"I promise Harry Potter," said Dobby in a solemn tone. "Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. Poke a dagger through my toe, shove rocks where they should not go. Peel my skin back from my arm, do myself all sorts of harm--"
"That's enough promising," Harry interrupted.
"Yeah, how can you say stick a needle in my eye to Harry after Samhain?" demanded Draco. And then, to Harry. "Besides, you told me that was a Muggle oath."
"I thought it was." Harry cast a questioning glance at Dobby, who blushed a bright green.
"Dobby overheard a Muggleborn child and thought it would be making a fine elf-oath."
Harry had to repress an urge to shudder at the way Dobby had added to the original rhyme he must have heard. "All right. Well, that's all I needed, Dobby. Thanks for coming so fast. I'm sure Draco feels loads better now."
Dobby turned toward the Slytherin boy, but didn't say anything. He snapped his fingers and was gone.
"Well, that was awfully brusque," said Draco in a petulant tone.
"Do you feel better?"
Draco brandished his borrowed wand and banished his soup, then got up, tossed Floo powder into the grate, and ordered another identical bowl. "Some," he finally admitted as he began to eat. "But there's too much salt."
Harry laughed a little, buoyed not only by the humour but also by the casual way Draco had pulled his wand from his pocket, as if he was used to carrying it around, now. Yet another restriction Snape had lifted, it seemed.
But that made sense. If Draco was going to come back to classes, he'd have to have a wand to carry about.
------------------------------------------------------
"Yes, Ron," said Seamus on Monday morning. "We know you rescued Harry. We know all about it. We read the papers, too, you know."
"Not to mention you've told us the whole story about twelve times," added Dean.
"And it just keeps getting better each time!" Seamus turned to Harry, the pumpkin juice in his goblet sloshing as he pointed with the hand holding it. "Did Nott really threaten to hex Ron to a puddle of mush if he didn't back off, and did Ron really reply... how did it go... Do your worst. I can take you any day of the week... well, Harry?"
Harry caught Ron's eye and grinned. "Hmm. Odd, I don't really remember that."
"Ha!" shouted Seamus, setting his goblet down with a thud.
"But then again, I don't remember much. It's all a blur," added Harry. He had to work hard not to laugh at the visible sigh of relief Ron gave to that.
"You shouldn't encourage him," said Hermione later on their way to Charms. Ron was walking a few steps behind, impressing some second-years with tales of his bravery. "He really is... milking this."
Harry shrugged. "Hey, the story in the paper yesterday morning was very complimentary."
"Ha. It was very inaccurate," said Hermione, tossing her hair.
"Hermione," warned Harry, giving her a strong glance. They were all supposed to support the cover story.
"That Skeeter woman said that Lavender Brown was his girlfriend!" she explained indignantly.
"Oh, that." Harry somehow managed not to grin.
"He should be up here with us, anyway, instead of basking in... Ron!" she suddenly shouted as she looked over his shoulder.
He jogged to catch up. "Sorry, Harry."
"You know, I'm not as helpless as all that," said Harry in an undertone. "I bet, if you hadn't... er, come when you had, I'd have been just fine, eh? Think you can tone it down a bit? The braver you get the stupider I look!"
Ron dropped his voice to a whisper. "Yeah, but that's good, I thought."
"Yeah, I know," said Harry, his own voice pitched equally low. "Oh well, doesn't matter. I just don't get how anybody could actually like so much attention." It came to him then that really, it was just as well that the press was giving all the heroics to Ron. Goodness knew, Harry didn't need or want any more acclaim.
And for all the things that were untrue in the article, the important things had come across nicely. Skeeter had even gotten Draco's name right. Phrases like fully exonerated, expelled without a shred of real proof, and innocent all along had made sure that the Prophet's readership knew what a raw deal Draco Snape had got.
Harry had been pretty surprised to see the article have such a tone. He'd expected Lucius Malfoy to interfere with the reporting. The fact that he hadn't was pretty scary, actually. Did he want Draco reinstated so that he'd be easier to snatch? His whole plan to force Draco out of the castle had failed miserably, after all.
But Dumbledore had that angle covered. Lucius couldn't enter the castle without an escort, now. Hmm, maybe Harry should mention that Draco really ought to start wearing his amulet again, so he'd know if Lucius was anywhere around...
"Harry?" Hermione poked him in the shoulder.
Only then did Harry realise he'd been wool-gathering. They were in Charms class by now, and the whole class was staring at him. So was Flitwick.
Realising he must have been asked a question, Harry went with a wild guess. "Um, four?"
"Excellent!" said Flitwick, nodding. "Two points to Gryffindor. Now, Miss Lovegood. How many different kinds of communication charms are there?"
Luna's breathy voice came from somewhere behind Harry and seemed to drift over the whole class like a slow-moving fog. "Well," she said, "it depends. When all it takes is hurlyburly to draw you into the zone of total silence... I had a hurlyburly whisper in my ear, once... Why, I couldn't even speak for days..."
Meanwhile, to Harry's left, Ron was whispering to Padma that no, he hadn't been scared in Hogsmeade. "There was no time for fear," he said, nodding sagely, just as if he really had fought Harry's battle for him.
Grinning, Harry wondered if Luna knew where he could hunt up one of these hurlyburlies.
------------------------------------------------------
Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon was down by the lake. Nott wasn't there, of course, but the rest of the sixth-year Slytherins were. They glared at Harry like they'd like to drown him.
As if it was Harry's fault that Nott had turned out to be a murdering bastard! Pansy had been one of their own; didn't they even care that Nott had killed her?
It made Harry sort of worried about how Slytherin was going to treat Draco.
When Hagrid finished talking about the tiny waddlepaters that inhabited the waters lapping the shore, he told everybody to take off shoes and socks so they could wade in and collect some. Harry paired with Ron and soon they had their trouser legs rolled up past their knees.
"Now, see yer nice 'n careful collectin' yer waddlepaters," cautioned Hagrid as he lumbered around the groups of students, his meaty legs raising waves that lapped past Harry's knees. "Professor Snape needs 'em whole and wrigglin'."
Harry hadn't realised they were collecting the big-eyed bugs for potions ingredients, but he mentally shrugged and found a couple more to scoop into his pail.
Suddenly, something shoved him from behind and he found himself sprawling forward into the cold lake water. His glasses fell off but he grabbed them quickly and shoved them back up on his nose.
As Harry climbed to his feet once more, drenched and shivering, Ron took up a position as though to guard him, his wand out and waving. "All right, who did that? Which one of you pushed Harry?"
One thing was sure. Whoever had done it had used magic. Nobody but Ron was anywhere near him.
"I'll not have any roughhousin' in my class," bellowed Hagrid, his burly arms crossed. "That'll be ennuf a' that, it will!"
Hermione began edging closer to Harry, her partner Parvati trailing behind. Ron and Hermione kept a closer lookout after that, but nothing else happened.