| Jarvey
Join Date: May 2008 Location: Leicester, UK
Posts: 567
Hogwarts RPG Name:
Krysta Hedwig
Sixth Year
Ministry RPG Name:
Kye Black
Magical Creatures | 
Chapter Three: The Bumps
His head hurt. No, Harry’s head didn’t hurt, it pounded, continuous explosions of pain throbbing through his brain at regular intervals. He couldn’t really see. Moving shapes, dull lights and shadows were all he could make out in his semi-conscious state. Voices around him were painful muffled echoes rolling around inside his head. Once or twice he thought one of the muffled voices was one he knew, but it hurt too much to even think hard enough to put a name and face to the voice. What had happened to him? He couldn’t remember, couldn’t think, too much pain. He forced a moan through his lungs causing himself more pain in the process. Another moving shape appeared before him. A gentle, muffled voice spoke and he felt a sharp pain in his arm. He was going again. The voices of the two new shapes that had appeared beside him slowly faded away to nothing and Harry slipped back into the blackness.
“Good afternoon young, man!”
Harry opened his eyes and the room spun. He waited for the pain to sink into his brain, but none came. He opened his eyes wider, and to his amazement and relief the world around him began to come into focus. He blinked hard but it was still there. Where was he? Who had spoken to him? He moved his arms, half expecting to find them bound to the bed. To his joy, he found he could move them freely, though he was a little stiff. He attempted to raise his upper body but several pairs of hands pushed him back down. Another voice spoke.
“No, Harry, just rest.” He gaped in amazement at the face before him.
“Mrs. Weasley?!” He looked beyond her to see Percy standing tall and straight with his arms crossed, a sober expression on his face. All at once everything came flooding back to him.
“The Bus!” he yelled.
“Yes, dear. It’s ok.” Began Mrs. Weasley , tucking the sides of the blanket under the mattress and began mopping his forehead with a cool, damp cloth.
“The Death Eaters! And the witch!” he cried again, trying to sit up. Mrs. Weasley gently pushed his back down again.
“It’s alright. You’re safe now. No one was hurt, and all three Death Eaters were caught. They’re on their way to Azkaban as we speak I hope.” She said bitterly.
“Three!” Harry shot up upwards again in horror.
“Harry, please calm down, you’ll make yourself ill again. It’s taken us 3 days to get you conscious.”
“But there were four! There were four Death Eaters, and a witch. She tried to kill me. She pushed me out of the bus.” Percy and his Mother were exchanging a look of pure terror.
“H-Harry, you’ve been ill. Your head has suffered some trauma. Your memory is just a little…” Percy began, a little patronizingly.
“No!” Harry shouted, this time moving with such determination he made it to a full sitting position. “No, there were three of them, and Lucius Malfoy was one of them, he was the leader. He and the witch were arguing. She wouldn’t hand me over straight away and they started duelling. At the end she pushed me out of the emergency doors…I think.”
Both Mrs. Weasley were watching him, uneasily.
“You think?” Percy picked up.
“Well she opened the doors with an Alohomora spell and then this great force lifted me off my feet and I was thrown out of the doors.” Replied Harry, clutching his head, which was beginning to ache a little after all. Percy didn’t look convinced.
“Harry, no one remembers Lucius Malfoy being there, and one of the Passengers worked for the Ministry. He surely would have recognised him.” Percy reported, officially.
“The wizard. The young one. He sat near the front. He saw Malfoy, I know he did!”
“Now, Harry, this is silly…” Percy began again.
“Listen to me!” he shouted, frustrated. “He helped me. I heard him. He disarmed one of the Death Eaters. And he heard the conversation between Malfoy and the…the witch, I know he did!” Percy looked shocked and confused, then the expression changed to the same old, pompous authoritive expression Percy was known for.
“Harry, I think you need some rest. There were four other passengers on that bus besides you, plus the Driver and Conductor, and none of them remember any of this. They remember that three Death Eaters, not four, but three attacked the bus. And not one of them mentioned the presence of Lucius Malfoy. And certainly no one has mentioned this witch of yours. She certainly wasn’t on the bus when the emergency team arrived. Now I have to report to father. He’ll want to know you’re ok.” With that, Percy turned on his heel and walked stiffly out of the room. Harry slumped back on his bed, and Mrs. Weasley returned to bathing his forehead. Her expression was sad and thoughtful.
“I’m not crazy, Mrs. Weasley. My head’s fine. There was a witch.”
“I’m, sure there was, dear. Percy is a little too like Cornelius Fudge unfortunately. If the truth is too hard to cope with, he likes to keep the easier scenario.” She paused. “I believe what you said about Lucius Malfoy, dear if that’s a consolation. Arthur and I believed you the first time when you said You-Know-Who was back, and that Lucius was with him. Arthur’s never really trusted him, despite Fudge’s insistence in his innocence. They cleared him you see, dear. And it’s easier for Fudge to sweep the matter under the carpet than to contemplate the possibility that they made a mistake.” Harry listened, relaxing now that he knew she believed him. She sighed. “But Harry, dear, what in Spirit’s name were you doing on the Knight Bus all by yourself in times like these? Where are your Aunt and Uncle?” Harry stared at her in confusion.
“But my letter…”
“What letter, dear?” she said, also sounding confused.
“I wrote you a letter! I explained everything. How I was coming here.” She looked completely confused now and shook her head.
“We didn’t get any letter, Harry.” Harry frowned.
“Then, where’s Hedwig?”
“She never came here. Maybe she got delayed.” Harry relaxed, though only a tad.
“I did give her two letters. I wrote to Sirius as well. If she took his letter first and he’s quite a long way from here…” he trailed off.
“Well there you go then, dear. Nothing to worry about.” She smiled and offered him a glass of water. He took it gratefully. Just then something occurred to him that should have occurred the moment he woke up.
“Mrs. Weasley, how did I get here?” she smiled back at him.
“I’ll leave that to Arthur to explain, dear. He’s dying to tell you the story.” She beamed at him, and he managed a half smile through the confusement. He was just thinking how quiet The Burrow was for a change when suddenly an almighty explosion caused mighty vibrations to ricochet around the house. Harry nearly dropped the glass in surprise. Shouts and yells met his ears, and he heard what must have been Ginny screaming and Ron yelling at the top of his voice. Simultaneously, Harry could hear yelps and wails coming from the twins, Fred and George.
“What in Spirit’s name…” began Mrs. Weasley. They exchanged looks of bewilderment and confusion before Mrs. Weasley took to her feet and tore out of the bedroom door in a panic.
Harry couldn’t bare the suspense a second longer. All he’d heard for the last ten minutes was more squeals and shouts from the younger Weasleys and several short outburst from Mrs. Weasley.
“Oh George! Oh Fred! What you done now…oh my god look at you all oh what in Spirit’s name? What am I going to do?! Less than six weeks of the holidays left. And at a time like this! As if your Father hasn’t got enough on his plate!”
Harry simply couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to know what was going on. He slowly and carefully climbed out of the bed, wincing at the pain, noticing for the first time the bruises all over his arms and legs. He grabbed his dressing gown from the end of the bed…his dressing gown! He stared at it. Where had it come from? He looked around the room and realised that all his belongings were there. His trunk and Hedwig’s cage were sitting at the bottom of the bed, and on closer inspection, he could see that everything was intact. Another shout from the Weasleys followed by a crash drew his attention and he pulled on his gown and made his way to the door. As he opened it, another crashing sound and a scream, this time from at least two of them came to his ears, only louder now he was out on the landing. Making his way carefully down the stairs the shouting and crashing was getting more frequent.
“Oh for goodness sake, George, hold onto something. Ron get away from the cabinet, last thing we need is you knocking all the plates everywhere. There was another scream and a thump, which Harry was sure came from Fred, and as Harry entered the kitchen he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Ginny was closest to him and she was covering her face with her hands and weeping. George was on the floor, trying to get up, Fred helping him. Ron was holding onto the kitchen table as if for dear life. All of a sudden Fred hiccupped violently and was propelled off the ground two feet into the air, landing on his bottom with a loud bump. He wailed and Harry could see three or four red smudges on his face and arms. Fred was just settling down again when Ginny hiccupped too, and despite clinging onto the hall door-handle was also propelled into the air, landing with a thump when she hit the floor again. She whimpered and turned to see Harry. She too had red blotches all over her skin and she screamed with horror, covering her face when she saw him.
“Harr-hic-arry!!!” hiccupped Ron is surprise as he was thrown off the chair he was sitting on and onto the floor.
“Oh dear! Harry, dear, you shouldn’t be down here.” Cried Mrs. Weasley, helping Ginny to her feet, who was desperately trying to hide her blotchy face from Harry.
“What’s happening, what’s wrong with them?” asked an astounded Harry, whilst George and Fred hiccupped simultaneously colliding in mid-air and falling in a large heap on the floor.
“The poor dears have the Bumps! I don’t know what I’m going to do? And now you’re going to get it too. You’re barely walking as it is! Oh dear, what is Arthur going to say?” Just then a disgruntled Percy came in and. The newconce on his face was replaced with shock, closely followed by terror.
“Argh! They’ve got the Bumps! They’ve got the Bumps. I have reports to do! We’re behind. I can’t get the Bumps!” with that he tore out the room as though chased by a herd of Chimaera.
“Percy! It’s ok! You’ve already had them!” Mrs. Weasley yelled after him, but after thundering steps up the stairs, his door slammed shut. “Poor Percy. Since Crouch died he’s had a hell of a time.” Harry looked down at his toes. All the events of last term came back to him. Discovering that the Professor Moody who had been teaching them DADA was infact Mr. Crouch’s supposedly dead son. He and three death Eaters had been arrested soon after the disappearance of Voldemort and imprisoned for the torture of Neville Longbottom’s parents. So embarrassed by his association with the Dark Lord, Crouch had sent his son to Azkaban for his crimes, despite the boy’s protests. Later however, the boy’s dying had pleaded with his Father to help him escape. His Mother, disguised as her son (polyjuice etc.) had taken her son’s place in his cell and died there months later. Crouch kept his son prisoner with the Imperius curse and a house elf, Winky. Unfortunately his son had overcome the spell and returned to his master. Disguising himself as Alastor (Mad-eye) Moody, an ex Auror for the Ministry of Magic, he had gone to Hogwarts so that he could bring Harry to Voldemort and the ritual to return him to his body could be performed. Crouch had died trying to warn everyone of the prominent rise of Voldemort, and Percy had not been the same since.
“Don’t feel so bad, Harry. It wasn’t your fault.” Ron had managed to drag himself to his feet and was approaching them.
“I know, Ron, but sometimes I feel that if I hadn’t left Krum alone with him…” Ron flinched at the mention of Viktor Krum, his ex-Quidditch hero who had shown a huge amount of interest in their friend Hermione Granger. “…maybe we could have overpowered Wormtail together, and Crouch would still be alive.” Ron hiccupped again and was thrown to the floor with a bump.
“No guesses as to why it’s called ‘The Bumps’ then.” Harry half-grinned. He helped Ron up again with a shaky hand.
“My **** is one big bruise.” muttered Ron and Harry couldn’t help but laugh, then shivered suddenly. “Hey! You should be in bed!” exclaimed Ron, and Harry nodded turning towards the stairs.
Once in Ron’s bedroom, Harry clambered back into the spare bed and Ron perched himself on the end of his own bed. He hiccupped once more, bouncing up and down on the mattress. Harry swallowed some more water trying not to laugh.
“Does it hurt?” Harry asked, calming down a little.
“Only when you land on your ****.” Ron muttered again. Harry smiled. “The blotches can itch a little but there’s a potion you can take for that. Mum’s gone to brew some now.”
“How long does it last?”
“Oh, who knows? Bill, Charley and Percy all had it when they were little, so they’re ok. You don’t get it if you’ve had it before.”
“Oh, it sounds like Chicken Pox.” Said Harry.
“What in spirit’s name is Chicken Pox?” laughed Ron, hiccupping at the same time and falling on the floor.
“It’s a Muggle illness. You get nasty itchy spots all over you and the more you scratch, the worse it gets.”
“How stupid!” laughed Ron. Harry was just thinking that The Bumps was way stupider than Chicken Pox when Mrs. Weasley came bursting into the room in a panic.
“Ron Weasley, what are you doing in here?”
“I was just talking to Harry!”
“Out!” she screeched. “Out, last thing he needs is The Bumps on-top of everything.
“But, Mu…”
“I said out!” she cried again, ushering him out of the door. “He’s probably going to get it anyway now, he’s been exposed to all of you and he helped you up, Ron. Oh dear, it’s probably too late.”
“Well if he’s going to get it anyway, I may as well stay here!” protested Ron, Harry trying not laugh. Ron, however, was ushered out of the door by his Mother, who came back in again a few minutes later.
“How are you feeling, dear? Your lungs all right? That’s where it starts.”
“Yes, they’re fine. I just feel a little headachy that’s all. Ron just wanted to see how I was. We’ve got so much to talk about.” They did. Harry was desperate to talk to his friend about what had happened. Ron would listen; he would understand that he had no choice but to leave. He was also dying for Mr. Weasley to come home so he could at last find out what had happened to him two days ago.
“Yes, of course you do. But you still need a lot of rest, and you won’t get any at all if you have the Bumps.” Harry supposed she was right. The Bumps were funny to watch, but he didn’t fancy having them himself. He nodded and lay back. “If you need anything just shout. One of us will hear you. You’ll mend quickly enough. Your bruises have already gone down a lot, and you seemed to be walking fine just now.” Harry nodded again and felt a yawn approaching. “Now are you sure you aren’t getting the urge to sneeze or hiccup?” He shook his head, and she smiled. “Good. Sleep well Harry. I better go and see if I can’t do something about that lot.” He grinned then yawned. He turned over and fell asleep almost as soon as she had left the room.
Last edited by Krysta; 05-13-2008 at 11:41 AM.
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