Notes: Oh my goodness, an update. Just when you’d given up
all hope. I apologize for my horrible oversight of Rene Bouchard’s name…alas, I
spelled it with two e’s, and I have been told that
that makes his name feminine. This could spawn many jokes amongst the staff of
Hogwarts, but I think I should fix it in later chapters, just to be nice to
To those who were wondering, the last review song was
to “Sweet Dreams Are Made of These” by The Eurythmics
and/or Marilyn Manson o_0. Sorry it wasn’t very good, but I was pressed for
time, and Calculus owned my brain at the time. Hopefully the review song at the
end of this chapter will be better.
And yes, I’m Canadian, to whoever asked. Proof: Roll
up the rim to win! I can also hum the Hockey Night in Canada theme.
Big thanks, as always, to Night Zephyr, who proved
that I wasn’t insane and that Rictusempra really is
the Tickling Spell; they just messed it up in the movie. ^_^
"Now I know what you're
thinking!" Professor Weasley shouted, furiously pacing the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The desks had been pushed against
the walls (by a rather violent spell of Ron’s) in order to give the class more
space. The students, a collection of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, were all bunched together, pressed up against
the wall as well and watching their teacher's pacing apprehensively.
Professor Weasley continued, "that dueling is quick, right? Harmless! A
simple Disarming Spell, and you're done. That's what
you're thinking. Isn't that what you were thinking, Mr. McNeal?!"
The fifth-year Gryffindor
shrunk against the wall. "Yes," he said quickly. "Yes, that's
exactly what I was thinking..."
"Well you thought wrong!" Ron hollered, pounding his
fist on the wall and causing Hannah Longley to shriek and jump backwards,
falling into one of the desks. "Dueling is about who - can - survive - the
- longest. If you're in a duel with a qualified wizard, they aren't going to
mess about with Disarming Spells! Oh no, they're much…" Ron narrowed his
eyes, "…much too advanced for
that. They'll hurl every curse they've got at you. Freezing Spells, Blinding Spells,
Memory Charms - and do you think you can block
every single one of those spells, Mr. O'Connor?"
Shaun O'Connor paused,
considering this. "Yes?" he tried. He flinched as Professor Weasley
banged his fist on the wall again.
"No!" he snapped.
"Of course you can't! You have to be fast! Alert! Practice constant
vigilance!" he roared. Ron suddenly stopped and blinked, having surprised
He had been in a foul mood
ever since Percy's wedding. Not only had he succeeded in making a fool out of
himself in front of his family, all those Muggles,
and the Minister for Magic, but he'd also nearly exposed the Weasleys. As a horrified Percy explained later, no Muggle would have actually tackled someone during the
throwing of the bouquet - it was supposed to be a fun sort of game. Plus, it
was only for single women. Ron hadn't
ever felt more humiliated in his entire life, and it was all Hermione's fault.
She hadn't explained the concept of the game properly! She hadn't warned him it
was only for women (though she claimed
she did, of course, which didn't convince him for a moment - he wasn't that pig-headed, to have missed a
warning like that). And, to make matters worse, she had laughed at him along
with the rest. She had stood there and laughed, she
The worst part was that she
still wasn't taking his anger seriously. Hermione seemed to think it was all a
funny misunderstanding, and now some sort of joke. But Ron Weasley's
pride had suffered a blow. And when Ron Weasley's
pride suffered a blow…
"Good heavens, what is going on in here?" came the sound of Hermione’s voice. She stepped through the
door, which had been left open, and into the classroom. Narrowing his eyes,
Professor Weasley spun around, glaring at her.
"Oh, hello Professor
Granger," he said coldly. "Why, I was just pointing out that O'Connor
here is an idiot. Now if you'll
excuse us…" Behind him, the students gave Professor Granger a few pleading
Hermione gave him an amused
look as she took another step into the classroom. She obviously still thought
it was all a big joke. Though it was true that Ron wasn't angry with her, per se, he was still offended and irritated. And
now she was strolling into his classroom as if she owned the castle.
Professor Weasley folded his arms. “We’re covering dueling,” he snapped.
Hermione said lightly, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I
wasn't aware dueling consisted of a lot of banging on the walls and
A few of the girls in the
class giggled, while a couple of the boys snickered. Professor Weasley threw an
authoritative glare their way, which quickly silenced them.
"I wasn't aware you
were in the habit of teaching other classes, Professor," Ron countered
through clenched teeth.
"I'm sorry, am I
interrupting the lesson, Professor Weasley?"
"Yes, I believe we
already established that, Professor Granger."
"Well, you're obviously
the expert here, so I'll leave you to
your devices, Professor."
The students' heads swung
back and forth, watching their verbal sparring.
"Was that sarcasm, Professor?"
"Perhaps you'd like to teach the class,
Professor." Hermione surprised the class, especially Ron,
by taking out her wand and pointing it in the vague direction of Professor
Weasley. "I expect you've covered both disarming and blocking? Because I
could demonstrate - "
"Are you challenging me
to a duel?" Ron exclaimed in surprise.
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"I don't believe I was,” she said slowly. “Are you challenging me to a duel?"
"Well, if the shoe
Hermione replied coolly, rolling up her sleeves.
"That was a joke, Herm
- I mean, Professor," Ron said quickly. He tried pushing her towards the
door. "Now run along, I expect you have classes to teach - "
Hermione didn't budge.
Instead, she folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting
I'm incapable of dueling at a fifth-year level?"
"Was that an insult to
us?" Paul White whispered to his best friend, Roger Ramone.
Roger shrugged his shoulders.
Ron attempted to hold back.
He attempted to shut his mouth. But he just couldn't resist.
Weasley grinned smugly. "I'm suggesting you're incapable of dueling me."
The class, now thoroughly
enjoying the entertainment, let out a collective "Ooooh…"
Hermione's eyes flashed
dangerously. She continued rolling up her sleeves, breathing heavily out of her
nostrils. Now she was genuinely angry. Ron, feeling he had paid dearly for his
moment of superiority, panicked.
"All right, all right,
you win," he muttered under his breath, grabbing Hermione's arm and
steering her away from the students, so that they both had their backs to them.
Hermione's anger died away. "It's
your own fault you weren't listening to me," Hermione said contentedly.
"I said, 'Single women'."
"No, you didn't,"
Ron insisted; not in order to start a fight, but he insisted all the same.
"I did so!"
The two seemed to realize at
the same instant that they were behaving like two-year-olds in front of a class
full of students, who now all looked exceptionally amused. The student body had
suspicions about the so-called platonic relationship between the two teachers
(the fact that Hermione had grabbed Ron and kissed him at last year's
graduation ceremony seemed to have fueled the suspicion). In fact, the Defense Against the Dark Arts and Arithmancy Professors were often a
hot topic on the Hogwarts rumour mill. Ron caught a
glimpse of the gossip-happy Flora Canter out of the corner of his eye. She was
about a second away from grabbing a quill and taking notes.
Hermione obviously caught on
too. "Ron, this is highly unprofessional," she said under her breath,
as if she had just realized what she was doing. "I'm really very sorry for
disturbing your class, I should have never - "
"That's all right,
really - " Ron said hastily, relieved.
"All right," she
responded with a smile. "Sorry to interrupt," she repeated, this time
to the class. They looked thoroughly disappointed as she turned to leave.
"Not a problem,"
Professor Weasley said, turning back towards his class. "It's for the
best; you would have only gotten hurt anyway."
Hermione froze at the door, her
back going rigid. Ron mentally kicked himself - he hadn’t meant for it to come
out like that. But it was too late; Hermione had spun around, wand drawn, one
hand on her hip.
“I’ve changed my mind;
perhaps it would be educational to
demonstrate a duel to the class,” Hermione said coolly. This was met by much
cheering on the class' part.
"Oooh!" Flora exclaimed excitedly,
bouncing from foot to foot. "Lovers' quarrel!"
Hermione's stubbornness and
the fact that she always had to be right, and Ron's
temper and easily offended pride were always a lethal combination. Not to
mention the competitiveness that had always been present between them. In a
blatant disregard of all professionalism, Ron slowly drew his own wand, shaking
his head. The class watched with baited breath.
warned…" he said. The two marched towards each other, wands drawn. They
halted, inches apart.
"I've been waiting to
do this for a long time," Ron
said in a low voice, grinning. Ron had always secretly wondered who would come
out on top in a duel - Hermione, who had learned everything from books, or Ron,
who had learned everything from experience. He knew Hermione had probably
wondered the same. Now was their chance to find out.
"Smirk while you still
can," Hermione warned, giving him a look. They both spun around and
started walking in opposite directions.
closely," Ron called to his class as he walked. "I don't suppose any
of you have seen an actual duel between qualified wizards and witches - not
since we got rid of the infamous Dueling Club - so pay attention. On the count
of three the duel will begin. Note the first spell I start out with, and
remember what I told you before. One…two…" Ron chanced a glance over the
back of his shoulder, just to see where Hermione was standing. Her back was to
him, straight and alert. "Three."
Hermione immediately cried. It took Ron off-guard; the class watched as his
wand flew into the air and towards Hermione's awaiting hand. Roger whistled
loudly. The rest of the class promptly started snickering at the fact that
Professor Weasley's own words of wisdom about the
Disarming Spell not being used in duels had backfired on him. Ron clenched his
teeth. If she wanted to play that way, he would play that way. No exceptions
just because she happened to be his girlfriend.
"Accio wand!" Ron
hollered. He looked extremely foolish, as he had no wand to summon his wand
back to him in the first place. Hermione knew this, and for an instant there
was a smug look on her face - but then it was replaced by shock as, to
Hermione’s and the class' astonishment, Ron's wand flew back into his hand.
"Ha," Ron said
victoriously, twirling his wand around in his hand. "Some people don't always need a wand to do magic." The class
looked thoroughly impressed. "Though it helps," he added as an
Hermione had recovered from
the initial shock, and now looked angry. "That's cheating! Dueling is done
only with wands - "
"My classroom, my rules," Ron said
cheekily, getting caught up in the adrenaline of the duel.
"But I'll stick to the rules from now on, for your sake." This
infuriated Hermione even more, who decided to shut him up with a well-placed,
Ron fell to the ground, his legs locked together. But a flash of
victory in Hermione's eyes caused him to hurl his torso, the only portion of
his body that he still had control over, forward to yell, "Impedimenta!"
Hermione's arm seemed to freeze as she attempted another spell. She
hadn't been stopped altogether, only slowed to a snail’s pace. This gave Ron
enough time to perform the counter-curse to Leg Locker and scramble upwards.
"You see," he said to the class, "the spells that come
in handy. Leg-Locker was effective in getting me to the ground, but it left me
free to use my wand. Yet since Petrificus Totalus can't be used in a duel, it would have been
smarter to use the Arm-Locker - "
Ron realized with a jolt that the slowing spell had worn off as
Hermione suddenly jerked back into regular motion, crying, "Rictusempra!"
Ron fell to the ground, laughing madly as the Tickling Spell worked its
magic. "It would have been smart to use the Arm-Locker curse,"
Professor Granger continued calmly, as if her opponent wasn't hysterically
laughing on the ground, "if such a curse
Ron managed to perform the counter-curse on himself
somehow and once again jumped to his feet, his freckled face crimson from
immediately cried, wasting no time.
"Bubbleboblius!" Ron quickly
countered. A blue, transparent, bubble suddenly enveloped him. It acted as a
shield, reflecting Hermione's curse back her way. She ducked, and it hit the
wall instead, which immediately began sprouting fungus-like boils.
Ron's reflexes were superb; years of being an Auror
obviously had not been wasted. He blocked, ducked, or avoided nearly every
spell Hermione threw at him, playing the defensive for awhile. Then, when she
would least expect it, he'd switch to offense and
send a curse her way, which she had to work hard to avoid. He was tiring her
out, trying to get the upper hand. Hermione was becoming frustrated, and thus,
sloppy. She may have had almost every spell known to wizard-kind filed away in
that brain of hers, but Ron had the experience of duelling and fighting much
worse things than her. Finally, she seemed to give up as she was hit by a
particularly nasty spell that made her short of breath.
"Stay…still…" Hermione huffed, trying to aim her wand at the
agile former Auror.
"See the advantage of being quick?" Professor Weasley told his class, darting around to avoid curse after
curse and quite enjoying himself.
exclaimed. Setting her jaw, she tried one last spell. "Sedimenta!"
"Missed me again," Professor Weasley
teased as the jet of bright yellow light hit the ground beneath him. But a
satisfied smile was slowly spreading across Hermione's face.
"I wasn't aiming for you,"
she said triumphantly.
Professor Weasley let out a startled yelp as
his right leg abruptly sunk into the floor, which had suddenly become
incredibly soft. This was followed by his left leg, and then the rest of his
torso. Wide-eyed and struggling madly, Ron Weasley
sunk slowly into the ground, feeling as if he was being dragged downwards. He
finally stopped wriggling around, and his sinking slowed. By now, only his head
was visible above the tiled floor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
"I win," Hermione smiled sweetly.
"Wicked!" Roger Ramone
exclaimed enthusiastically. "It's like, quicksand or something."
"No, really?" Ron snapped sarcastically.
The movement of his jaw caused his mouth to sink into the floor as well.
"You're not going to let him sink, are you?" Annie Miller of Hufflepuff blurted out.
"Of course not," Professor Granger scoffed. "Corpus rightus."
Ron gave a yell as the floor spit him out, then
settled itself back into its solid form. He immediately jumped up and brushed
himself off, very red in the face. His class stared at him expectantly.
Hermione folded her arms, still smiling in satisfaction and breathing heavily.
"Well then," Ron finally said, clearing his throat.
"You're just lucky I let you win, Professor Granger."
Paul White started coughing loudly. "Like hell you did," he
muttered, followed by more hacking noises in an attempt to cover it up.
The tiny little bell on Ron's desk suddenly leapt into the air and rang
shrilly. The students, not bothering to put their desks back, gathered their
books and hurried out of the classroom, chattering excitedly. Flora Canter
shoved a few people aside, anxious to be the first to spread the story of the
duel. Ron and Hermione both stood silently at the front of the empty classroom,
watching them leave. Hannah Longley banged the door shut behind her, and
Hermione suddenly made a strangled noise in her throat.
"Yeah, you won," Ron said savagely, violently putting the
desks back into place with a wave of his wand. "Go on, gloat. Gloat and
brag and - "
But Hermione only shook her head wordlessly and clutched Ron's arm.
"You could have killed me!"
Ron looked slightly less peeved. "Well, yes…I suppose I could
have…" he said importantly.
"You're a fully qualified Auror!"
Hermione shrieked shrilly. "And…and in a duel…one of us could have gotten
hurt…or the students! In front of the students! They could've easily been hurt!
What were we thinking?!"
The implications of what they had just done slowly dawned on the Defense Against the Dark Arts
Hermione whimpered. "We are going to be in so much trouble…"
Harry Potter had not had a good
laugh in a long time, it seemed. At the moment he was clutching his stomach,
bent over, tears rolling down his cheeks as he laughed his narrow behind off.
Even the antique mirror in the corner of the bedroom was having a good chuckle.
In fact, the only person who didn't seem to find the story he'd just recounted
amusing was Ron Weasley.
"Just because she beat
me doesn't mean she's better," he retorted, arms folded. "I mean, it
was a lucky shot, hoorah for Hermione - "
shh," Harry interrupted, holding up his hands.
His eyes were closed tightly. "I'm trying to fix that mental picture in my
mind…you sinking into the floor, and Hermione standing triumphantly over you,
and your entire class laughing…"
"They are in this mental picture." Harry
snickered a bit, and then flopped onto Ron's bed, settling down somewhat.
"Good to laugh," he sighed wistfully after a brief silence.
Ron became serious.
"Working hard?" he asked nonchalantly as he rolled up his sleeves.
Harry had been around since Percy's wedding, alternating between the Burrow,
Hogwarts, and Sirius's home ("Padfoot's
Pad", as the two Aurors affectionately called
it). Tomorrow Harry returned to duty, and it was doubtful that he would be
around very often any more.
Harry sat up. "Ron, I
would never say this to a civilian, but seeing as you're you, I will. We're in
Ron looked up, alarmed.
"What the hell do you mean, you’re in trouble? Last you people told me,
you had four of the five scrolls. The odds are in your favour,
"What is this, some
kind of game? It doesn't matter, Ron," Harry said wearily. "That one is still out there. And it could
still do a hell of a lot of damage alone. If some deranged person got a hold of
"Who's going to know
how to read them though? Aren't they written in ancient gobblygook
or something?" Ron asked, folding his arms. "Besides, I had never
heard of these things until Crump went berserk and sent everyone off to look
for them. What makes you think these random deranged people even know about the
"There are these
psychos out there, Ron. This is what they've been waiting for…" Harry said
gravely, trailing off. "And now with all this anti-Muggle-born
and anti-Muggle stuff Stark has started…"
"Stark," Ron spat
out the name, narrowing his eyes. "Hasn't he caused enough trouble at the Ministry?
Argh…last time we had to deal with him I was just
about ready to tell him to - "
Ron's mirror made a tut-tutting noise as he described just what he wanted to
tell Dameon Stark to do, which was probably
anatomically impossible, but would've been extremely satisfactory to say
"He'd probably want to,
anyway," Ron continued ranting. "He loves himself that much."
"Did you see the Daily Prophet yesterday?" Harry asked,
disgusted. "Apparently 'witches everywhere' love him too."
"And I bet they love
him for his mind," Ron said
mockingly, pretending to swoon.
"He's a politician, for
God's sake," Harry vented, sighing, "and he has the celebrity status
of a Backstreet Boy."
"Never mind. I think
they stopped being hip about a decade ago, anyway."
Ron shrugged. "If you could even call Stark a politician." The
former Auror rolled his eyes and walked to the
window, resting his arm on the cool glass as he peered out onto the grounds.
Harry sighed. He stood up
and stretched, glancing at his watch and starting towards the door. "Well,
I'm going to turn in early if I plan to be flying back to London tomorrow. I'd go by Floo, but…"
Ron's mind then did a
phenomenal thing; it made the most absurd few connections to arrive at the last
person who was on his mind at the moment. Floo Powder
- fireplace – the Burrow - Ginny.
"Wait a second,"
Ron said brusquely. He swiftly cut Harry off by blocking the door. "Sit,"
Raising an eyebrow, Harry
sat on the armchair by the door. Ron paced back and forth before his puzzled,
but slightly amused-looking best friend, then abruptly stopped and glared at
him, as if beginning some sort of interrogation.
"What," Ron said
sharply, "is this I hear about you and my sister?"
Harry's face fell, all
amusement gone. "Hermione…" he muttered.
Hermione," Ron retorted defensively. "Besides, you were just a tad obvious at Percy's wedding. What's
going on and why didn't I know about it?"
Harry looked uncomfortable.
"Nothing's going on," he said bitterly, "for your information.
There. Finished, Big Brother?"
exclaimed. "My best friend and my sister had a…a…thing, and I didn't even know about it! Come on Harry, I thought we
were best mates. Hermione said that you two wrote each other all the time after
you and I were out of Hogwarts. And then, that one Christmas when we visited my
folks - "
"Maybe I didn't want to
talk about it," Harry interrupted loudly, his face flushed. "Maybe it
didn't work out, and I didn't want to talk about it, all right?"
Ron looked taken aback.
"But I talked to you about Hermione all the time. What, you can't trust me
with that kind of stuff? Or was it just because she's my sister?”
“No…I just…it’s just…”
Ron looked appraisingly at
Harry for a long time, and then sat down on the edge of his bed. “What
happened?” he asked in a kinder, almost sympathetic tone.
“You know what the job’s like," Harry said in a strained voice. "We’d
hardly ever see each other…and you have to keep all these secrets…it’s
impossible to have a…a relationship. That’s why none of the other blokes are
married, except for Darnell, but he’s hardly out in the field now…”
Harry stood up, running a
hand through his already rumpled black hair. "You know, sometimes I think
I should've taken a page out of your book, mate," he told Ron. "But I
can't leave. This is what I'm meant to do. My social life's taken a beating,
but that’s what retirement’s for, right?” Harry said
with a wry smile. It disappeared and he stared at the floor. “Ginny deserves
someone who will be around, someone who’ll…” Harry suddenly laughed hoarsely.
“See? It’s weird talking to you about this.”
“But you can talk to
Hermione about it?” Ron asked, slightly offended.
"Hermione…well, she’s a
girl, you know…"
“I’m aware,” said Ron dryly.
understands…about…” Harry motioned uselessly with his hands. “About…this sort
of thing. I just…” He carefully avoided eye contact. “I think Ginny… felt more
strongly about me than I…than I did about her…and that’s not fair to her.”
Sighing, Harry held out his
wand and murmured something. Like a silent black cloud, his cloak floated over
to its owner's extended hand. "We’re just friends now," Harry
explained, his voice unreadable and his back turned to Ron as he put on his
cloak. "We talked at the wedding. Everything's back to normal, I hope.
We'll be good friends, just like before."
Ron sat quietly for a moment,
and then stood up and gave Harry a small smile. "You're not a bad sort,
Potter," he admitted. "I wouldn't have minded having you for a
Harry stared at the floor.
"Well…some things are just not meant to be."
"Ron!" Both men flinched as Hermione's voice filled
the room, at least three times its normal volume. The disembodied voice sounded
shrill and nervous. "Professor
McGonagall wishes to speak with us. You have to come down to her office at
once. I'm waiting by the second floor stairs. Hurry up!" The floating
voice faded, its last words echoing.
"And some things
are," Harry grinned.
immature, and careless!" Minerva McGonagall
exclaimed shrilly. Seated before her desk were Professors Weasley
and Granger, both looking like guilty schoolchildren.
Professor Granger's face was very white, and she was slowly and methodically
shredding a piece of tissue into her lap.
"Minerva, we're really
very sorry…" Ron pleaded, trying a winning smile. McGonagall wasn't
"A student could have
"We know, we weren't
thinking - "
"One of you could have been hurt!"
"We know, like I said - " Ron tried again.
"Well if you knew, why did you have a full-fledged duel,
without clearance from myself or the headmaster, in an enclosed classroom in
front of a group of students?!" McGonagall demanded in exasperation. She
leaned back in her chair, looking bewildered. "Now Weasley,
I know you're a bit of a hot-head - "
Ron gave a forced smile.
- but Professor Granger, I really expected better from
you!" the Deputy Headmistress sighed. Hermione's knuckles turned white as
she started on a new piece of tissue. Not losing eye contact with McGonagall,
Ron reached out his hand and clasped Hermione's, stopping her from ripping the
unfortunate tissue to shreds. Professor McGonagall glanced down at their
intertwined fingers and pursed her lips.
"Now, I understand your
current…" she began with much difficulty. The Transfiguration Professor
seemed to be searching for a word, "situation,"
she decided, looking at the two with raised eyebrows. Both professors' cheeks
flushed. "Which is none of my business because, quite
frankly, I don't care what you two do on your own time. Now, I don't
know what your little quarrel was about, nor do I want to. Just…" she
sighed again, "make an attempt to keep it professional at Hogwarts, will
McGonagall," they both echoed simultaneously.
Ron could've sworn he saw the
shadow of a smile on McGonagall's stoic face, but it quickly passed.
"Well, that's it. Thank you for your time, Professors."
The two nodded wordlessly,
and silently left the Deputy Headmistress' office. They emerged into the front
hall, which was empty and quiet save for a suit of armour
in one corner which was shuffling nervously, obviously itchy. The two had made
it halfway up the grand staircase in silence before a stifled laugh slipped out
Hermione whirled around on
him. "I suppose you thought that was funny, did you?" she snapped,
her voice high-pitched.
Ron couldn’t stop a slow
grin from forming on the corners of his lips. "Yeah, it was," he
admitted, watching Hermione carefully for her reaction, an amused expression on
his face. She drew in a shaky breath, preparing herself for battle as she
continued to stomp up the stairs.
"Oh, lighten up,
Hermione!" Ron laughed, stopping on the staircase and leaning against the
banister. "You have to admit, that was
kind of funny."
Hermione stopped and made a
displeased sound in reply. Ron took her lack of verbal rebuttal as a good sign
and continued on. "I just hope none of the kids saw that; the two of us in
there, looking like guilty students caught snogging
in the hallway." Ron’s shoulders were now shaking with laughter. "And
the look…on McGonagall’s face…"
He saw Hermione’s lips
quiver. She bit her bottom lip, like she always did when she was trying to keep
from smiling. Ron knew victory was nearly his.
"I understand your
current…situation," he said in a
high-pitched voice, wrinkling his nose and attempting to imitate McGonagall's
pinched features and grim face. That did it; Hermione's eyes fell to the floor
as she smiled and shook her head at him.
"Aha! The lady doth
smile!" Ron proclaimed, raising his arms in victory. Hermione, the corners
of her mouth still upturned, rolled her eyes and slapped his right arm, causing
him to lower the arms of triumph.
"Oh fine, it was sort of funny," Hermione confessed,
folding her arms. "But still, she had a valid point. We have been acting
"Excuse me, you're the
one who grabbed me and kissed me in the middle of the Great Hall last
"That was an
exception," Hermione said quickly, her cheeks flushing.
"Yes, I know," Ron
replied in a long-suffering voice. "It's me, not you. I understand.
Women…they just can't help themselves…"
"Oh, get over
yourself," Hermione huffed. "Still," she said reluctantly, after
a pause. "Perhaps we should set
some ground rules."
"Ron, quit joking just
for a second," Hermione demanded, hands on her hips. Ron raised his hands
in apology, and then nodded solemnly.
Hermione said diplomatically. "We should keep a completely platonic
attitude during school hours, and in front of the staff and students."
Ron sighed. "Agreed. Now can we go?" He put his arm around
Hermione to steer her in the upward direction of the stairs. To his surprise,
Hermione took an abrupt step backwards.
"Which means hands
off," she said firmly. Ron's face fell.
"Come on, Hermione,
McGonagall was just – "
"What about in the
caretaker's closet on the fifth floor?"
Hermione threw up her hands
in frustration. "Just…keep it professional around the staff and students,
all right? I…" her gaze dropped to the floor. "I don't like us being
the topic of discussion at the house tables at dinner. These stupid rumours
have got to stop. It's…well, it's embarrassing. The students don't have to know
about our personal lives."
Ron nodded, finally serious.
"Look, Hermione, sorry I was acting like an idiot. I totally
smiled in relief, the colour fading from her
cheeks. "And, I mean, Professor McGonagall was right," she added
lightly. "Whatever we do on our own
time is no one else's business."
Ron winked, causing Hermione
to blush again. He followed her as she started back up the staircase, grinning
"Ah, Hermione," he
murmured to himself. "The McGonagall impression will be your
"I heard that!"
So yeah, all the H/Gers
probably want to kill me. Don’t get me wrong, I like H/G, but it just didn’t
work in this story. I thought I’d give them a history to make things
interesting, but to be perfectly honest, they’re going to remain friends like
Harry said, so don’t get your hopes up. *Ducks as numerous blunt objects and/or
rotten vegetables are thrown at self* I hope that doesn’t discourage some of
you from continuing to read. I like to think that some stories are still worth
reading even if they don’t include your favourite
Someone suggested a review song to the theme of 7th
Heaven, but sadly, I have never watched 7th Heaven, and have
consequently never heard the theme song. I apologize. v_v
Note: I do not own Play That Funky Music White Boy, or any other funky musics I may use in my review songs. ^_^
*Darkness enshrouds you, the reader, then suddenly…*
Music: Bow wow wow wow wow wowowowowow…
Ron: *is revealed,
sporting a one-piece, sparkly, Saturday Night Fever disco outfit and an afro* Heeeeeeeeeey review it nooooooow!
Once I read a little fanfic,
Entitled 'Bury the Hatchet'!
The author never had no problems,
'Cept with her keyboard, what a stupid gadget.
So in this certain fanfic,
Some real crazy stuff took
Fred and George: Yeah there was dancin'!
Dobby: Some madmen and some poison!
Hermione: On SQ, they read it…
Dumbledore: And the reviewers turned around and shouted…
All: Write yourself a sequel, Silver! Write yourself a
sequel toniiiiiight! Write yourself a sequel, Silver!
Me: So I wrote a sequel, now write me a review or else
I'll cry! Or else I'll cry…
Ron: Who're you?
Me: …Harry Potter.
Harry: Uh, I'm Harry Potter.
Me: Hey buddy, your identity crisis is not my problem.