~*Blackbird singing in the dead of
Take these broken wings and learn
All your life*~
Ron flipped idly through the large book, not really concentrating on
anything. The flames danced happily in the fire, and he thought about just throwing
the whole book into it. He knew he should be studying, but History of Magic was
just so boring. Especially the blue period, why do I need to learn about the
centaur revolution of 1346? Why is it called the blue period in the first
place? I wonder what were having for breakfast tomorrow. Maybe some buttered toast, or maybe some of those really good-
His wandering thoughts were soon interrupted as Hermione came in through the
portrait hole, laughing with Harry. Ron watched as Harry put his arm on Hermioneís
shoulder, making them both crack up. Ron felt a twinge in his stomach, as
Hermione, doubled up with laughter, sent an air kiss towards Harry. When they
finally neared him, Ron, trying to seem casual, asked, "Whatís so
Harry looked at Hermione, who was batting her eyelashes at him, and burst
into more laughter,
"All of Gryffindor-,"
"Some Hufflepuffís too," added Harry, still
"They think Harry and I are a couple!"
"Thatís funny," said Ron, trying to figure out what the feeling in
the pit of his stomach was. The night progressed and soon Ron had forgotten
about the incident, but the feeling in his stomach still lingered.
"Iím going up too bed, itís way too late," said Hermione shutting
her Rune Dictionary with a thud.
"Sounds like a-," Harry yawned, "plan, sweetheart." he
said with a perfectly straight face.
"Iíll see you in the morning, snufflypoodles." Said
Hermione, who didnít even crack a smile.
"Snuffypoodles?" asked Harry, bursting into laughter. Ron felt
that twinge again as he forced himself to laugh along with them.
"Gínight lovebirds," said Ron sarcastically, rolling up his
parchment and heading towards the spiral stairs.
Hermione was still awake, yet tired, as she lay under her covers, staring at
the ceiling. Her thoughts meandered around obscure topics, as they do at night,
before finally landing on Viktor.†
Itís so weird that they thought that, I mean everyone knows Iím with
Viktor, we havenít seen him since August
Yeah, I guess
He is my boyfriend
If thatís what you want to call it
What do you mean?
We havenít seen him since August, we only write, he lives miles and miles
Banishing the thoughts away, she snuggled deeper under the covers, clutching
the white owl stuffed animal that Victor had given her, tightly. She smiled,
the Quidditch jersey she had borrowed from Victor and had forgotten to give
back, -she was using as a nightshirt-, still had that Victor-smell. Sort of
like pine trees, and winter. Thatís rubbish, she thought one last time,
before she fell into a dreamless sleep.†