Anthony said goodbye to the four in the hospital wing and was about to leave. At the door, he ran into a bedraggled Percy, dripping with melted snow.
Percy looked like he'd just escaped a particularly vicious snowball fight. He was rubbing his nose, trailing behind a sullen-looking Ginny while sternly insisting she take a Pepperup Potion. Ginny's gloves and trouser cuffs were soaked, the hem of her robes dripping.
"Good afternoon, Mr. and Miss Weasley," Anthony said, stepping aside to let them in.
"Good afternoon, Professor Anthony," Percy said primly, then spotted the very conspicuous other redhead in the ward. "Ron, what are you doing here?" His gaze swept over the slightly swaying curtains—Sirius had managed to tuck himself away with impressive speed—and his frown deepened.
"Don't go poking your noses where they don't belong," Percy said.
"Sounds like you know what's behind them," Ron shot back.
Percy's face flushed slightly, affronted. "Whether I know or not is none of your concern, Ron. Regardless, if Madam Pomfrey and the professors deem certain matters unsuitable for younger students"—he put a pointed emphasis on younger students, puffing out his chest to display his Prefect badge—"then I certainly won't be telling you. Go on back, it's nearly dinner time."
Hermione looked up at the clock as he spoke and gasped. "Merlin, it's already five! We were supposed to start revising at half-past four!"
Just then, Madam Pomfrey emerged from her small side room.
"Why is the ward so full again today?" she grumbled, setting down a tray. She fixed Harry with a stare until he promised to leave immediately.
"Pepperup?" she asked, glancing at Percy and Ginny. They nodded. Her tone softened slightly. "Hmm, yes, better to come before the sneezing and runny noses start. Saves you a lot of misery. Here."
Percy took the crystal vial with thanks, then firmly handed one to Ginny, watching as she reluctantly downed it. Under Madam Pomfrey's watchful eye, the three of them walked past.
"Be careful, Ron," Percy warned. "Mum and Dad are preparing to visit Bill. Don't cause any trouble for them now."
Ron snorted dismissively in acknowledgment.
"He doesn't actually know what's on that bed," Ron whispered, turning to Harry and Hermione.
Anthony heard it. And judging by Percy's expression, he probably did too.
"Ron—" Percy began.
A huge cloud of steam erupted violently from Ginny's ears. Harry's glasses instantly fogged over. Hermione yelped, jumping half a step to the side.
Ginny's face turned a shade of crimson that could drip blood. Clapping her hands over her still-hissing ears, she shrieked, "I'm so sorry!"
"Oh… s'alright," Harry said, sounding startled but quickly grinning. "Didn't expect that." He took his glasses off and wiped them on his sleeve.
Another puff of steam escaped between her fingers and ears. Ginny looked mortified, almost despairing.
"Really, it's fine, Ginny," Harry reassured her, perching his haphazardly cleaned glasses back on his nose.
"HARRY SAID IT'S FINE, GINNY!" Ron bellowed. He shrugged at Harry and laughed. "Her ears are blocked with steam. She can't hear you if you talk like that."
"SHOUTING IS PROHIBITED IN THE HOSPITAL WING!" Madam Pomfrey roared, furious.
"Yes, sorry, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said almost instantly. Percy shot her an approving look.
Ron clamped his mouth shut. He looked at Harry's glasses, then at Ginny's steaming ears. His mouth twitched.
Scarlet-faced, Ginny glared daggers at Ron, shoved past Percy, and fled the hospital wing, hands still clamped over her ears. Steam continued to puff from between her fingers. Ron couldn't hold it in anymore. He burst out laughing.
…
At dinner, Ginny's ears were still steaming. Fortunately, after a day of snowball fights, quite a few students at each House table were in the same state. The Gryffindor table seemed particularly dense with vapor-heads. Hermione was eating peas while holding a very long scroll and explaining something. Judging by the expressions on Harry and Ron's faces, it was likely a Transfiguration revision list.
Most of the professors were absent from the staff table. Gilderoy Lockhart slid into the seat next to Anthony with his usual radiant energy. After a simple "Good evening," he somehow steered the conversation to an anecdote from one of his early adventures, then to the recent activities of Hogwarts's "Lock Your Heart" club.
"Been rather busy lately, hmm, Henry?" Lockhart said. "I know, I know, it surely can't compare to teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts for seven years, answering fan mail, and writing new books. But, honestly, Gilderoy Lockhart may have his minor flaws"—he leaned in conspiratorially—"a distaste for lettuce, for instance—but I would never be so arrogant as to believe myself the standard. Besides, all three of those endeavors are my great passions. I would never abandon the fight against the dark arts, nor forget my dear readers."
"That's good, Professor Lockhart," Anthony said distractedly. "Wonderful to have work you enjoy."
"Oh, of course, I have always been the fortunate one. As I said in my latest autobiography—allow me to quote—'Luck and skill, two indispensable elements in any successful adventure.'" Lockhart beamed. "I happened to elaborate on this very point during last week's club meeting. Oh, speaking of which, have you noticed the little decorations in the staff room?"
Anthony looked up. "Hard to miss them."
"Ha! I knew it!" Lockhart said triumphantly. "I noticed you all seem to enjoy them so much you haven't tried changing them. Though, I did make a little adjustment this morning. Swapped the gold paper for silver. It complements the sky-blue better, don't you think?"
"Perhaps," Anthony said, spearing his fourth-to-last roast potato and taking a sip of onion soup.
"Though I'm considering switching back to gold for Christmas," Lockhart mused. "Oh, and I was thinking of decorating the stone gargoyles by the entrance for the holidays… perhaps little hats…" He tapped his chin lightly, adopting a perfectly contemplative expression.
"Sounds festive," Anthony said. He ate his last salty potato chunk with satisfaction and stood. "Enjoy your dinner, Professor Lockhart."
Lockhart flashed a gleaming smile. "Thank you, Henry."
Before any more words could follow, Anthony made a swift escape. He could feel his Wraith Chicken and Wraith Mouse back in his office, and he was eager to return.
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