Areas of Expertise

-- I can't believe I'm up to 92 reviews! *dances gleefully!* Thank you all so much! We've got some trauma ahead of us, then it gets better for a bit, then it gets worse! This chapter involves some characters plotting - as per usual! SP



Chapter Twenty-Six



“No one is so brave that he is not disturbed by something unexpected.” Julius Caesar



***



Ron was tired, and desperately needed the toilet. He hurried out of his lesson and made straight for the nearest bathroom. The room was empty, so he quickly made his way to the urinals and unzipped his trousers.



“Hello.”



“SHIT! Myrtle! What are you doing here?!” He yelped, dick having gone into severe retreat.



“I thought he might come back and visit me.” The ghost said, looking melancholy.



Ron fought down the urge to scream; his bladder desperately needed emptying, but he’d gone shy. “Who?” He asked distractedly, teeth gritted.



“A boy. He was nice and I liked him. He was really upset.”



Ron glared at his malfunctioning cock, muttering darkly.



“He seemed to understand me. We got on ever so well.” Myrtle’s voice sounded dreamy.



Finally peeing, Ron relaxed slightly and paid attention to what the girl had said. “So,” he began, “there was a boy in here, crying?”



“Yes. Oh, he cried ever such a lot.”



“What did he say?” Ron asked, relieved to have emptied his bladder. He shook his penis.



Myrtle looked disgusted as spatters of urine flew through her. “He said, ‘I can’t do it. He’ll kill me.’ Then he cried again.”



Ron zipped himself up, frowning.



“Maybe he’ll kill himself.” Myrtle said, sounding cheerful, “Then we could be together.” She glared at Ron as a thought occurred to her, “Your friend Harry Potter doesn’t visit me anymore.”



Trying to ignore the annoyed apparition, Ron washed his hands. Myrtle drifted over to him and continued glaring. “Yeah, I know.” Ron said, “He’s not been about much anyway.”



“I heard.” The ghost answered. “Whatever is wrong with him? You could tell him that if he’s got a life threatening illness, he can always live with me when he’s dead.”



“That’d help him get better.” Ron muttered, then, seeing the girl about to have one of her tantrums, he quickly amended, “Er, knowing you care, I mean.” He paused. “But what about the other boy? I thought you were going to live with him?”



Myrtle blew him a raspberry. “He hasn’t come back to see me. And he promised he would! I don’t think you boys are very trustworthy.”



Ron escaped the bathroom as quickly as he could – which wasn’t very quickly as Myrtle wanted to know what was really wrong with Harry – and went to tell Hermione the news.



“So,” she said, after he’d told her what the dead girl had said, “there’s a boy in this school who has to do something, or else he’ll be killed, and he can’t do it?”



“Yeah. And you know what? I reckon it’s …”



“Malfoy.” Hermione finished tiredly. “You always do, Ron.”



***



“Sir?”



Professor Snape turned in surprise. Draco Malfoy was behind him, politely asking to speak with him. The blond had spent most of the year avoiding him.



“What, Mr Malfoy?” Snape began tidying away the ingredients from the lesson, and glanced, as he often did, at the Marauders’ Map, checking where Harry was.



“I was wondering how Potter is, sir.”



A black eyebrow was lifted, but the teacher continued tidying up.



“I-I mean,” the boy stammered, “he must be fairly bored unable to go out, mustn’t he?”



Severus stopped breathing for a moment. He turned to face the youngster. “How did you know he was unable to go out?”



Draco shrugged. His thin shoulders moved gracefully and elegantly. “Well, it just seems obvious, sir. No-one’s seen him for months. There are so many rumours going around the school. Some even say he’s dead.” He turned away, fighting to keep a cruel smile from his lips. “Well, sorry for interrupting you, sir.”



The boy left, leaving Snape chewing over what had been said. He didn’t like the idea of Harry being locked up, but neither did he want the lad wandering all over the school and its grounds. It was simply too dangerous with the Dark Lord about. He remembered the knot of fear that had twisted his stomach when he had gone to their rooms that evening and he had found Harry gone. He had been convinced that Harry had been taken, and that he – Severus – would never see the boy nor his child again.



But what could he do? Keeping Harry in the Room of Requirement was keeping him safe. There would be time, once the Dark Lord was destroyed, to go outside and enjoy the world.



But you won’t be there with him, now will you, Severus? You’ve always known you wouldn’t survive this war. Why not spend some time with him outside. Be a family, if only for these brief months.



Fighting down the sense of depression these thoughts brought, Severus strode quickly into his office, searching for a book that might be of some use to him. He knew potions would be no good – they would injure Sapphire too much – but perhaps a glamour, if cast for a short while, would be safe?



He tugged three volumes from his shelves and sat down to read.



-- Things will shortly be going VERY pear shaped. I shall say no more than that!

-- If you've not seen "The Most Difficult of All Our Tasks" please head over and read it. I'm rather proud of that story! SP