked to the floor." She turns away and moves over to a shape struggling in a pile of sheets. After calming it down, she helps the sheet ghost back into the bed, peeling off their skin and revealing my brother underneath!
"Harry! You're a ghost!"
"Neither of us are dead, Misha." He says with a deadpan look, though he can't help but break out in a smile. Madam Pomfrey chooses now to take her leave, clearly wanting to avoid anything else that might happen now that I'm awake. It's odd since I generally have a good reputation with the teachers, but maybe since I don't really have a reason to talk with her she believed some weird rumors? I push my curiosity aside. For now.
"True." I nod sagely. "I'm pretty sure death would be more boring and have less candy. Or I'd come into my true power as a ghost and conquer the ghost community."
"You know, coming from anyone else that would sound like a joke. But from you it feels kind of ominous…"
I smirk back at him, my words taking on a sing-song quality. "Who knows what the future holds~."
He tries to deadpan at me, but when I start laughing he's quick to follow, filling the hospital wing with the sound of joy, and I'm relieved. Finally, finally our relationship seems like it will go back to normal. But that doesn't mean I can just let everything go. Once our laughter dies down, I raise an eyebrow at him.
"So, you don't mind that I saw Hogwarts engulfed in flames in the mirror?" I ask with all the sarcasm I can muster. "That totally means I'm evil, remember? Are you sure you want to be joking around with someone from House Slytherin? I might just Slytherin a betrayal."
He has a pained look on his face before he looks down. I don't look away, waiting for him to say something. The minutes stretch on, along with the silence, and I begin to lose hope. As much as I want our relationship to be fixed, if he can't even apologize then…
I won't let myself be pushed around. I'm not a tool for him to use, nor his caretaker, to be constantly running around looking after him.
I am Misha Potter. I will be an amazing witch, and I will do nothing less than what I please. That does not include helping someone who doesn't have faith in me.
It takes him so long to speak that I was almost sure he wouldn't. But he does, and I listen patiently as he explains himself.
"I… I know that it was wrong for me to doubt you. I was an idiot. Especially since I know the mirror didn't work on you. I was just… in shock?" He shakes his head. "The person who killed our parents was right in front of us. Not only that, but he was possessing our teacher! How messed up do our lives have to be for something like that to happen!?"
He looks at me, and his eyes are a bit wild, clearly not ok with everything that happened. Which makes sense. He's not me, after all. He cares about our parents for the simple fact that they were our parents. It doesn't matter that we never knew them, they were our parents, so he cares about them. To him, Voldemort appearing in front of us was personal.
I don't have that mindset. I never knew them, so how could I care about them? I didn't grow up with them, they didn't raise me- actually, Harry and I weren't really raised at all, but that's beside the point.
To me, Voldemort appearing wasn't personal, like it was for Harry. Especially since I'm not the one he seemed to be targeting. He had a grudge against Harry, so most of his focus was on him. At least until I cut off his hand. That's when he started treating me like a threat. But it still wasn't personal, for either of us.
On his side, I just happened to be there, so he would try to use me to his advantage. On my side, he was some random murderer wizard targeting my brother, someone I care about. So I opposed him. And while some might say that's enough to make it personal for me, he wasn't targeting me, so it wasn't. It's as simple as that.
"I just didn't know, and with how much you've changed since we came to Hogwarts… I didn't know what to think." Harry continues with his justifications for doubting me, pulling me from my musings on how personal attempted murder actually is. But before long it devolves into a rant about how he wishes I was the same, and how Slytherin is making me a bad person, basically just a bunch of House propaganda, delivered to him by that idiotic Weasley.
I let out a loud, heavy sigh, bringing his tirade to a stop as he finally looks at me. I meet his eyes, my annoyance clearly reflected in them. "Just say sorry and stop being a bloody idiot, got it?"
He opens and closes his mouth a few times, as if unsure what to say, so I snap my fingers, infusing my desire into the magic and causing all of the licorice whips to rise like snakes and face him. Confronted with my deliciously chewy army, I repeat myself. "Say sorry and don't be an idiot, got it?"
He lets out an awkward chuckle, glancing around at my forces. "I'm sorry for being an idiot all year. And I hope that I'll manage to stop being one in the future."
I nod in satisfaction. "Good. Then that means you've learned your lesson." I look at the cart of candy next to me, then at the pile of candy next to him. Slowly, a playful smile grows on my face. "Now, there's no way we can eat all this candy without throwing up. So how about we make this fun~."
`~`
When Dumbledore returns to the infirmary to check on the Potter twins, he doesn't know what he expected. Perhaps Misha Potter would still be asleep, or perhaps she'd awoken and the two of them would be embracing in joy that they are both alright.
What he can say with one hundred percent certainty, is that he never expected to see the sight that greets him when he opens the door.
Pieces of candy are scattered across the floor. Broken, bitten, torn. As if a savage animal had gotten into the candy trolley and had a feast consisting of only eating half of every single thing before getting tired of the taste and moving on.
But that is not what has him blinking in confusion, no. The thing that holds his attention is the battle between a swarm of licorice whips and chocolate frogs occurring further into the room.
The licorice whips slither to the chocolate frogs and coil themselves around their foes before tightening, squeezing down harder and harder until they break to pieces and fall to the ground in a pile of unmoving chocolate.
On the other side, the chocolate frogs' tongues dart out at the licorice whips before retracting, dragging their chewy opponents into their mouths. And chew they do, grinding them down into unrecognizable lumps before spitting them back out. But there are also cases where the frogs shoot Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans out at the licorice whips, tearing them apart with the force they hit with.
Meanwhile, squeaking sugar mice go around the battlefield -for that is what it is- using sugar quills to sweep up the remains into cauldron cakes that have had their centers already eaten. To make room for more, they utilize acid pops to melt and stir the contents, mixing the defeated candy into what can only be an… interesting, concoction.
And sitting in their respective beds, cheering at the candy carnage, are the Potter Twins.
"Go forth my blood whips, and turn your foes to rubble!"
"Devour the enemy! Don't let up!"
Harry Potter cheers for the chocolate frogs, while Misha Potter cheers for the licorice whips. And all Dumbledore can do is make a noise of confusion. "Ah."
Hey all! Figured I'd toss this out with my announcement. I'm finally making progress on the rewrite! Fixing grammar and plot holes, adding an overarching plot, and condensing the chapters to better fit with how my writing style has changed since I first started writing.
Anyways, figured I'd get your opinions since I haven't posted this to another site yet: should I replace the chapters on this site with the new version, or post the rewrites as a different story? There won't be a lot of changes, but there will be some, so I figured I'd ask.
Oh! Also, do you want to wait until I have everything rewritten before I post, or should I just toss them out whenever I get them done. I'm warning you know, they definitely aren't going to be quick.