Unlocked

"Hey Harry, how's your girlfriend?"

Harry Potter felt his cheeks begin to burn. Why couldn't Draco Malfoy just leave him alone? Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone?

"I don't have a girlfriend," he said softly.

"Oh, what about the Weaselette? Word is you two are an item." Malfoy said with a sneer.

"Yeah, you and the Weaselette!" repeated Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, who were never very far from Malfoy.

That the Slytherin group had heard such a thing was no surprise. Lavender Brown had seen the two walking together after last weeks Quidditch match, and everyone knows Lavender Brown is Hogwart's Queen of Gossip.

"Potter and Weaselette, the Golden Couple. I can see the Daily Prophet headline now." Malfoy smirked and leaned forwards. "Do you reckon she's after your money, Potter? After all, she is a pureblood, so she's probably smart enough to try and marry rich."

Harry's anger flared. "Shut it Malfoy! You're nothing but a daddy's boy, anyways!"

Malfoy took a step back at his counterpart's obvious anger, before scowling. "You take that back, Potter!"

Harry smirked. "Or what, you'll tell your father about it?"

Draco whipped his wand out and pointed it at the boy in front of him. "Or I'll hex you so hard there'll be nothing left for the Dark Lord to try and kill."

Harry also had his wand out and pointed at the other boy, but instead of throwing a hex or jinx, he lowered it and took a step forwards. "Oh really? And end up in Azkaban in a cell right next to your worthless father?"

Harry knew he'd gone too far the moment the words had left his mouth. Draco's father had been arrested only the week before, and it was mostly Harry's fault. But he had been desperate to turn the other boys attention away from himself, and the blistering comment had left his lips before he could stop it.

Harry might not have lashed out at Malfoy quite so horribly if he hadn't already been upset over the fact that Umbridge had given him detention after dinner that night. As far as Harry was concerned, detention with Umbridge was not much different than being slowly eaten by a thousand Hungarian Horntails - except that, given the choice, he would have opted for the Hungarian Horntails. He could not think of anything more excruciating than detention with that ugly, fat bitch. And so, Harry lashed out in his anger at the nearest thing to him, his words vitriolic and meant to intentionally hurt the other boy.

So it came as no surprise that Harry was now seated on a bed in the infirmary, being treated by the school mediwitch, Poppy Pomfrey.

"Tsk tsk, Mr. Potter. You are in here much too often for my liking." She said as she bustled towards him, a vial of green potion in her hand.

"I know, Madam Pomfrey. I'm just really clumsy." He said back, an attempt at an innocent smile on his face. The effect was ruined somewhat by the giant boils that had taken up residence on the left side of his face, but he tried his hardest.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't fooled in the least, and she handed him the potion while eyeing him skeptically. "Yes, because the effects of Boilus Maximus can be gotten easily by tripping down the stairs."

Harry sighed and downed the potion, closing his eyes as it began to take effect. The slight tingling feeling started at the top of his face and flowed downwards, and when it had reached the bottom he opened his eyes. "Yes, well, it seems I'm a special case." He said while handing the empty vial back.

Poppy sighed and shook her head, smiling slightly. "What are we going to do with you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry grinned at the mediwitch, before turning as the Hospital Wing doors opened and his friends ran into the room.

"Harry! Mate, I heard what happened from Dean, are you all right?"

He nodded at Ron, before shrugging. "Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix."

"Oh Harry, honestly! You need to be more careful!" Hermione admonished him sternly, her bushy hair bristling with her ire. Harry and Ron exchanged exasperated looks.

"I'm fine, Mione, honest."

She huffed at him, before turning towards the infirmary doors. "Come on, Ronald, we still have an essay to write for History of Magic."

Ron sighed dejectedly, before turning to go after her. "See ya later, Harry." He said over his shoulder, and then they were both gone.

Harry smiled after them for a moment, amused. He turned around when he heard the mediwitch clear her throat, and looked up to see her moving her hands in a shooing motion.

"Well, off with you! Can't have you being late for lunch, Mr. Potter!"

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey." He said, as he slid from the bed he had been seated on and stepped towards the infirmary doors.

"Of course, Mr. Potter. And I don't want to see you back in here for at least a week, is that clear?" She glared at him, but he could see the amusement in her eyes.

Grinning, he nodded, saluting her with a "Yes, ma'am," before stepping out the door and into the corridor.