A Word to the Wise

George was awoken the next day with a sharp plucking sensation from the back of his head. He gradually rolled over and opened his bloodshot eyes to find a blurry figure in a girl's school uniform looming over him with a few strands of brown hair pinched between her fingers. George instinctively tried to stretch but found his entire body was aching from top to bottom. It took him a full five seconds just to raise his hands and wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

His eyes slowly adjusted to the blue light pouring in from the not-so-Black Lake and George realised it was Gemma standing at his bedside with a very impatient look on her face. Her mood looked almost as bad as his. George looked at the time on his deactivated alarm clock and realised he'd only been allowed to sleep for fourteen hours.

Gemma made an obnoxiously loud declaration, "you better not fall back to sleep again or I'll be pulling something a lot more painful than hair off your body. Now, WAKE UP!"

George didn't even try to hide the sarcasm as he responded begrudgingly, "care to explain why you have blessed me with your esteemed presence?"

He didn't learn anything from his enquiry except that Gemma wasn't in an explaining mood. The last thing he saw was her enraged face before she bent over and lifted his mattress, forcibly rolling him out of bed. George fell out from under his quilt and hit the cold hard floor he'd become so intimate with ever since his alarm clock had turned into a defibrillator.

George rolled over onto his back, whilst listening to the symphony of his bones grinding together, and used his bedside cabinet to drag himself to his feet like an old man with arthritis. All the while, Gemma stared at him with her arms crossed and her foot impatiently tapping against the ground.

"Where's the fire?", George said whilst rubbing his bruised shoulder and collarbone.

Gemma picked up a pile of neatly folded clothes with a pair of shoes on top. She threw them hard against his chest causing him to quickly and painfully move his hands to catch them. The abrupt movement sent another sharp spasm down all of George's chest and arm muscles, he tried to hide the discomfort behind gritted teeth.

Thanks to George's partial transformation, his body had recovered at an insane pace whilst fighting with the troll. His only sustained injuries were from the shockwave of the explosion. His ears had healed before he'd made it to the hospital which made him look like he had gotten off lucky. Sadly, how George looked didn't accurately resemble how he was feeling.

George felt his pain could be compared with whatever Frankenstein's monster had to go through. None of his limbs felt like his own anymore. His arms and legs weren't doing what they were told and when they did decide to cooperate, the muscles would cramp up and spasm. A part of him hoped he would go to sleep and wake up the next day feeling as good as new, but the harsh reality came all too soon when he realised that his condition wasn't improving.

Gemma went ahead and made George's morning even worse, "Professor Dumbledore wants to see you in fifteen minutes. Get dressed fast or you can go in your pyjamas, it's not my problem either way."

Last night, Dumbledore had come to the hospital whilst George and the trio were being inspected by Pomfrey. He was very concerned about the troll and the explosion in particular. George overheard the old man talking to Snape and they more-or-less confirmed that he was responsible for the destruction. The two of them couldn't help but glance over in his direction whilst his wounds were tended to.

It was after another conversation with McGonagall and Dumbledore that the trio and himself were allowed to return to the dormitories and have a day off to recover. McGonagall essentially said they'd been through a lot and needed to get some much-earned rest. Her empathetic prognosis couldn't have been more welcomed by George as he was escorted back to the Slytherin common room by Snape.

Even though his Head of House was clearly gagging to metaphorically rip George apart for information, Snape managed to keep his mouth shut the whole time he was alone with George until they reached the common room.

Snape's only parting words were, "get some rest Mr Linwood. You're going to need it", before vanishing into the night like a phantom.

George had been deluding himself to believe he would get a full twenty-four hours of preparation time after Snape left him with such an ominous suggestion. Luckily, he wasn't foolish enough to not plan his testimony last night before he went to sleep. Now his time was up and Gemma had been given the luxurious task of sending him to the chopping block.

A couple of minutes later, they steadily ascended the moving staircases towards the headmaster's office. The meeting was scheduled at the end of the first period so the corridors were mostly empty. George had to take every step up the stairs one at a time as it felt like he was ascending Mount Everest. It was a far cry from the days of him leaping up the staircases like a gazelle.

Luckily for George, Gemma was willing to shove him up the stairs passive-aggressively from behind. It felt like his back was being used as a punching bag as she pounded his spine after every step. His brand new rib cage was being slowly tenderised as they ascended the many floors. The ever-increasing pain was making it very hard for George to concentrate on the upcoming interrogation.

Whether it be the audience with Dumbledore or his body failing him, Gemma's inexplicable tantrum was quite low on the list. That being said, George's patience had its limits and she was dangerously close to over-stepping it. He abruptly stopped climbing the stairs and turned around to face Gemma, his expression was stern as he looked down at her.

"What are you playing at?", George asked through gritted teeth.

Gemma poked his chest, "what do you think I'm doing? I'm pushing your lazy arse up the stairs."

George batted away her arm and corrected her, "you 'were' pushing me up the first flight of stairs. Now, you're pummelling me up each step. What's your problem?"

Noticing the seriousness in George's voice, Gemma appeared to hesitate before making her next witty remark. The words were stuck in her throat as she repeatedly opened her mouth but nothing came out. After a couple of seconds, her mischievous smile returned as she continued walking up the staircase.

"Fine, have it your way. Just don't fall behind", Gemma said as she walked past him.

She reached the top of the staircase and turned around only to find that George hadn't moved.

Gemma exaggeratedly put her hands on her hips, "well, what's the problem now?"

"You didn't answer the question", George responded.

"You're going to be late", Gemma said whilst pointing up the stairs.

"And?", George responded deadpan.

"You've just blown up a bathroom and killed a troll on your second month at Hogwarts and you're about to have a meeting with the headmaster. That's Professor Dumbledore in case you've forgotten, the guy with the big grey beard and the aura of absolute power", Gemma said with large pauses between each word like she was talking to a toddler.

"And?", George repeated.

Gemma's eyes bulged and her mouth fell open in bafflement as she realised how nonchalant George was behaving. Clearly, she'd been aiming to frighten him, but he wanted to make it plain to see that her unusual behaviour was taking precedence. She walked back down the stairs and grabbed him by the shoulders. Then she proceeded to shake him aggressively.

"You could be getting expelled for what you did. Don't you understand that!?", she said manically.

"Why are you worried about it? You're not going to get in trouble. You had nothing to do with me blowing up the bathroom or killing the troll", George asked.

Gemma let go of his shoulders and shook her head in disbelief, "it's the pureblood talk all over again. Why do you always make it so difficult for me?"

"You're the one being super vague?", George retorted.

Gemma pinched her brow and squeezed her eyes shut before saying, "alright alright, just give me a minute to think of how best to put this... Okay then, this might work."

Then she acted out an analogy with her hands, "attending Hogwarts is a bit like walking across a long bridge. Below everyone's bridge is an endless pit of certain death. The purebloods have bridges so wide that they can mess around and stumble without falling. Some of them, like the Malfoys, have railings so no matter what they do, they can't fall. But 'your' bridge is different from theirs, it's a whole lot narrower. You have to walk the straight and narrow path without any slip-ups, one wrong move and splat."

Gemma ended her pantomime by clapping her hands together. George almost smiled after hearing Gemma's simplified analogy for his current situation. To be fair, she wasn't wrong. He would be lying if he said he hadn't been plagued with nightmares about the poor decisions he had made yesterday. Last night wasn't without a few sessions of pacing around in the moonlight.

His knowledge had made him desperate to exploit everything he knew was going to occur, he'd been blinded by maximising his efficiency. The plan only required him to use the troll as an excuse to gain Hermione's friendship, but he'd gone the extra mile to develop a precarious scheme to use the troll as an occasion to practise in combat. Whether it be his pride or his lack of critical thinking, he'd made the wrong choice simply because he took a risk he didn't need to take and paid for it dearly.

In the hardest way possible, George learnt his lesson; never take risks no matter how low the odds are. Unlike Gemma, he didn't let his past mistakes cloud his judgement. There was no benefit in panicking now just because things had gone awry. It was up to him to pick up the pieces.

"Have I already fallen off my bridge?", George asked Gemma innocently.

"No, not yet. But you're hanging off the edge by your fingertips", Gemma corrected him reproachfully.

George looked down at his feet, "why are you telling me this?"

"Because the next few minutes will decide if you climb back up or fall. This 'talk' you're going to have with the headmaster is all that matters. You don't want to get expelled, right", Gemma explained.

George looked up at her and nodded his head.

Gemma's smile returned, "right then, you have to listen to every word I say and act how I tell you to act in front of the headmaster. First of all, being early is never a bad thing and we're about to be late. So stop dragging your feet and get a move on, I'll explain the rest on the way there."

Gemma proceeded to pull out her wand and jab it against George's arm. A bolt of electricity arced from the tip of her wand onto his skin, causing his hand to spasm uncontrollably. He took a step back and held his arm like it had been dislocated to hide the uncontrollable spasms.

"What was that for?", George asked her reproachfully.

She waved her wand threateningly, "every minute that you're not in the headmaster's office, I'm going to shock you. It should act as a good motivator for you if expulsion wasn't bad enough."

George ran some quick maths in his head, "even if I ran there, it would take at least five minutes to reach the headmaster's office."

Gemma smirked deviously whilst shrugging her shoulders, "well, I guess you better get a move on then."

George and Gemma were now standing outside of the headmaster's office with thirty seconds to spare. It took them just over four minutes to ascend the staircases and George's twitching right arm was evidence of that fact. Gemma had been so kind as to increase the intensity of the electric shocks making every subsequent jab more painful than the last.

During the motivational intervals, George was gifted with words of wisdom on how to dodge his punishment. He wasn't wrong about Gemma in his presumption that she had been well-experienced in the art of getting in trouble. She had a credible answer for every enquiry Dumbledore might make into the accident.

George wasn't initially surprised Gemma knew about the explosion because she was a Prefect. However, the level of detail she was privy to was above and beyond what someone in her position needed to know. Although he had no idea how she had managed it, Gemma must have done her own private investigation last night and found out all the critical details.

Gemma wore makeup just like all the other girls at Hogwarts, but after closer inspection, George found that her eyes looked particularly red. He presumed Gemma must have spent the entire night awake which would provide an adequate justification for her irritable behaviour. The lengths she'd gone through to ensure he had a good story to tell Dumbledore were far beyond what he would have expected from her.

Although George spent a fair bit of time with her over the past two months, their relationship hadn't evolved any further since their experience stealing from the potion's classroom. This left George questioning her hidden motivations. Regardless of the stimulus for her abnormal behaviour, the outcome was helping George.

Gemma had many useful excuses George hadn't considered before. Her constant words of wisdom made the pain worth bearing, she could become a lawyer as a defence attorney after she left Hogwarts. George sighed and looked at Gemma with a pitiful smile, she would have to leave him here.

"I guess this is where we say goodbye", he said despondently.

She stared back at him anxiously, "remember everything I told you. You must emphasise the fact that you were scared and weren't thinking clearly. Your actions are in the heat of the moment and not premeditated. He can't expel you for an accident when you're so young, that's the bottom line."

In an attempt to lighten the mood, George pulled out a galleon from his pocket, "you're starting to sound like my attorney. I should give you this so we can keep the attorney-client privilege."

Gemma chuckled while pulling the coin out of his hand, "I don't know what you take me for, my services are a lot more expensive than this. I'll have my secretary write you a check. Expect it to be delivered by owl within the next five working days."

"Here I was, thinking you're working pro bono, and now I've found out you don't even work on contingency. I think it would be in my best interest to look for other legal counsel", George said with a smile.

Then George was suddenly embraced in a tight hug. Gemma inadvertently dealt yet another blow to him, resulting in his frail ribs quivering and evacuation of all of the air out of his lungs. Before George could gasp for air, she quickly let go of him and took a few steps back.

Gemma said abruptly, "take care of yourself", before turning around to leave.

George took a deep breath in and subsequently coughed a few times, it felt like being crushed by the troll all over again. After he recomposed himself, he looked up and saw that Gemma had already rounded the corner and was out of sight. Then he looked back toward the stairwell leading to the headmaster's office and realised that Gemma had forgotten to say the password. Luckily for Gemma, George was already well aware of many of the passwords at Hogwarts including the one to the headmaster's office.

George stared at the massive bronze statue of a Gryphon and clearly declared, "Pepper Imps."

The sound of stones grinding on top of each other could be heard moments after he spoke the magic words. Then the Griffin started to rotate clockwise and rise into the air. A spiral of stone steps appeared at the foot of the gryphon which George took the initiative to step onto as they raised. He rose alongside the Griffin gargoyle until he reached an old black door intricately decorated with huge cast-iron hinges in the shape of feathers and bird talons.

George's anxiety was starting to show as his jaw was impulsively clenching and his hands were tightly formed into fists. He'd drunk so much Calming Draught yesterday, he still had the dregs of the potion running through his system, but that was far from enough to deal with this situation. He pulled out another two vials from his leather sack and drank them both simultaneously. Any thoughts of regret, hesitation or panic vanished In an instant as he raised his hand to knock on the door.

Just as George's hand was about to make contact, he heard a calm but ominous voice from inside the room, "I've been expecting you, George. You may enter."