71Happy belated New Year's! Deeply apologetic for the wait. Why does my life get crazy every time I need to write? It's been a tough few weeks, but I'm here and I'm writing, which makes me optimistic for the future. Hope you like this one! :)
CHAPTER FOUR – BIRTHDAYS AND MEETINGS
She couldn't see his face. That was the first thing she noticed. Which was completely unlike her other dreams, where the fact that she was staring at Cedric Diggory was painfully obvious and wholly unsettling.
The walls were dark and gloomy. Hermione recognised Grimmauld Place at once, with its dank décor and the chill in the air. She shivered, rubbing her arms to no avail. The cold was permeating into every inch of her, and she felt it eclipse her heart within a matter of seconds.
"Why won't he look at me?" Hermione asked Ginny, who stood to her right. Ginny shrugged, her usually bright hair now looking a deep red like blood. Her lips matched, and her brown eyes glittered happily.
"Who cares, Hermione? Just enjoy yourself!"
Suddenly, like someone was editing scenes in a film, Hermione was transported to the Great Hall. Wait a second… hadn't they been there the whole time? Cedric still wasn't looking at her, but his shoulders looked relaxed underneath his black, fitted suit. Ginny's dark red hair and lips matched her dark red dress, and she was holding a goblet of what looked to be wine – but that couldn't be right, Ginny was only fourteen.
Hermione frowned, shoving those thoughts away as Cedric's tall figure began to move away from her. Keen to find him and turn him around, to look into those grey eyes and smile, Hermione followed suit. Weaving in and out of the crowd – why was the Great Hall so packed? Not even this many people went to Hogwarts – Hermione bumped into others on the way, muttering apologies and not letting her eyes leave Cedric.
When she finally caught up to him, it was with a triumphant smile on her face. Ready to gloat, she grabbed his arm and spun him around.
His look of complete ignorance stopped her short, and the smile on her face dimmed somewhat.
"Cedric?" Hermione asked, stepping closer. Cedric was warm where she was cold, and she wanted him to wrap his arms around her and never let go, "It's me. It's Hermione."
Despite telling him, he still looked just as confused as before as he stared at her face.
"I'm sorry, you must be mistaken," He said, removing her hand from his arm gently, "Hermione's not here tonight."
"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, laughing. "It's me!"
"No, it's not." Cedric's hands lifted to her face, and it was only upon his fingers touching the mask that sat there that Hermione realised she was wearing one. "Hermione would never hide like this."
"I'm not hiding," Hermione chuckled, rolling her eyes. Cedric's hands lowered, and he looked doubtful. "Fine," Hermione sighed exasperatedly, "Here."
Reaching up, Hermione pulled the mask from her face. Or, at least, she tried to. It wouldn't budge, not matter how hard she pulled or what angle she did it from. It was like someone had super-glued it there in her sleep.
Suddenly, nothing was funny.
"Get it off!" Hermione screeched, still trying to push it away from her face, "Get it off me!"
"No," Cedric said coldly, looking at her with something akin to disgust – Hermione wasn't sure, she wasn't used to such an expression coming from him. His eyes were hard, the grey like steel. "Only you can do that."
And he turned around, dismissing her.
"Cedric!" Hermione exclaimed, "CEDRIC! HELP ME! GET IT OFF! IT'S ME, IT'S HERMIONE, I SWEAR! CEDRIC, PLEASE!"
"I'm afraid you're alone this time, Miss Granger," a voice said from behind her, and she whirled around just in time to see Dumbledore's grim face before –
Hermione jerked awake, her eyes glimpsing the tell-tale orange of her cat as he fled from her bed. Spluttering, Hermione removed stray cat hairs from her mouth.
Crookshanks. It had just been Crookshanks sitting near her face.
Wiping sweat from her brow, Hermione heaved a great sigh of relief. Her covers were strewn away from her, like she'd kicked them off in her sleep. She was cold, she realised. Goosebumps decorated her bare arms, and she quickly pulled up the sheets to retain the last remaining warmth she had.
Lying back down, she sighed heavily.
Her mind was playing tricks on her. This was new. Normally it was dreams of a future that troubled her but instead those were gone, replaced with cryptic dreams that had Cedric leaving her, betraying her. Dumbledore's hostility was no surprise, but it still hurt.
Picking up her watch, Hermione saw that it was around five o'clock. The first day of term was off to a good start, she mused to herself wryly.
Well, there's no point in going back to sleep now. May as well get ready and do some reading before breakfast.
With that decided, Hermione got out of bed wearily, draping herself in her favourite dressing gown from home and trudging as quietly as she could to the bathroom. It would be good to have a shower before the other girls for once. Normally, her morning showers were pitifully short given the time her dorm-mates took to take their own. Despite hating to rush, she was normally left to it every morning at Hogwarts.
The shower was cleansing, ironically enough – the hot water soothed her tense muscles, and the worries clouding her head seemed to fade away with the stream, seeping out through her pores.
Getting out, drying herself off, and getting dressed was a leisurely affair. Hermione felt the most put-together she had in months, and it showed. In the mirror, her cheeks were flushed a healthy red, and her hair wasn't nearly as wild as usual given she'd been able to dry it properly. Her uniform was neat, pristine, and her eyes were wide with alertness.
If she could have a routine as slowly paced as the one that morning for the rest of term, she would be set. But somehow, she didn't imagine herself getting up around five every day to do so.
It was about an hour or so into her reading that the first of her roommates emerged from behind their own hanging curtains. Lavender's black hair fell in tight curls over her shoulders, her dark skin looking stark in the morning sun.
"Oh," Lavender stated upon seeing her, stopped short like Hermione was a physical barrier she could not pass. "You're up."
Despite her good start to the day, Hermione bristled at the tone.
"Yes," She snapped, closing her book with a loud thump. Lavender was looking at her uneasily. "Is that a problem?"
"So you're sticking by it, then?" Lavender asked shortly, shoving her perfectly pedicured feet into slippers, and grabbing her folded uniform from on top of her trunk. Hermione frowned, remembering the house elves who did all this whilst they were sleeping. "That he's back? The Prophet says it's all nonsense–"
"Well the Prophet wasn't there, were they?" Hermione responded sharply. Lavender looked taken aback, her bag of toiletries clutched tightly in her other hand. Her red and gold tie looked like it might slip off the pile of clothes she was carrying. Hermione eyed it warily.
"I'll see you in class, Lavender." Hermione dismissed her, shoving her book in her bag and sweeping her hair out of her face before leaving the room and heading down the stairs, mumbling to herself underneath her breath in frustration.
Meeting her friends down in the common room and hearing about Seamus's similar disbelief gnawed at her, but Hermione shook herself internally and let it go.
"We've got other things to worry about, Harry," She consoled her friend, who looked angry at a house mate of his doubting what he had felt and what his own friend had experienced. "Like – oh, for goodness sake. Fred! George!"
"Yes, Her-my-own?" A ginger head popped into her vision, its counterpart following closely behind. Hermione rolled her eyes, snatching the paper from the noticeboard situated in the Gryffindor common room.
"You know we can't allow you to test your products on students."
"We know you can't allow us, Hermione." George said, and his twin nodded in agreement, "But what you don't know, you can't not allow."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, lost.
"Can we go?" Ron groaned, ignoring his brothers. She supposed he was used to their confusing talk, "I'm starved."
"Yeah, Ron," Harry grinned, clapping his friend on his back as they walked through the portrait hole. The twins followed them, looking secretive as they spoke in low tones and only to each other. "We can go."
"Hey guys," Ginny greeted them as they sat at the table. The twins were long gone, and Hermione suspected they were off to another house's table in an attempt to accrue a more diverse clientele. Hermione honestly didn't want to know. She was starting to regret giving them that money…
"Hey," Harry replied, smiling warmly at the youngest Weasley. He sat down next to her, and luckily Hermione and Ron had had the foresight to walk down the opposite side of the Gryffindor table, and so took their seats. Her back now facing the rest of the hall, Hermione eagerly dug into her breakfast.
"Look," Harry said, and she looked up from her Daily Prophet. Even though it said she was a lying hag, it was good to keep up to date on what others were writing about you. Besides, Skeeter wasn't writing anymore and to Hermione, nothing could be worse than her. Her trick at the end of the last school year had dealt with that. "McGonagall's giving out the timetables."
"Double Potions!" Ron exclaimed once he'd received his, looking abruptly pale despite the copious amount of food he'd just scoffed down. Normally he was perkier after a good meal. "And History of Magic! Merlin, kill me!" He groaned, rubbing at his eyes as if he were suddenly exhausted.
"At least we've got Double Defense later," Harry said, looking just as put out.
"Yeah, but that Umbridge woman is teaching this year." Ginny pointed out, finishing off her apple with a large bite. "Personally, I'm not looking forward to it. Got her first. I'll let you know at lunch how she is."
"Put it this way, Ron," Hermione said, tearing her eyes away from the matching smiles near her, "After today, the rest of the week will be easy."
"Says you," Ron grumbled, but Hermione forgave him. It was a Monday, she understood.
"I would point out that at least you don't have double Divination, but I'm thinking that would make you even more irate," A new voice spoke up, and both Hermione and Ron turned around.
Cedric had a small smile on his face, and his yellow and black tie was slightly crooked. Her chest warmed at the sight, the dreams of hours previous completely forgotten.
"You'd be right," Ron grumbled again, turning back to his porridge dejectedly.
"What subjects are you taking this year, Cedric?" Harry asked politely after a gulp of pumpkin juice. Cedric took a seat next to her, and his thigh brushed up against her own. He was unbelievably warm, and all Hermione wanted to do was move closer.
"Divination," Cedric started, frowning down at his own schedule, "Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defence, Potions, Transfiguration, and Muggle Studies."
"No Arithmancy?" Hermione inquired, frowning. Cedric was certainly smart enough for it.
"No," Cedric replied with amusement, looking at her from the corner of his eyes, "No point when you want to be a Healer,"
"Oh, I don't know," Hermione started, still frowning. "Healers would seriously benefit from–"
"Alright," Ginny said loudly, interrupting her. Hermione missed the grateful look her best friends gave the younger Gryffindor. She stood, stretching. "I'm off to Defence, hope Umbridge doesn't dock points for not arriving early."
And with a swift flick of her hair, she strode off toward the exit, her book bag light at her side. Hermione withheld a smile – Ginny hated text books, and spent most of her time learning the content through group discussion.
The clanging of the school bell suddenly sounded, signalling the end of breakfast. Students began grasping at the food in front of them before it all disappeared, some younger Ravenclaws looking disappointed when they weren't quick enough. Spotting the open books in front of them, Hermione guessed they'd been too busy reading during breakfast to eat much.
"I'll see you at lunch," Cedric murmured, and Hermione looked at him and smiled. She nodded, and was surprised by the quick kiss he planted her on lips before grabbing his own bag and departing.
Harry and Ron gave each other a look.
"What?" Hermione asked, feeling her cheeks glow red.
"Nothing," Ron said innocuously, grinning. Hermione scowled.
History of Magic was boring, even for History of Magic standards. Hermione took notes, of course, but Professor Binns seemed even more dead than usual and by the end, Hermione wasn't sure she'd be able to face Professor Snape in such a lethargic state and come out with her dignity intact.
As they made their way to the dungeons, Harry and Ron discussing the success of the Tornadoes in the last Quidditch season – a topic of conversation Hermione happily drowned out – Hermione thought about Cedric, as she was wont to do.
How would things be this year? She'd been unsure, over the summer and even at Grimmauld Place, of where they stood. He had seemed fairly affectionate at the Black residence, but Hermione wasn't stupid – it was always different to be affectionate in front of people you didn't know, or didn't talk to. It said something.
Hermione had long gotten over her jealousy of Cho Chang – who walked past them just then, smiling at Harry – after being assured that her and Cedric were simply friends, but it seemed unrealistic that Cedric would date her seriously. They'd been through a lot together, definitely, and saved each other's lives, for sure, but that didn't magically mean they would date – after all, Hermione had saved both Ron and Harry's lives, and they her, and she wasn't dating either of them.
Stop being daft, she berated herself as the bell tolled for Potions and they scurried inside before Snape could accuse them of being even a second late. How much more evidence do you need to realise he likes you?
The cold, terrifying look Snape gave the three of them as he swept in banished all thoughts of the seventh year Hufflepuff from her mind.
The lesson was, as they had predicted, hard and tedious. Harry, bless his poor soul, had forgotten his hellebore syrup, and the ensuing humiliation at Snape's hands had left them all with a bad taste in their mouths.
"That was awful, Harry," Hermione sympathised as they joined him at the Gryffindor table, shooting him a concerned look. He hadn't had a potion to hand in at the end of the lesson, and so had left for lunch before her and Ron. She piled some shepherd's pie onto her plate. Harry's eyes were bright with anger, and his jaw was clenched. "I'd hoped he might be a little less…"
"Evil?" Ron said, and snorted, "Unlikely. Looks like even being in the Order hasn't stopped him from being a git."
"Ron!" Hermione scolded, although silently agreed with him.
"What?" Ron replied, gesturing wildly, almost spilling pumpkin juice everywhere, "Dumbledore's insane if he thinks Snape is on our side."
"I highly doubt Dumbledore would let Professor Snape into the Order if he didn't trust him," Hermione doled out, although she supposed it probably had more to do with the fact that Dumbledore probably found the Potions master useful enough to let Snape's permanent foul mood be forgotten. Hermione was intimately familiar with Dumbledore's tendency to let certain things slide when those involved were useful to him.
"Shut up, will you?" Harry spat out, "You're always arguing. I'm sick of it." And with that, he grabbed up his bag and stalked off, furious.
"What's with him?" Ginny asked, sitting down opposite Hermione and Ron and grabbing a toasted sandwich from the pile in the middle of the table. She'd obviously just passed Harry on his way out.
"Snape." Ron said, like that explained it. At Ginny's look of understanding, it seemed to.
"Well, he better shape up in time for Defence," Ginny started after a few bites of her lunch, "Umbridge is a nightmare."
"Really?" Hermione perked up, curious.
"Everything is straight from the text book. 'Wands away, we won't need them!'," Ginny's shrill imitation of their Defence teacher made Hermione chuckle, even if she couldn't know whether or not it was accurate.
"I love Herbology," Cedric huffed, suddenly appearing. He landed heavily next to Hermione, reaching over her for the shepherd's pie dish and scooping some of his own onto a plate, "But it's dirty as hell."
Taking a closer look, Hermione saw smudges of dirt on his face. The cuffs of his white shirt were dusty with dirt underneath his robes. His hair was mussed, and there was a faint sheen of sweat behind his ears, where his hair curled over them. He looked positively adorable.
Lunch went on as such, with all of them discussing their classes. With twenty minutes to spare until they'd be ushered off to their respective lessons – Hermione had Ancient Runes, Ron had Divination with Harry, Cedric had Transfiguration and Ginny had Herbology – Ginny went to leave.
At Hermione's questioning look, she gave a sigh.
"Someone's got to tell Harry to get a grip. If he goes into Defence like that, Umbridge will make life hell for him."
Hermione supposed that, if anyone, Ginny would be the most likely to get through to her green-eyed friend.
Defence had been a disaster, and Harry's mood hadn't even been the biggest contributing factor.
"What's she playing at?" Ron said in aggravation as they got back to the common room. He dumped his book bag on one of the couches, scaring off a couple of first years. "No magic, giving Harry detention, saying V– You-Know-Who isn't back… it's madness!"
Hermione pursed her lips as Harry joined his redheaded friend, putting his head in his hands tiredly.
"Things this year aren't necessarily going to be better, I've realised." Hermione said, sighing heavily. Just when things seemed to be looking up, Umbridge had to go and be hired.
"I don't know what Dumbledore is doing, letting her teach," Harry said angrily, his fists so clenched his knuckles looked white.
"I'm not sure he had a choice, mate," Ron said, calmed down some now that he was comfortable on the couch. "Hermione said at the Welcoming Feast that the Ministry are trying to interfere at Hogwarts, and Dad–" He stopped, looking around at the other students warily before continuing in a lower voice, "Dad said the Ministry's been denying his return. Surely you've been reading the papers?"
Harry grumbled as if to say he had, but Hermione knew he'd been giving her Prophets the dirty look and it was unlikely he'd bothered after reading just one over the summer.
"Why'd everyone seem to believe Dumbledore last year, though, and not now?" Hermione pondered out loud, wondering why her house mates seemed disbelieving of everyone involved in the Graveyard. "I suppose the Prophet's lies haven't helped," Hermione supplied at Ron's raised eyebrows.
"Fudge has disliked Dumbledore for years," Ron stated, frowning in thought, "Thinks he's too powerful, that he wants to be Minister. My money is on the likelihood they've been convincing everyone he's senile in his old age."
As Harry opened his mouth to defend Dumbledore, the slight headache Hermione had been nursing the past hour reared its ugly head.
"Come on," She sighed, picking up her bag from where she'd dropped it on the floor, "Let's put our things away and head down to dinner."
They spent the evening ignoring the looks and whispers at dinner, scoffing down their food before returning to the common room. Hermione, amidst all the drama, didn't realise she hadn't seen Cedric since lunch until she went up to bed, homework completed.
Oh well, she thought tiredly, pulling up her bed covers and snuggling into her pillow with a yawn, I'll talk to him tomorrow.
True to form, Cedric was at breakfast. Although, he looked a little worse for wear.
"What's wrong?" Hermione said upon approach. Her other two friends were still sleeping, no doubt, and so Hermione had come down to breakfast early. Cedric, surprisingly, was seated at the Gryffindor table, roughly five feet of empty space surrounding him. Although the Great Hall wasn't busy, they were still at the wrong end of the odd stare.
Cedric sighed, putting his spoon down with a clang into his cereal and pushing his hair back from his face.
"I may have already gotten detention," He muttered, looking at her. Hermione held back a smile, attempting instead to frown disapprovingly. At a twitch of his lips, she wasn't sure she'd succeeded.
"Oh?" She prompted, buttering some toast.
"Umbridge was spouting out some real–" He paused at the look on Hermione's face, "–hogwash yesterday."
"Is that why I didn't see you at dinner?" Hermione inquired before taking a big bite of marmalade toast.
"No, that was something else." He waved her off, "But I've got detention every night for the rest of the week."
"Lucky you," Hermione said coolly, but grinned shortly thereafter, "Harry's in the same boat. Looks like you two will be spending some quality time together."
Cedric huffed, pulling apart a muffin he'd recently grabbed from the table and popping a bite into his mouth.
"Some girlfriend you are," He said through a mouthful, and Hermione hid her smile in her pumpkin juice. The warmth that spread through her chest at a mere word was worrying, but understandable.
Girlfriend. It was silly of her, really, to feel butterflies at such a proclamation. But after everything they'd been through such a simple teenage worry was a relief, in many ways. It seemed funny, though, that they hadn't ever been on one simple date. Although, Hermione realised, the first Hogsmeade weekend was bound to be soon.
"Diggory," said a voice behind her, and Hermione didn't bother to turn around. Ron's timbre was pretty unique.
"Ron," Cedric replied, nodding. His feet moved to sit between hers, a point of contact despite them sitting opposite one another.
"Not that I'm complaining," Ron said, swinging his legs over the bench to sit down, poking at some bacon and eggs with his fork before deciding on what he deemed to be the freshest, "But surely you need to be sorting out Quidditch practice?"
Quidditch. Hermione had completely forgotten. Of course, Cedric was Captain as he'd been the past two years – he'd have to put together tryouts and then organise practice. Such a trivial thing seemed inconsequential after last year, where Quidditch had been absent in the face of such a gruelling tournament.
"Good point," Cedric agreed, "I'll see you both later," He gave Hermione's shin a parting nudge before gathering up his things and walking around their table to the Hufflepuff one. Hermione turned to see his friends greet him with hesitant smiles. Hermione resolved to ask him about it later.
"Does he seem alright to you?" Ron asked, chomping on a strip of bacon. Hermione, having turned around to now eat some fruit salad, rolled her eyes at his manners.
"Yes, Ron," She said with bite, although not meanly, "He's fine."
Despite her assurances to both Ron and herself, Hermione didn't see Cedric much over the next week. She supposed it made sense – he'd mentioned Quidditch and coupled with the nightly detentions it was unlikely he had much free time at all. And after the looks on his Hufflepuff friends' faces, it seemed like he might have some apologising to do on that front.
And although she'd tried to get just one word out of Harry about his detentions, which he was taking with Cedric, he seemed very private about it, a dark look coming over his face whenever Hermione asked him. So she stopped asking, after the third one. He would tell them in his own time – as much as she loved Harry, he was too stubborn and too much of a martyr to ever complain so openly about anyone but Snape.
Defence was getting worse by the day. The others seemed just as disgruntled as she did, but more resigned. She couldn't settle – they wouldn't learn anything at this rate, and it was their OWL year! And Cedric had his NEWTs! Something had to be done.
It was with this mindset, and seeing Harry's clenched jaw every lesson – surely, he had to be grinding his teeth down to dust – that she thought of something. It was a little mad, but it would have to do.
"Harry," she begun tentatively one evening after dinner. She'd managed to help the boys with their homework, holding back on her more disparaging remarks and trying to remain positive. They were now sprawled across the couches. Hermione ignored the whispering of the Weasley twins near the noticeboard. As much as she wanted to discipline them, she was too tired – they had a will of their own and even if she berated them until she was red in the face, they'd still go and test their blasted inventions on younger students.
"Yeah?" Harry responded, yawning widely.
She bit her lip in nerves.
"I've thought about it, and I honestly think we might have to do something about Umbridge."
Both Harry and Ron perked up, the former looking eager to get revenge upon the Ministry woman for the detentions that made him surly each night.
"I was thinking; we could start a Duelling club of some kind."
"Duelling club?" Ron scoffed, settling back down into the couch with disappointment. "What good will that do?"
"Well, we'd be using magic for one, Ronald!" Hermione said shrilly, bristling at his disregard for her idea. At Harry's stormy look, she deflated, muttering an apology. "Look, we'd be practising some spells, at least."
"And who's going to run this Duelling club? And with what time will we attend it? If you haven't noticed, Hermione, but we're all stretched a little thin here."
Hermione glowered at her friend. Why was Ron being such a prat?
"Why are you being such a prat about this?"
Ron grumbled, any words indistinguishable.
"Just have a think about it, Harry. Promise me."
"I'll think about it," Her dark-haired friend promised, and it was with that that she bid them goodnight and headed off to bed.
"Wait, Hermione, look–"
She turned around. The common room was pretty much deserted; it being close to midnight. Most of the other students had given up and gone to bed, like Hermione was about to.
But Sirius Black's head was in the fireplace.
"Finally, you're alone. Good point about the Duelling club, Hermione, I reckon that's a great idea."
"Thanks," Hermione said softly, shocked.
"You've been checking the common room?" Harry asked, now kneeling close to the fireplace. "Sirius, we saw what the Prophet said, they know you're in London–"
"You're starting to sound like Molly, Harry. Don't worry, I was careful. I just didn't know how else to respond to your letter without stuffing up my own meaning."
"You wrote to Sirius?" Ron seemed to recover better from his surprise than she had. Her tired brain was still working around the fact that Sirius found an idea of hers valuable.
There's a first time for everything.
"Sorry," Harry really did look it, "I forgot to tell you."
"Tell me about Umbridge." Sirius prompted, and Harry began a tirade about what Hermione could guess was his least favourite Defence teacher ever. Hers, too.
Sirius was chuckling by the end.
"You're almost as bad as Remus – you should hear him talk about her, gets him in a right state."
"Professor Lupin doesn't like her?" Hermione asked, smiling at the thought of their gentle professor disliking anyone enough to complain about them.
"Definitely not. She hates werewolves, you see. Made it considerably harder a few years back for Remus to get a job."
After letting them know Hagrid was okay – Hermione, despite preferring Grubblyplank's lessons, missed having tea with the half-giant – Sirius was inquiring about visiting during the next Hogsmeade weekend.
"Sirius," Harry started off worryingly, "Didn't you read the Daily Prophet?"
Sirius scoffed.
"They're always writing about me. It'll be fine, Harry."
Harry exchanged an uneasy look with Ron, but Hermione realised now having looked a bit more closely at the Animagus – his hair was lank and greasy, his eyes looked sunken in like he hadn't got enough sleep in years (which was probably true), and his skin looked awfully pale… not to mention the emotion behind his eyes was a little disturbing – that Sirius was desperate to go outside.
"Next Hogsmeade weekend is the fifth, Sirius," Hermione told him, and tried not to pay too much attention to his immensely grateful look, "You better come as a dog, or so help me–"
Sirius grinned, agreeing before telling them he'd send a letter with the time and date of his next fire visit and vanishing with a whoosh.
"Hermione–"
"I know you're worried, Harry," Hermione begun, frowning, "I am, too. But Sirius is desperate for some company. Didn't you notice how tired he looked? And I bet you didn't talk to him before term like Ron and I told you to."
At Harry's guilty look, Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"Lucius Malfoy probably recognised Sirius at the platform, but he won't be at Hogsmeade that weekend and no one but us knows about Sirius's… abilities. We've got to help him."
Harry sighed, but nodded in resignation.
"I'll see you both in the morning – think about the duelling club."
She turned around, and headed up to her dormitory.
"I'm sorry," Ron said a few days later. It was lunch, and they'd just finished up in Transfiguration. Umbridge was High Inquisitor, and she had been inspecting their last few classes. Hermione hadn't even glimpsed Cedric in a week. "About the other day," He clarified at her blank look. "I just… the Duelling club has all sorts of issues."
Hermione looked around. They'd been early to lunch, the rest of their class present as well – McGonagall had gotten fed up with Umbridge and dismissed them before the bell. She lowered her voice anyway.
"It's not going to be a… Duelling club, per se." Ron frowned, confused. "I thought Harry might… might teach us."
"Harry?" Ron asked, surprised. He looked a lot more pleased at the idea than by the Duelling club, "He won't teach Slytherins, though."
"That's the point, Ron. It's not going to be an official club," Hermione explained, "It'll be… secret. A secret society."
"Wicked!" Ron mused, looking a lot more pleased. His bad mood of a few days ago suddenly made sense – he hadn't wanted to be the butt of any Slytherin jokester like Malfoy.
"He'll need a lot of convincing," Hermione pondered, thinking of how best to approach her best friend.
"Leave it to me," Ron whispered to her, before Harry and Ginny seated themselves opposite, laughing about something.
Ron didn't tell her whether he'd been successful until a week later, two days before her sixteenth birthday.
"It took a lot, but he's agreed." He muttered to her in the library. She should've known he'd suddenly decided to do his homework in its peace and quiet for an alternate reason. "We'll let people know the first meeting will be at Hogsmeade. Three Broomsticks?"
Hermione shook her head, ignoring the cold look of Madam Pince.
"No," she whispered, pretending to read the book in front of her. Snape was relentless with the essays, "The Hog's Head, it's not as obvious. Who do you think we should invite?"
"The other Gryffindors, I reckon," Ron muttered, also pretending to read, "Ernie Macmillan told Harry he stood by Dumbledore, so he's a safe bet. He probably has a few friends also in Hufflepuff who'd want to join."
Hermione nodded.
"I'll ask the same of Cedric. I know I haven't seen much of him, but…" Hermione bit her lip, "He'll want to help. His friends might come, too. Of course, the twins should join, as well as Ginny."
Ron agreed, and Hermione spent much of the next day organising for all of this, asking the relevant parties she had been allocated to. It wasn't until the morning of her birthday that she only had Cedric left.
It was like they didn't know each other, really. She had barely seen a hair of him the past two weeks. He always seemed to be rushing off somewhere. When was the last time she'd spoken more than a sentence to him? It left her feeling anxious, and alone. Umbridge's overbearing teaching made it all the harder to communicate if you weren't in the same house. Hermione realise now why a lot of students engaged in inter-house dating broke up. It was hard to maintain such an effort, even without Umbridge breathing down their necks at every opportunity.
Despite it being her birthday, double Potions put her in a foul mood. She hadn't had time to open her presents that morning, too tired to get up early. She'd have to open them before dinner, and hope she could catch everyone to give her thanks.
Hermione was glad she'd waited, however, upon seeing the gifts. There were more than she had anticipated. Harry gave her a Sneakoscope, which was thoughtful – he knew she was jumpy after the whole fake Moody debacle, which was ironic for she was sure he got the idea from Barty Crouch Jr himself about the object. Ron had given her a book about house elves – archaic and bigoted thought the book was, it would help to give insight into the creatures and their place in the wizarding world. If Hermione wanted to change things, she had to start with understanding how they were currently. The twins gave her their, apparently, first successful batch of what they called Puking Pastilles, a way to skive off of classes. Of course, it wasn't as if Hermione would be using them for their intended purpose, but she supposed she could see their usefulness in a sticky situation. The thought of Umbridge being especially awful made her stuff them in the pocket of her robes. Ginny had gifted her a few bottles of Sleekeazy's, much to Hermione amusement, with a note to use them wisely. Considering she'd have to use them all at once to achieve anything even remotely resembling her hair at the Yule Ball nearly a year ago, Hermione resolved to leave them at home over Christmas – her mother might get better use out of them.
Speaking ofher parents, whom she really needed to write to more often – they had given her a delicate cashmere jumper in a powder blue that made her think fondly of her baby blanket. It was delightfully soft, and terribly warm – perfect for the coming winter months.
Finally, the last present she had was from Cedric. Although, it wasn't so much a present as it was simply a card. A little miffed, but telling herself it was silly to feel that way, she opened the parchment to see his familiar neat print.
Hermione,
I'm sorry things have been so hectic lately. Meet me in the kitchens around seven thirty, we have much to talk about.
See you soon,
Cedric
Trying to ignore the uneasy feeling that took over her at the words 'talk', Hermione stowed away her presents in safe places for later attention and, looking at the clock, swiftly made her way to the kitchens.
Tickling the pear, she did not expect such chaos upon entering.
"Miss, miss, you is needing anything miss?" The tiny voice was rushed, but still attentive. Looking around, Hermione saw that the elves were still cooking some things for the dinner that was currently being served in the Great Hall. Some of the elves were cleaning, muttering under their breaths about messy students with fondness.
"Oh, uhm…" Hermione stumbled over her words, unsure.
"We're fine, Mitsy. We'll let you know if we need anything." The small house elf squeaked in reply, bowing so low her nose almost touched the floor before skittering away to help her fellow elves.
Hermione turned, and saw Cedric smiling down at her. It was easy to forget how tall he was when she mostly saw him as they sat down somewhere – his inches on her were comforting, rather than intimidating. Hermione knew that if he wanted to, he could engulf her in his arms and she would be surrounded by his strong arms and sweet, treacle tart scent.
"Happy Birthday," He wished her, and his arms did just that. She wrapped her own around his middle, resting her bushy head on his chest with a happy sigh.
"Thanks," She said, pulling away. Her anxiety returned, however, gnawing at her throat like a question bursting to be asked. "You wanted to talk?"
"Nothing bad, I promise," He assured her, leading her with a hand on the small of her back toward the Hufflepuff table – of course, the kitchens replicated the Great Hall and so she saw her Gryffindor table right next to the Hufflepuff table.
"Just some roast beef, Mitsy, thanks!" Cedric called across the kitchens, and she saw a little hand do a thumbs-up before retreating back into the sea of elves. Amused, Hermione let loose a chuckle.
"They're still slaves," Hermione said, trying to be disappointed. It was hard, when the food smelt so good and the company sat so close.
"You really need to read up on house elves a bit more. Didn't Ron give you a book?"
Hermione's eyebrows raised, surprised.
"How did you know that?" She asked curiously, trying to catch his eyes. He was looking at his newly present roast beef with relish, however. Hermione suddenly felt her own hunger, growling at her in anger. She dug in.
"We talk." He said mysteriously. "Tell me about your classes."
Hermione, all to eager to explain how horrid Umbridge was and how worried she was about the state of things, managed to chat away heartily until she was scraping at the bottom of her bowl after a generous helping of apple pie.
"Look at me, I've talked myself silly." Hermione said, gesturing at the way she had spilt some of her apple pie and ice cream soupy mixture on her jumper. Luckily, she had a second Hogwarts jumper to rotate. "Where have you been the past few weeks?"
Cedric looked a little more serious at her question, the amusement at her clumsiness fading from his face slowly.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Firstly, I want to apologise."
Hermione opened her mouth to tell him that was redundant, but was beaten to it by his hand, which placed itself on her lips gently.
"I do need to apologise," He rebutted her silent protest, "I haven't been around as much as you, or I, want."
He removed his hand when she didn't try to speak further. As soon as she did, she grumbled out her displeasure.
"It's not like I tried especially hard to find you, either." Hermione admitted, a little ashamed. She looked down at her hands, twisting in her lap. Her uniform skirt was at her knees, and her tights hid her skin from view – but she still felt the warm emanating from Cedric's own trouser-clad legs. Their knees were knocking as they looked to each other, empty plates forgotten.
"We've both had things on our mind," Cedric explained, and his right hand came into view, nudging up her chin so he could lock eyes with her. Hermione gave a small smile, her own hand coming up to cradle his and he swept some hair from her face. "But I am truly sorry."
"For what it's worth," Hermione replied, leaning her head into his palm a little, "I am, as well."
"Apology accepted," He announced, smiling. The skin around his eyes was crinkling, his eyes themselves reflecting the warmth of the fireplace nearby. The chatter and banging of the house elves and their pots and pans felt far away, like they weren't even in the same room. "If only things with my friends had been as simple."
Hermione frowned as Cedric's hand dropped from her cheek.
"Your friends?" Hermione asked, "Ced?" She added, after he didn't continue at her prompting. She put her right hand over his, and squeezed reassuringly.
"That's why I haven't been able to see you," Cedric said, looking down at their entwined hands, "My friends, they haven't been exactly happy with me." He sighed, exasperated, "I tried to explain, I needed some space after Mum–" He went silent, taking a deep breath to compose himself, "But they mentioned how I was with you, and I tried to explain that things were different now, after the Final Task," Cedric looked as if he'd admitted too much, but ploughed on anyway, "We've got to be more inclusive than ever."
Hermione searched his eyes, wondering what he was thinking. There was something he wasn't saying, but it didn't seem important. In fact, Cedric merely looked as if he'd accepted it a long time ago, but wasn't sure whether she would. Well, she wouldn't push him. His comment about his mother had reminded her that he was still grieving and, in many ways, he always would be. He didn't talk about his father, and Hermione didn't particularly want to ask – Amos Diggory scared her with the way he could be callous about a lot of things that were so deeply sensitive.
Cedric would tell her in time, and when he was ready. If it were important or time sensitive, she would know.
"You're right," Hermione agreed, squeezing his hand again.
"I know," He said cheekily, and Hermione gave him a playful shove and a grin. "But I haven't exactly been living up to my word, so–" He straightened up, and looked her dead in the eye. She felt her cheeks grow flushed at his attention, still unused to it.
"Hermione Granger, will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"
Grinning so wide her cheeks hurt, Hermione nodded. Cedric's answering grin was obscured only because he leant forward, and placed his lips on hers.
It was weird, Hermione mused, kissing someone when you were both smiling. It was more teeth than actual lip, but still immensely satisfying. Soon enough, they both managed to abate their happiness to kiss properly.
Cedric's hands moved up to hold her head in place, skimming her jaw. Hermione's own rested on his neck and his side, and she shifted closer to ease the strain on her neck with the angle.
His lips were incredibly soft – a contrast to her own, chapped from hours of biting as she wrote essay after essay – and she managed to nibble lightly at his bottom one before he pulled back, his breath blowing over her lips for a moment in their close proximity.
It was with a strange sort of detachment that Hermione realised the kitchens was where they'd kissed for the first time, all those months ago. Maybe, at Hogsmeade, they could increase their tally.
"Damnit," Hermione swore, cringing out of Cedric's hold. His curious eyes held hers as he tilted his head in question, "Hogsmeade gets a bit more complicated."
"Are you going to explain or shall I just sit here waiting to be kissed?" Cedric said, a smirk on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes, but kissed him anyway.
After a few minutes she broke away, out of breath.
"Okay, no, I need to tell you," she said as Cedric's lips descended down her neck, sucking and biting.
"Mmhmm," Cedric prompted, and the hum wait straight into her neck, through her bones and down to her centre, which gave a small throb.
"Cedric," She started, but it sounded more like a moan. Her hand found his hair as his head came up, lips capturing hers once more.
He licked into her mouth, but she pulled away before she could completely forget what she had to tell him.
"There's a meeting," She said, breathing heavily. Her forehead rested against his, "At the Hog's Head."
"A meeting for what?" He breathed out, trying to connect their lips again. She drew back just enough to stop him.
"We've decided to have Harry teach us Defence," Hermione clarified, struggling to sound normal through her slightly swollen lips, "We're drawing up a member's charter during the Hogsmeade weekend."
Sensing the seriousness of the situation, Cedric pulled back, his hands falling from her jaw to settle comfortably at her hips, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles into her waist.
"I was wondering – I know you said you'd had problems, but you should invite your friends," Hermione suggested, and hurried to continue at his taken aback look, "Just the ones you trust the most. We need numbers, and it'll be good to mix the houses. If you could invite Cho, as well," Hermione added reluctantly, "Tell her to bring friends she trusts completely, too."
"I can do that," He said slowly, licking his lips. Hermione was distracted for a moment before giving her head a shake.
"Good," She said, smiling, "The meeting's at ten o'clock. Don't be late – we don't want Umbridge to catch even a sniff of what we're up to."
"I'll keep my silence, then," Cedric said warmly, staring at her lips.
"I suppose you will…" Hermione trailed off, distracted.
She didn't return to her dorm until nearly midnight, throat sore from talking and lips sore from… well, other things.
The Hogsmeade weekend – the first weekend in October – dawned bright and early. Despite the cold wind, and threats of heavy rain from the dark, stormy clouds overhead, they managed to make their way into the village without having to use any drying charms on their clothes.
"Where's Sirius meeting us?" Harry inquired quietly as they took off their coats and scarves inside the door of the Hog's Head. Shady as it was, there were no students or teachers about – perfect.
"Here, of course." Hermione said. Ron had taken the liberty of informing Sirius of their meeting time – he'd been the only one in the common room late enough the night Sirius had last popped in. Although he had managed to gain a spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as their new Keeper now that Wood had graduated, it meant that he had less time for homework. Subsequently, for fear of losing his place in the team, he was actually staying up late and completing it all. Hermione had been in awe, and proud. Ron could be studious, when he wanted to be.
"He's joining the meeting?" Harry said incredulously, drawing a few curious looks.
"Keep your voice down!" Hermione hissed quietly, smiling brightly at those who continued to stare. They looked away eventually.
"We thought – well, Ron thought, rather brilliantly actually–" Her friend's face grew red, "That no one would expect him to turn up here, of all places. Hiding in plain sight – it's genius, isn't it?" Hermione gushed, looking at Ron with appreciation. "Besides, Malfoy considers himself too good to come here. We'll be fine," She added at Harry's worried look.
"Come on," Ron muttered, leading them away from the door, "Let's head up the back. That's where I said we'd meet everyone."
Trudging around disgruntled wizards and witches alike, the three of them stopped by the bar to grab some Butterbeers before retreating to the back, in line of the door but not the first area you'd look if you walked in. They needed to be on the look out for Umbridge, but in sight of the others who had yet to join them.
"I'm surprised you didn't come with Cedric," Harry commented, taking a seat.
"He's on his way," Hermione answered distractedly, peering around a rather rotund witch to glimpse the door better. At the silence that followed, she looked back at Harry. "What?"
"Cedric's coming?" Harry asked, and he blinked owlishly behind his glasses as if surprised.
"Of course, Harry," Hermione said, "He saw Voldemort that night too, you know. Oh look," Hermione added, having turned back to the door, "That might be some of the others now."
And indeed it was. Neville was first through the door, a timid expression on his face despite leading his friends, followed by Dean, Lavender and Parvati. Parvati held the hand of her sister Padma, from Ravenclaw, who was followed by Cho and two of Cho's friends. Looking far too interested in their location, Luna Lovegood followed dreamily behind them. Ginny entered, chatting away to the Ravenclaw in front of her. Dean spotted the three of them first, giving a nod of his head as he led them all over. Behind Ginny, three Ravenclaw boys came in – Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot – as well as Ernie, who looked far too happy to be surrounded by such glum older wizards. Bringing up the rear was Cedric, and three of his Hufflepuff friends who, with embarrassment, Hermione realised she didn't know the name of, although she thought she might recognise one or two of them from the Quidditch team. As Captain, it would make sense that they were friends with Cedric that way.
Just before the door closed on him, Sirius slipped through – his black, shaggy fur could be seen as he was large dog. Cedric looked down at him, trying not to laugh.
"Just a few people, you said!" Harry hissed under his breath to Ron as Luna sat nearby, her radish earrings looking particularly… fetching. Sirius bounded over, nipping playfully at Harry's fingers before Harry resolved to pet him distractedly. Sirius had no shame. "How is this a few people?"
"Well, mate, they all wanted to come," Ron said honestly after greeting a few of the Ravenclaws – he'd obviously invited them himself. "They all wanted to hear what you had to say."
"That's a right laugh," Harry said dryly, giving grim smiles to Cedric and his friends. Despite the grisly welcome, Cho was grinning at him brightly. Harry didn't seem to notice. Ginny had a dark look on her face, though.
"What am I supposed to say?" Harry whispered urgently as everyone seemed to quiet down at the realisation that they were all there.
"Just tell them why we're here, Harry," Hermione muttered out of the corner of her mouth, giving Cedric a thankful nod when he inclined his head toward his friends as if to ask 'This enough?'.
"Alright, alright!" A loud voice acquiesced. Their group turned to the door, where two tall redheads were walking in. "We'll give you your money later!"
A small first year looked cross but satisfied, turning around and leaving the Weasley twins frustrated at the door. They bustled over quickly, and once the patrons noticed who they were, they directed their attention elsewhere. It seemed they were infamous, even in the Hog's Head.
"Did we miss anything?" George said, looking around at the surprised faces.
"I don't think so, George. I think we arrived in the nick of time."
"Bravo!" George clapped his hands together, "Let's get on with it then." He and Fred both looked expectantly at Harry.
"Erm," Harry stuttered, now standing. Hermione nudged him forward. "Hermione had the idea that – rubbish as Umbridge is–" They were exclamations of agreement, which made Harry's sombre face break into a smile, "We should still be learning how to actually use defensive spells. So, we – Hermione – figured that we could start a– a club."
There were murmurs amongst the group, and Hermione looked to Cedric for help.
He cleared his throat, causing all heads to swivel toward him. Harry looked grateful.
"Now that Voldemort–" Although the word was said quietly, the response around the group was immediate: Neville looked slightly constipated, Lavender had gasped loudly, a lot of the Ravenclaws were grimaced, and Cho seemed to have flinched. Cedric's friends looked taken aback, whilst the leftovers had gotten used to Harry saying Voldemort's name for years. The only person who didn't have a reaction was Luna, who just blinked calmly. "is back, we ought to know how to defend ourselves."
"Who's to say he's back, then?" A voice from behind the Ravenclaw group piped up. A shaky Parvati stepped aside so everyone could better see the boy – he was a Hufflepuff, probably in their year but Hermione couldn't recognise him.
"Who're you?" Ron said rudely, unimpressed.
"Zacharias Smith," The boy answered testily, looking displeased, "How do we even know he is back? Dumbledore didn't tell us anything important."
"He told you enough," Cedric said darkly, taking a step forward. His friends pulled him back.
"That is to say," Hermione said hurriedly, standing. "Dumbledore told all of you what we told him."
"And that is?" Smith said snidely. Hermione was really starting to dislike him.
"That Voldemort was never dead – he's returned, stronger now than ever. I – I saw him, that night. So did Cedric. Harry… Harry felt him through his scar. This is real." Hermione emphasised at their shocked faces. "And if you don't believe it, if you've come here just to hear stories and proclaim they're false then you can leave."
No one moved a muscle, Hermione noted with satisfaction. That would make things easier when it came time to sign the magical charter. They couldn't have this getting out to Umbridge.
"Susan Bones. Is it true," said a friendly voice, and a few people shuffled around to reveal a pale girl with her black hair in a plait. Susan. "That you can produce a corporeal Patronus, Harry?"
Harry looked a little surprised to be addressed so directly, but nodded slowly.
"Er, yeah, it is." There were more mutters around.
"Wow," Hermione heard Lavender say quietly, and she couldn't help but agree.
"Harry!" Lee Jordan exclaimed. Where were all these people popping up from? "Blimey, that's incredible!"
Harry looked deeply uncomfortable.
"And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" Terry Boot asked, his face awed, "One of the portraits told me when I was in there last year."
"Yeah, I did." Harry was looking a little more confident now, but still too uncomfortable for Hermione's liking.
"He also helped protect the Philosopher's Stone in first year," Hermione piped up, ignoring the betrayed look Harry shot her. Serves him right, being a hero all the time.
"Not to mention all those tasks in the tournament, last year." Ginny said, and Harry flushed slightly. "The dragon, the merpeople! Hermione did the maze, though. Cedric, too. Both of them faced Voldemort and survived!" There were impressed mutters about, and Hermione desperately tried to steer the conversation away from her. This was about Harry.
"Look," Harry started, saving her the trouble, "That all sounds great when you say it like that, but all of us had help every time. Without Ron and Hermione, I wouldn't have been able to get to the Philosopher's Stone at all. A house elf helped me with the second task – I mean, it's not hard! You've just got to learn!"
And there it was. Hermione had a triumphant smile on her face, she was sure.
"That's the reason we're here, Harry. We all want to learn."
"And pass our OWLs," said one of the Ravenclaw boys under his breath.
"So we're all agreed?" Ron prodded, looking around at all of them, "We want Harry to teach us?"
Everyone looked eager, save for Smith who seemed wary about the glares the Weasley twins were giving him.
"We need to meet regularly for it all to stick," Hermione began.
"We've all got Quidditch to consider," Cedric said as it looked like Angelina Johnson had something to say about it, "but this is important."
"Hear, hear!" Piped up Ernie.
Sirius gave a bark in agreement. A few of the students, only just now noticing him, looked confused at his presence.
"Er," Harry said jerkily, trying to explain. Suddenly, a previously hooded wizard shot up out of his seat, staring at Sirius with horror, his face pale. A finger came up, pointing.
"Sirius Black! BLACK IN HOGSMEADE!"
Everyone looked around, and Hermione shared a terrified look with Harry and Ron. Sirius couldn't be caught – it would ruin everything. Harry would be devastated and Sirius… he would undoubtedly be given the Kiss!
"What are you on about, William?" The wizard's companion asked incredulously as the patrons all shared scared looks and murmurs, heads peering around for a look at the fugitive.
"BLACK! BLACK IS HERE!" As the crowd grew louder and more upset, Hermione put her hand into her pocket for her wand in case of an emergency when–
Puking Pastilles.
"Take this," Hermione whispered fiercely, striding over quickly and pushing one of the Pastilles into Cedric's gobsmacked hands. His eyes bounced between hers for a second before he shoved the candy in his mouth, and suddenly turned unbelievably pale. Turning around, he puked all over William and his friend.
"Eugh!" The witch made a noise of disgust, shaking off some bits of vomit from her sleeve.
"Sirius," Hermione bent down to the dog, "Go."
"Black is here, I see him!"
Sirius trotted away out of the pub, out into what looked to be a rainy day.
"Oh shut up, William. Oh no, not again–"
William was now coated in the vomit, officially distracted.
"Cedric, are you okay? What's wrong?"
"Get your friend out of here!" screeched the woman, knocking over her Firewhiskey to avoid another spray of vomit.
"Sorry," Cedric mumbled miserably, holding his stomach. He puked again all over the floor, his hands now trembling as they wiped at his own mouth.
"Come on," his friends urged him, tugging him toward the door. "We'll take you to the hospital wing."
A few minutes later, now that William had disappeared out of the pub with his friend cursing at him, Hermione announced the need for a list of names.
As everyone signed, she looked at the list of names with a sense of achievement. Nearly thirty names. Much better than she had anticipated. And if they gained more members after their first meeting, they could have over thirty soon enough. Things seemed promising.
"I hope Diggory's okay." Lee said in passing as he and the twins left the pub. They were leaving in groups a few minutes apart to avoid suspicion. With all the drama surrounding Sirius, surely they would not be the talk of the weekend.
"You better give him the antidote soon, Hermione," Ron said out of the corner of his mouth, clapping Neville on the back in farewell as he left with Luna and Ginny.
"Yeah, I'll head up as soon as I can," She muttered back, thinking up all the ways she could repay her boyfriend. She just hoped the antidote would work…
"I think that went well, don't you?" Hermione surmised once everyone else had left and they had finished their Butterbeers, allowing a little more time between them and Dean and Parvati, who'd looked awfully cosy leaving the dodgy pub together.
"Yeah," Harry breathed out, sighing as if in relief, "Weird about that guy and Sirius, though."
"We'll have to ask him about it," Ron said, and Hermione knew he probably felt bad about suggesting Sirius join them in the first place. At Harry's frown, she decided she'd comfort her friend later.
"I hope you noticed something, Harry," Hermione said, smiling slightly as she thought of what she was going to say.
"Hmm? And what's that?" He said distractedly, gazing at Honeydukes as if deciding whether or not he should enter.
"Ginny couldn't stop smiling at you."
Harry looked completely amazed. Ron was spluttering.
"What has that got to do with anything?" He demanded with heat.
"Oh honestly, Ron, don't be so obtuse. Ginny's liked Harry for years."
"Yeah, but," Ron was floundering, looking for something to say, "She's never done anything about it!"
"That's because she didn't know him properly."
Ron continued to rebut her as they headed into the sweet shop. Before she departed, telling them she needed to give Cedric the antidote, Hermione couldn't help but notice the giddy look on Harry's face. Ron was oblivious.
Ah, Hermione thought with a grin as she tucked her hands in her robe pockets to fight the wind and light rain.
Young love!
Wow, this was a long one. A lot to say and a lot to do. I'm trying to get the ball moving because much of the events are so dull, especially when you know what's going to happen as you guys do. A few things have been changed, obviously, to take into account what I want to happen for the rest of the story, but also all the events that have already happened to Hermione – you might notice a lack of feverish belief in house elf freedom… I think Hermione would have mellowed out a little after seeing Voldemort. It's all going to have an effect – hence, "The Butterfly Effect".
No Snape in this chapter – R.I.P Alan Rickman, you will be missed.
Send me your thoughts!