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HPTD - CH 116 - Crying Over Pork Buns
🕑 Added 2025-04-28 13:19:37 +0000 UTCBen shoved his hands into his pockets as he strolled into the hospital wing.
Everyone was awake; he’d already treated them anyway. All Madam Pomfrey had to do was enervate them and fill their starved bellies.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were huddled together on a bed. Then there was a bed covered with curtains that Ben figured must be Lockhart’s, and at the end were Cho and Marianne’s beds.
More importantly, the room wasn’t crawling with angry parents. Just two.
The school must not have had time to send word before it was all over. And now that everyone was alive, they were probably chalking it up to 'no news is good news.'
Cho’s parents hovered near her bed, looking terribly concerned.
Ben spotted no one near Marianne. Odd.
He made his way down the row. Behind him, he heard a small scuffle of feet. Dobby, still wearing the absurd pink hat like a crown, had followed him.
The elf froze when he saw Harry, and with a little gasp, half-ran, half-tripped toward him.
"Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!" Dobby babbled, voice high and frantic. "Dobby is free, sir! Thanks to Harry Potter’s great, brave friend, Ben Brown, sir!"
Harry blinked in confusion. Ron stared dumbfoundedly. Hermione looked surprised, seeing a house elf for the first time.
Ben gave him a lazy wave. "Yeah, yeah, you're welcome. Now pipe down before Madam Pomfrey skins you."
Dobby nodded furiously, but he was too excited to actually stay still. He kept vibrating in place like he might burst into confetti. Ben left him to it.
He caught Harry, Ron, and Hermione shooting him sour looks.
'Definitely no hard feelings here,' he thought dryly, sliding the curtain open on Lockhart’s bed.
Lockhart was perched atop his bed, trying — and failing — to teach a hospital broom to bow like a gentleman.
"Good form, good form — always make a first impression!" Lockhart chirped, tapping the broom’s handle with his wand. The broom quivered uncertainly, then clattered to the floor.
Lockhart tutted at it, hands on his hips. "You’re not becoming famous with that attitude."
That’s when he spotted Ben peeking through the curtains and lit up like a Christmas tree.
"You! Handsome boy, you’re back!" Lockhart called, waving with far too much enthusiasm. "You must be a fan — no need to be shy, I’ll sign an autograph for you!"
Ben slammed the curtain shut.
"Keep it, mate. You’ve already marked me 'handsome' on my robes," he snorted, and kept moving.
From behind the curtain, Lockhart's voice floated out. "Ah, well, he’s probably just... overwhelmed by my sheer brilliance..."
He had no clue what to do with Lockhart. Dumbledore hadn’t mentioned him either. It was only November, and Lockhart was technically employed until next year. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if Dumbledore just let him keep teaching Defence.
Cho’s mother spotted him when he got near her bed.
"You," she said, rising unsteadily with a tissue still clutched in one hand. "You're Ben, aren't you?"
"Er," he said, slowing his pace. "Yeah?"
Before he could say anything else, Mrs Chang’s hands gripped his firmly, trembling slightly.
"Thank you," she said, her voice shaking with sincerity. "Thank you for bringing our daughter back. You don't know—"
Her voice cracked, and she quickly pressed the tissue harder to her mouth. Ben felt the weight of her gratitude, his awkwardness only growing.
Cho’s dad stood too, quieter, but his face was just as tight with emotion.
"We owe you more than we can say," he said, his voice thick.
Ben shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of their thanks. "Um, it wasn't just me," he said quickly. "Harry helped. Hermione too. Ron... even Lockhart, sorta."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron scowling at him from across the room.
'Yeah, I should have let you get mauled by a basilisk. My apologies for stepping in and ruining your chance to heroically face your fears,' he thought sarcastically. 'Some days, you just can't win.'
Cho’s dad gave him a brief, quiet chuckle, giving his shoulder a comforting pat. "No need to be modest," he said simply. "You did more than anyone could’ve asked for."
Mrs Chang nodded fiercely, blinking away tears. "A brave boy," she said, her voice softening. "A good boy. I told Cho, I said—"
She trailed off when she glanced at her daughter. Cho was still staring blankly at her hands, lost in thought.
Ben scratched the back of his head, fumbling for something to say that didn’t sound so…awkward. "She’s tough," he said, a little too quickly. "Hardly needed rescuing."
Mrs Chang wiped her eyes again, giving him a grateful squeeze before letting go. "You must come to our house for lunch," she said briskly, trying to regain some composure. "When school is out. We’ll cook properly for you. Not this hospital food nonsense."
A loud crash came from Madam Pomfrey’s office, followed by a muffled curse. Ben rolled his eyes. 'Great, Pomfrey’s got ears like a hawk. Hope she’s not heard me talking about her food.'
Madam Cho fished around in her handbag and handed him a neat little box wrapped in checkered cloth.
"Just a few dumplings," she said, voice warm, even through her sniffles. "Eat them while they’re hot."
Ben blinked down at the bundle in his hands, a bit taken aback by the gesture.
"Thanks," he said, his voice softening.
Cho’s dad clapped him on the shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "Take care of yourself, son."
Ben gave them a quick, lopsided grin, then met Cho’s eyes for a moment. "Don’t worry about her," he said, more seriously now, his voice carrying a quiet confidence. "She’s stronger than anyone gives her credit for. She’ll be fine."
Cho didn’t react, still lost in her thoughts. But he saw the faintest hint of a flicker in her eyes, just for a moment.
Ben decided it was best to give her another day. He turned and gave them a final nod, retreating before Mrs Chang could thrust more well-intentioned gifts at him.
He made his way to Marianne.
"Thought you went off to the kitchens looking for pudding," he said.
"Yeah, Flitwick caught me," she said, "sent me right back here."
Marianne was munching on a biscuit, probably a get-well gift from the Ravenclaw team he'd passed on his way in.
"Your lot not here?" he asked lightly.
She shook her head. "Nope."
Ben waited. She didn’t offer anything else.
He flopped down onto the chair beside her bed, stretching his legs out.
"What, they figure you could handle a basilisk on your own?"
Marianne picked at a loose thread on her blanket. "Nah. They’re... gone. Death Eaters. Ages ago."
Ben sat up a little straighter.
"Oh."
It was a common backstory in the wizarding world. A lot of dead parents — it was a surprise there was no Batman yet.
"I grew up with my gran mostly. She was brilliant. Bit batty. Made the best rock cakes you’ve ever broken a tooth on."
Ben smiled.
"She passed last year," Marianne went on with an easy shrug. "After that, Ministry stuck me with some cousin on paper — bloke lives somewhere in Wales. Don’t really see him much. He's got a flat or something. Technically, I'm his responsibility — practically, I'm free-range."
"Sounds ideal," Ben said dryly.
"Yeah, it's brilliant," Marianne said, grinning. "Nobody nags me to clean my room. I’ve got a house-elf. His name’s Butters. Makes terrible tea, excellent toast."
Ben chuckled. "So what I'm hearing is, you're actually living the dream."
"Exactly," Marianne said. She bumped her shoulder lightly against his. "Way better than getting fussed over until you explode. Speaking of — are you gonna share those dumplings or not?"
Ben smirked. "With you? I’d be lucky if the box survived."
She gave him a cheeky grin. "Come on, Brown. Pork buns or I start crying. Loudly. Right here."
Ben snorted. "You’re evil."
"Yup," she said, already reaching. "And you love it."
Ben shook his head, laughing under his breath as he cracked open the box and shoved it at her.
"Fine," he said. "But if you eat them all—"
"—you'll cry about it later. Got it," Marianne cut in.
-To be Continued..
Comments
Prashant Deopa
Oh god. That was actually Marietta Edgecombe. It is my fault that I didn't notice the similarity until it was too late. I should probably start referring to Marianne as Ann or Annie.
Vick
Marianne get a lot more likable after she stop being a annoying jerk
