Wow. Thank you for all of your kind reviews. I very much appreciate it. :)
Author's Notes and Answers: Thank you to the reviewer who corrected my French mistakes. I really do appreciate it; I need help sometimes because while I'm in mid-level French, I'm nowhere near fluent. And the reason I chose the title I'll Worry About It Later, was because I wanted this to define Hermione's character in this fiction. Yes, she's very intelligent and rule-bent, but we have seen her break these rules and suprise us many times over the entire franchise.
About this fic: While this is definitely going to be a Fleur/Hermione fic, it will definitely focus a great deal on the Trio's friendship and them expanding as characters. There will be romance in later chapters, as you can already see it begin to build subtly in my first chapter, but there will also be a lot of adolescent adventure. Just letting you know. ;)
I apologize for the slowness of this chapter; I'm trying to create a plot, so bare with me.
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Chapter Two: Veela(Are Seemingly Easily Offended)/The Second-Generation Marauders(Curiosity Killed The Cat)
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The Hogwart's Library: 12:30 pm. 3 weeks after the Black Lake.
Hermione sighed in an annoyed fashion as Ron popped yet another chocolate frog into his mouth.
She had somehow managed to convince both Harry and Ron that getting their assignments done early was crucial; or she might have admittedly dragged them into the library.
And as much as she took both of their schooling very seriously - even though they really didn't - and tried to continuously assist with her logic, she was beginning to think that this little study trip had been an unfortunate mistake on her part. Because Harry was drooling as much as he was actively writing, and Ron was eating chocolate frogs and just letting his detached gaze scourge over the library lazily. It was disturbing as much as it was infuriating. And it was beginning to become an even more perfect scene; Harry now had his head flat against the table with his quill pressed unattractively against his cheek.
And Ron was - like usual - deemed completely and utterly hopeless; he had chocolate on the side of his mouth and he was crafting a bit of parchment into an unknown shape.
Madam Pince had been continuously sneaking her head out and watching the group of three. Her mouth was set in a firm line and she was eyeing Ron and Harry with absolute distaste; her eyes sometimes softened on Hermione on occasion. But Hermione was doing all she really could to stop them from getting kicked out of the library; she was the one making sure to clear up Ron's chocolate frog wrappers.
Hermione gritted her teeth when she heard an obnoxious smack come from the red-headed boy next to her.
"Will you stop acting like a complete and utter pig, Ronald," hissed Hermione, quietly. "If she catches you with chocolate -"
"She won' catch me," muttered Ron, his mouth full of chocolate. "I dunno 'bout you or Harry, but I'm one stealthy bloke."
She was absolutely sure that her face must have reflected her complete disbelief over his statement. But as he continued to unwrap yet another chocolate frog and grin at Harry's slumped form, she surmised that he hadn't noticed. But then again, when had he really ever? Ron was about as oblivious as a memory-devoided Gilderoy Lockhart. And while she adored the boy and really valued his friendship, it honestly was very trying on her part. They were opposites in every way and poor Harry was constantly stuck in the middle of their little spats; whether it be a small tiff or a large blow-out.
She just shook her head and forcefully pushed back her negative assessment of their long-time friendship. She determinedly closed her Charms book and moved to stand, looking over to Ron; she finally caught his gaze and motioned her head toward one of the many rows of books. He just nodded non-commitedly and went back to watching Harry with an amused grin.
"I'll be back in a moment," she murmured, mostly to herself, as she hastined into the third row of books.
She just glanced over each row in slight interest as she absent-mindedly let her fingers caress the spines of the books. She briefly looked at Advanced Charms in Defense, before moving on to the next row. She just sighed and was about to just return to the table - despite her annoyance - until a particular book had managed to catch her eye. It was a rather fitting large tomb of a book; it was most definitely an old literature, and the neatly inscriptive spine and the gold lettering attested to that. Hermione's brows furrowed as a vague sense of familiarity captured her.
Her eyes widened as she recalled that this was the book that Gabrielle Delacour had shown a particular interest in that day.
She bit her lip softly and reached out to grab the book gently off the shelf; she opened the front cover - which seemed to be spelled to stay on because of its rather old condition - and her eyes widened at what graced the inside of the beautifully old work of art. Why would Gabrielle pick this book among others?
'Magical Creatures In A Magical World: The Rituals/Debts/Lifestyle Habits of Veela/Centaurs/Merpeople.'
Did the youngest Delacour perhaps want her to know the culturalistic ways of her people? Or was Gabrielle not privy to knowledge until a certain age and she was considerably curious?
Hermione felt a warm thrill erupt through her veins at the familiar feeling of curiosity. She released a shaky breath and licked her lips excitedly as a grin blossomed on her soft features; she just absolutely knew that she would be quite persistant until she discovered Gabrielle and Fleur's mysterious personas and properly learn about the Veela race. But a small tidbit of Hermione also felt a hint of doubt fester inside of her; Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour seemed to be very private people - from a very honourable race - and did not seem to want knowledge about them - whether true or false - to be spread among others.
Hermione just held the book in her hands and bit her lip as she contemplated her dilemma.
She released a yelp and nearly dropped the old tomb when a screeching voice echoed throughout the library. Her eyes widened in realization and she hastily put the book back on the shelf - properly and primly, of course - as she quickly made her way over to a screeching Madam Pince, a confused and sleepy Harry, and a completely horrified Ron. The elder witch looked furious, and she was gesturing wildly at the empty chocolate wrappers; Ron shrunk back in absolute fear as spittle flew from the woman's mouth. If Hermione were not completely exasperated - and angry - herself, then she would have been considerably amused.
She quickly made her way into the fray and hastily grabbed her belongings; she shot a deeply apologetic look at Madam Pince, who looked just about ready to explode.
Ron and Harry matched her pace and movements at an alarming speed, and they didn't stop their movements until the reached the outside of the library.
"CHOCOLATE IN MY LIBRARY! I HAVE NEVER -"
"SUCH FOOLISH CHILDREN! IN ALL MY YEARS AS AN EDUCATOR!"
This spew continued for several more minutes as Hermione, Ron, and Harry ran down the corrider at a break-neck speed. They were panting and red-faced by the time they had completely rounded the corner and made sure all of their belongings were in tow. Hermione - after a minute of recovery and glowering glances at Ron - put her hands on her hips and looked at Ron angrily.
Ron tried to act nonchalant; he shrugged his shoulders and ruffled his hair with his large and freckly hand.
"She sure can be a right tart at that time of the month," he mumbled.
Harry and Hermione glowered.
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Hogsmeade Village: 1:15 pm.
After Hermione had thoroughly lectured Ron until his ears had turned beet red, she had made her way to the Hogwart's entrance, where Fleur and Gabrielle had been waiting.
She had promised Fleur and Gabrielle that she would show them Hogsmeade and show them around the very familiar territory; Gabrielle had looked so excited and Fleur had looked so friendly that Hermione just couldn't have possibly said no. Fleur had come up the day before - with Gabrielle in tow - and asked if Hermione might take them to the village that all the students seemed to visit.
She felt a little guilty at ditching Ron and Harry; she also felt a little guilty that she wasn't exactly spending an ideal amount of time with Viktor, either.
But she pushed it aside and fully embraced the friendship that Fleur and Gabrielle seemed to readily bestow upon her. Because like she had mentioned previous, she really was coming to enjoy the two girl's company; it was certainly an upgrade from getting kicked out of the library for something she didn't even achieve herself. As much as she loved Harry and Ron, it was a fresh change of pace that Hermione was becoming increasingly fascinated by. She was almost excited by every friendly encounter that she and the two Delacours had; she concluded that she had surrounded herself with Harry and Ron for far too long.
Maybe she was just glad that she was finally having intelligent conversations with the same sex.
She was pulled out of her musings by an excited hand grabbing onto her elbow and tugging gently; she looked down towards Gabrielle.
Hermione could only turn around and look at Fleur with wide eyes as she was dragged away towards the candy shop; Fleur's eyes with mysteriously bright as she gazed at them with her lip quirked in one corner. Hermione turned back around and allowed Gabrielle to freely roam the shop; the young Delacour was studying the engorged lollipops with wide eyes. It had taken that single movement for Hermione to remember how truly young Gabrielle was. She just acted so mature for her age, and she was so intelligent at times that Hermione even found herself happily listening to her little theories.
Fleur appeared silently at Hermione's side and also surveyed her little sister's movements. "Really, 'Ermione, zank 'ou for doing this."
"I-it really is no problem," assured Hermione, after her initial suprise wore off. "You two are my friends now and I think you should enjoy your experience here."
Fleur's posture was relaxed and friendly - which Hermione definitely preferred over her confident, aloof one - and she was now exuding a certain warmth around her. It made Hermione smile for reasons unknown; she suspected that it was the fact that Fleur and Gabrielle considered her trust-worthy enough to be even somewhat open with her. She appreciated it, because she had been finding herself respecting them both even more so as time continued to pass. It was nice to have a friendship built on actual respect for once, instead of dependency and endangerment issues.
"I already 'ave," murmured Fleur, gazing at her gently and tilting her head in a friendly acknowledgement.
Hermione felt a soft blush overwhelm her features at Fleur's indirect praise. "You really are giving me too much credit."
"Non, 'ou are getting everyzing 'ou deserve when I give 'ou praise," said Fleur, her voice suddenly losing its gentle reverence and becoming strong.
"I just helped with her, though, " murmured Hermione, gesturing towards Gabrielle's still roaming form. "Harry was the one that saved her and I saved her by association."
Fleur just shook her beautiful blonde hair and gazed at Hermione with a raised eyebrow. Hermione was admittedly intimidated; she couldn't tell if the French witch looked annoyed with her or if she looked amused at her modesty. She had seen Fleur's annoyance before - snobbyish - and she only hoped that it was amusement, because she really enjoyed being on friendly terms with the Beauxbaton's champion and she would be rather remiss if that were to suddenly change because of her humbleness.
Fleur's eyes seemed to soften slightly as she noticed the brunette's hesitant observation; Hermione released a breath that she hadn't been aware of when Fleur smiled a genuine smile at her.
"I zink zat 'ou are pre' aps ze most adorable zing alive," smiled Fleur, her blue eyes lighting with mirth when Hermione ducked her head.
Hermione tried to control the inevitable flush on her features by looking for Gabrielle; she heard Fleur's tinkling laugh beside her and she blushed even more. She finally - after a minute of hesitation - looked up at the French witch who was looking down at her with amusement on her features; Hermione gathered that Fleur rather liked to embarrass her; as if Harry and Ron didn't enough already.
She just tried to control her flushed cheeks and looked pointedly for Gabrielle; the girl seemed to be giggling with a first year Ravenclaw over the Tongue Twisters. She silently cheered in her head when Gabrielle made her way back over to them with a grin on her face; she was holding one of the engorged lollipops in her hands. And as much as Hermione liked talking with Fleur, there were times were she would be entirely uncomfortable with the French girl's constant jests and jokes made out to embarrass her; Gabrielle told her that Fleur did this with all her friends from Beauxbatons, and Hermione had felt momentary happiness after hearing that. It was nice that she got to see a friendly side of Fleur. That, and there something else that Hermione couldn't quite identify yet.
Gabrielle had finally stopped her movement fully in front of them; she was gazing at Fleur with a soft pleading in her eyes. Hermione restrained a giggle when the older Delacour sister raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow as she gazed at the lollipop in Gabrielle's hands and her pleading expression.
"Je le veaux," grinned Gabrielle, nervously holding up the sucker.
Hermione didn't even need a translation; the entire sisterly exchange made her grin slightly and she was once again swept away by Fleur's obvious closeness with her younger sibling.
She stepped forward and held out her hand to Gabrielle, who seemed to frown at her in confusion. Hermione gestured toward the lollipop in her hand and Gabrielle - still shooting her a hesitant look - handed it over. Hermione smiled at her reassuredly, and she ignored Fleur's slightly angry protestations as she made her way toward the counter.
"Five sickles, love," muttered the man at the counter, his face uncaring and his unkempt hair a fading grey.
She instantly reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out her wallet; she was stopped from opening it when a firm hand gripped onto her arm and turned her in the direction of the hand gripping her. She shot an incredulous glance when she saw Fleur looking at her determinedly and shaking her head at her firmly. Hermione found herself breathless at the way Fleur's piercing blue eyes swept over her; she couldn't quite determine what was in that gaze. There was something there that confused Hermione; there was determination, slight anger, pride, and something else that was ridiculously fierce.
Hermione snapped herself out of her daze and pulled her arm out of Fleur's grasp gently, attempting to open up her wallet - without interruption - once more.
The dingy man sighed. "I really don' 'ave all day, you know."
Fleur turned her blazing eyes at the man and he just cleared his throat, taking up the sickles instantly and nodding his head at them - after he had given Hermione the lollipop back - in an attempted friendly matter. If Hermione wasn't so confunded by Fleur's initial behavior, then she would have found the man's behavior considerably tickling.
" 'Ave a good day, yer three!"
Hermione rolled her eyes at the man and handed the lollipop to a now wide-eyed Gabrielle.
Gabrielle was looking up at Hermione with a stunned look across her face; Hermione began to slightly panic when the girl's eyes watered rapidly. The brunette quickly tried to apologize to the girl - her hands wringing together and her mouth opened in an attempt to explain - but she was reasonably startled when the young girl instantly reached forward and hugged her midsection tightly. Hermione just cleared her throat gently, slightly awkwardly patting the girl's back. Gabrielle finally pulled away after several long moments - of which Hermione pointedly ignored the inscrutible look Fleur was giving them - and she just gazed up at Hermione.
Hermione felt slight embarrassment - as well as a tiny smidgeon of panic - overtake her when Gabrielle just looked at her in utter adoration.
'I wonder if this is how Harry feels everyday,' mused Hermione, blindly following Gabrielle out of the shop after the girl had promptly enclosed her hand with Hermione's.
She could only watch in slight hurt as Fleur bound ahead of them; she wasn't looking back at either of them and her shoulders were as stiff as a board. She felt herself become overwhelmingly lost as to what she possibly could have done that offended the older Delacour. But she was slightly suprised when Gabrielle tugged her hand gently and pulled her to a stop; Fleur continued up ahead, not aware of the lack of movement behind her.
"Don' mind 'er," whispered Gabrielle, gazing up at Hermione with reassurance. "My seester iz very proud and 'as always been like zis."
"All I did was buy you that," Hermione murmured, frowning at the absurdness of it all. "I just wanted to treat you and it wasn't like it cost a spectacular amount."
Gabrielle just sighed and murmured something in French, tugging her hand once more so that they were walking forwards; Fleur was already a reasonable distance away. Gabrielle's striking blue eyes narrowed in thought and her young - but still stunning - face contorted in contemplation. She seemed to be struggling with the right words to say to Hermione, and all the brunette could do was watch in a bemused sort of detachment as they continuously walked. It had taken another full minute before the smaller girl said anything. And when she did, she seemed...hesitant. It was as if she didn't want to relay a certain amount of information, and it made that feeling of curiosity that Hermione felt earlier that day well up inside of her once more. It was a rapid stream of mystery that Hermione instantly deemed to discover.
"Veela are proud," sighed Gabrielle, still seemingly trying to find the words to say. "Zey don' like when uzzer people 'elp them, even if eet iz for somezing small."
Hermione bit her lip, gazing up at the now paused form of Fleur Delacour; she was determinedly looking towards the Beauxbaton carriage - which Hermione hadn't even been paying attention to how far they had gotten - and her arms were crossed in her own intimidating manner. She released a sigh and just tried to stay positive and confident as they approached even closer to Fleur.
"My seester respec's 'ou," whispered Gabrielle, seeing as they were within hearing distance now. "And iz also very fond of 'ou...never forge' zat."
Hermione nodded her head and she just watched as Gabrielle let go of her hand - looking back at her with one final smile - and headed in the direction of Fleur. She just watched with a slightly baited breath as Gabrielle gripped onto Fleur's arm as she passed her by; the girl was whispering something to her in rapid French, and Fleur's piercing blue eyes would glance up in Hermione's direction every so often. The brunette sighed when older Delacour nodded her head - seemingly in acquiescence - as to whatever message her little sister was conveying.
But her nervousness suddenly burst through her skin once more when Fleur began to walk slowly towards her direction. Gabrielle just waved at her in goodbye - there seemed to be a mischevious smile on her face - and then headed in the general direction of the Beauxbaton carriage.
She released a shaky breath when Fleur came within an arm's distance of her body.
The French witch's full, red lips pursed when she met Hermione's gaze head-on; she would be lying deeply if she so much as thought that she wasn't afraid of the Veela's reaction. Because Hermione honestly was; despite Gabrielle's words of indiscrutible comfort, Hermione still found herself slightly fearful as to what the beautiful girl would say to her. But a small part of Hermione - so faint and unsurrounding that she could almost hardly recall - felt a little anger at herself that she was so nervous as to what Fleur would say. Because despite the Veela's proud nature, she wasn't about to apologize for being friendly and therefore treating a friend.
That's why Hermione - unconsciously, she was quite sure of - lifted her chin and tried to regain her confidence lost on this honestly confusing day.
Fleur's eyes had lost whatever consumed them earlier, and she was now gazing at Hermione's confident gaze with a look of slight admiration. It made her even more confident than before; Fleur hardly ever looked at anyone with admiration or respect, and she had only seen that particular gaze aimed at Maxime, Dumbledore, Harry, and herself. It gave her a soft thrill and it made her feel even stronger, for some oddly annoying reason.
"I won't apologize," murmured Hermione, her voice firm. "I just wanted to do something nice for her because she is my friend."
Fleur's gaze was so intense that Hermione felt like there was ice covering her entire body; not the painful kind that made you quiver and feel intimidated, but the particular kind that made you feel like you were waking up to something that you didn't realize before. It made Hermione's brows furrow and she tried desperately to decipher what exactly everything meant. But when Fleur turned her head away once more, and surveyed the Beauxbaton carriage that was lined up beautifully upon the Hogward's grounds, Hermione then realized that it was one of those moments that just lasted what it was supposed to be - a moment.
For some odd reason, the feeling of disappointment lingered much heavily on Hermione's mind - and for what she didn't know, maddeningly so - than the actual mystery occuring. Never had she met someone that made her mind tremble and generate desperately to find a possible answer; except Dumbledore perhaps, but that old man made everyone feel that way.
Fleur sighed. "I didn' zink zat 'ou would do anyzing like zat."
"I-I just wanted to make you feel welcome," groaned Hermione, trying to not get exasperated. "Gabrielle said that you didn't really have any Hogwart's friends and I want to change that."
"I know zat," nodded Fleur, looking back at Hermione and uncrossing her arms. "Eet iz just uncommon for anyone to be nice to Gabrielle. Eet iz always ulterior motives."
Hermione opened her mouth to objectify to this, but Fleur shook her silvery blonde head gently.
"I know zat 'ou are different," she soothed. "Zat iz why I must apologize. My reaction was inappropriate. 'Ou 'ave already done so much by saving Gabrielle, and 'ou 'ave been very honourable."
Hermione wanted to open her mouth and protest about her heroism concerning Gabrielle, but she relented. Because Fleur seemed to be a very proud woman, and apologizing to anyone seemed to be a very rare occurance; she also remembered Gabrielle's admission to Veela being very proud creatures. So Hermione allowed Fleur to praise her without interruption, because it seemed that it was something that Fleur needed to formally say to her; the curiosity bludgeoned into her once more and she was positively itching to learn about the Delacours, or even the Veela mannerisms in general.
"Zank 'ou," murmured Fleur, her voice containing that throaty allure. "Zat iz 'hat I should say, non?"
Hermione just nodded her head shyly and smiled up at Fleur, who was now looking at her with a gentle look of kindness. She felt something odd when Fleur then proceeded toward her, so that her lithe body was now merely inches away from her own; Fleur had a considerably good three inches on Hermione.
And the look in Fleur's eyes was still kindness as she just looked down at Hermione and tilted her head in that customary sign of respect between the two. Hermione quickly echoed the movement, watching the French witches' graceful movement as the blonde hair fell onto the woman's pale and perfectly rosy cheek. Then Fleur did something that absolutely shocked Hermione. She reached out and gracefully grasped Hermione's hand in her own perfectly manicured one, and never taking her eyes off of Hermione's, she kissed the back of Hermione's hand.
Hermione felt a wicked flush envelope her entire face and neck as the French witch bestowed yet another act of chivalry upon her. She knows that it is a customary tradition, but it was still just as flattering and just as confusing as when Fleur had given her her robe after the Black Lake.
Hermione tried desperately to label it as a lack of all things chivalrous when it came to being friends with Harry and Ron; she wasn't accustomed to it.
She cleared her throat and smiled in graciousness up at Fleur, who had now dropped her hand gently and gave Hermione and friendly smile.
Fleur gestured her head at the Beauxbaton's carriage. "I shall see 'ou around, non?"
Hermione quickly nodded her head and gave Fleur a wave as she backtracked her steps and turned around and headed toward the Hogwart's entrance. She couldn't help but smile a little bit, because beside the fact of the minor misunderstanding - maybe a slight understatement - she actually had a fun time with the Delacour sisters.
"Oh! And "Ermione?"
Hermione's eyes widened and she turned around quickly at the French woman's shout. Fleur was now at the very front of the Beauxbaton's carriage; she was had turned sideways and she now had a very mischevious smile on her face. She found herself considerably worried when Fleur's eyes sparked with a little humor; she always was embarrassed when the French witch teased her.
"I 'ave 'eard about 'our womanly charms," shouted Fleur, laughing delightfully. "I s'ppose that I am next, non?"
Hermione's eyes bugged out slightly and her jaw quivered with utter shock - and more than a little humiliation - as Fleur now shot her a mock-tempted look across the Hogwart's courtyard. The French witch was happily putting her hands on her hips and raising her eyebrow at a - now blushing - Hermione. Fleur always had a considerably wicked sense of humor; it wasn't as fun when it was aimed at her...which was now.
" 'Ou didn' 'ave to charm Gabrielle as well," Fleur teasingly shouted. " 'Ou could 'ave just asked if you wanted a date."
Hermione was pretty sure her face resembled a tomato right now; she hastily turned around and began walking quickly into the Hogwart's entrance, still listening to Fleur's teasing laughter at the Beauxbaton's carriage. She honestly didn't know whether to be relieved that Fleur obviously had a sense of humor about it all, or be horrified that Fleur had a sense of humor about it all. All she knew was that she was ridiculously relieved that she was now successfully hidden in the Hogwart's walls and that she didn't have to face Fleur with her embarrassment. But as she walked down the considerably dark hallways, she realized two things.
One: She was now fascinated and ridiculously determined to get her hands on that Veela book.
Two: Fleur obviously had read the Daily Prophet.
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The Gryffindor Common Room: 10:15 pm.
Luckily, Harry and Ron were not exactly bitter when Hermione had gone off to Hogsmeade without them.
Well, Harry certainly hadn't been: Ron had found out who she had gone with and promptly began asking Hermione several series of questions pertaining to Fleur's interests.
And Hermione was honestly about to completely lose her already waning patience with the boy. Because he hadn't necessarily caught on that she was outright ignoring him; he should have though, because it had been the better part of two hours as of this point. They were sitting around the closest sofa next to the fireplace; their usual spot. Harry was on the chair and doing his Divination essay only half-heartedly; his emerald green eyes would constantly drift to everyone else in the common room before he would write another sentence. He would only give a non-committed shrug or nod of his head when Ron would ask him something.
And Ron was currently sharing the sofa with Hermione; actually, he was nearly taking up the entire sofa and Hermione was pushed up into the corner with her legs underneath her and her Arithmancy book on the arm of the sofa. She didn't mind, because she would rather not be anywhere near Ron when she finally lost her patience and practically mauled the boy. But he just continued to babble on happily, a pack of Droobles on the floor beside him - responsibly, as well as his Potions book - and his arms propped underneath his head of fiery red hair.
"Reckon they don' have anyt'ing in Zonko's that Fleur would like very much," he mumbled, his mouth halfway full with Droobles.
Hermione just sighed and continued to read her book, glancing at Harry's exasperated eye roll out of the corner of her eyes. She had just mentioned that they had only visited a few shops; one being the candy shop and Fleur had briefly looked into The Hogs Head before pulling her head out with her nose scrunched in distaste. And now Ron was giving a running commentary about what Fleur would like in Hogsmeade.
"I reckon they wouldn't, Ronald," she sighed, turning the page of her book slowly.
Harry seemed as desperate as her, so he attempted to change the subject. "Pince tried to maul us when we passed by the library earlier tonight."
Thankfully, it worked.
"I know," groaned Ron, shaking his head. "Had only a little chocolate and the woman goes barmy."
Hermione sighed. "Maybe if you had listened in the first place..."
"I forgot one bloody wrapper, 'Mione," growled Ron. "It's not like I had gotten it all over and made'a mess out'a everything!"
She just let loose a suffering sigh and gazed into the fire; Ron just continued on with his rant of why teachers always lost their heads - reasonably so - when students seemed to do something 'minor' in regards to bending the rules. Harry only looked half-way torn inbetween agreeing with Ron and and just looking annoyed at him. He decidedly settled on the first choice.
"We just went there to finish our work, Hermione," muttered Harry. "It's not like we were eating chocolate and getting it all over the entire library."
Hermione just shook her head and didn't even attempt to get in on the argument; Harry and Ron together always formed a considerably stubborn - and formidable - team. A small part of her wanted to argue back, because she had been looking around the library when they were 'attempting' to finish their schoolwork; she had been kicked out of the library for something she didn't even do. And that one thought in her head triggered her memory instantly.
The Veela book.
She had honestly forgotten all about it when she had returned and saw Harry and Ron earlier; now it was past curfew and she had no way to getting the book. She cursed inwardly, because even just the mere memory of her conversations with Gabrielle and Fleur rang loudly in her head; she felt that overwhelming curiosity begin to consume her once more. She readily tried to ignore it; she began concentrating on her Arithmancy book with a renounced fervor, and she even tried listening in on a conversation about Quidditch after she realized she couldn't concentrate on Arithmancy.
She wanted that book.
She pushed aside her screaming conscious that was telling her that she could get it tomorrow as soon as the library opened. But that familiar feeling that Hermione felt whenever she was desperate to learn more reared its ugly head and it kept tugging at her mind insistantly; she realized that she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight unless she had gotten that book and sustained her curiosity. It was something that was a reward - for all of her built up knowledge and spectacular grades - and a curse simultaneously. It was definitely a curse to her as of right now, because she felt guilty that she would be learning things that she might not is supposed to know, and because it was past curfew and there was no way to get that book without a little rule-bending of her own.
But she had snapped her book shut determinedly when she felt herself already humming with anticipation; she would never admit that rule-breaking was as exciting as it was following the rules and being praised for it. Maybe Harry and Ron really had transferred a part of themselves into her over the last four years; she dreaded the thought.
"I'm going to the library," said Hermione, promptly.
Harry and Ron paused in their conversation and just stared at Hermione in a flabberghasted fashion.
"The library is closed, Hermione," enunciated Harry, his words purposely slow. "It's past curfew, remember?"
"That's right," she nodded. "That's why I'll need your invisibility cloak, Harry."
She was astoundingly sure that this was the funniest reaction that she had ever gotten from her two boys. Harry was gaping like a fish out of water, and Ron was looking back and forth between Harry and Hermione, his index finger pointing at her limply. He opened his mouth to say something, but then decidedly closed it; he looked confunded.
"That's...," started Ron, his face suddenly turning red, " - that's funny, 'Mione!"
He was suddenly wrapping his arm around his waist; he was chortling loudly, and his face colour was suddenly matching his hair. His knees had sunk down onto the red and gold carpet, and his back was now pressed against the couch; he had laughed so hard that he had slid to floor. And Harry was just staring at her in astonishment, and he was shooting Ron amused looks every so often. It took several minutes for Hermione to actively loose all of her patience. She huffed impatiently and placed her hands on her hips and raised both of her eyebrows; she meant business and Ron instantly stopped laughing.
"Cor, Hermione," gaped Ron, finally realizing she meant business. He glanced over at Harry. "I think she's actually bein' serious, mate."
"You are correct, Ron," huffed Hermione. "I am being quite serious. Now if you can give me the cloak and stop wasting my precious time -"
"But why the library? You finally want'a sneak out and its to go to the sodding library!"
"I need a book."
"Obviously," piped Ron, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You ain' gonna go there to do your homework, are you?"
Harry swiftly interrupted the impending argument. "Can you two pipe down? And give me a second, I'm gonna go fetch the cloak and then we'll leave."
"We?" Hermione's brows were furrowed and her tone was laced with skepticism.
Harry just ignored her irritation as he quickly trapsied towards the stairs; Ron was still looking at her as if she had grown an extra appendage. She just crossed her arms and sighed as she waited for Harry to return, and she pointedly ignored Ron's inquisitive stares that were unsubtly aimed in her direction. She just hoped that he wouldn't ask questions.
For some odd reason, she really didn't want Harry and Ron to know that she was intending to read a book that concerned Veela. The secretive part of herself wanted to keep the two of them in the dark in regards to anything concerning Fleur and her friendship with her; her knowledge of Fleur, to be more precise. She felt as if this were her secret to keep; as trustworthy as the two of her friends were - disregarding their prat moments, of course - and had always been, she just knew that Fleur would not want anyone to be privy to certain aspects of her race and herself. It partially made Hermione pause and question herself to the fact that Fleur didn't even seem to want her to know certain things about her. But this is when Hermione viewed curiosity and the hunger for knowledge the worst of her traits; it had the ability to make or break the relationships in her life.
She heard Ron's impatient huff before she heard the rapid footsteps head over in their direction. Her chocolate curls bounced when she quickly turned her head and noticed Harry's small and excited form approaching the fireplace with the cloak tucked securely under his arm. He subtly inclined his head toward the portrait hole and they quickly followed his retreating form.
"Let's do this," grinned Harry, excitement covering his features and his green eyes bright with enthusiasm. He untied the cloak.
"You are a little too excited for my liking, Harry," intoned Hermione, her voice dry but her eyes alight with fondness.
Harry just nudged her gently and attempted - and failed the first time, spectacularly so - to wrap the cloak around their growing teenage figures. If anyone were to blame in this situation, it would most certainly be Ron; he was a good three inches on the both of them - Harry and Hermione were practically the same height - and the cloak only went mid-calf on him.
"If you could be any taller, Ron, tha'd be great," growled Harry.
" 'Tis not my fault, Harry," mocked Ron. "Im'a growing teenage boy, unlike you two trolls."
"Will you two just be quiet," she groaned, attempting to pull Ron's shoulders down so that he was bent. "And Ron, trolls are actually very fascinating creatures -"
"Yeah," he grouched, finally fitting into the perfect position. "So is the giant squid."
Hermione just shook her head exasperatedly. They had finally made it out of the portrait hole and were now walking down the fire-lit corridor; luckily everyone had the sense of intelligence to be completely silent as of this point. She just listened to their gentle breathing and their quietly progressing footsteps as they turned into a connecting hallway.
Ron was hunched over quite impressively - scowling all the while, she might add - and Harry was glancing alertedly into each and every crook of the dead silent corrider. Every so often he would glance down at the Marauder's Map - which she hadn't even realized he pulled out - and nodded to himself. Sometimes, he would glance up at her and would smile at her like a little boy, and her heart would fill with adoration and she couldn't help but smile back at her best friend; despite the obvious mutiny at hand, a part of her loved seeing Harry like this. The adventuristic qualities in him is what had attracted her to be his friend in the first place.
His eyes suddenly widened when he glanced back down at the Marauder's Map.
"Moody," he whispered quietly, and he gestured his head at a statue that was in the middle of the hall.
Hermione and Ron nodded and they made their way quietly - albeit, very quickly - over to the statue; after several seconds of almost inaudible hisses, they finally managed their way behind it. They were breathing as quietly as the possibly could, and Hermione noticed that Ron was even covering his mouth with his hand.
Her heart was thudding loudly in her ribcage, and the pure adrenaline that had been present at the Black Lake was now coursing in her veins. She looked over toward Harry, and somehow she knew that he was feeling the same; they could get in a reasonable amount of trouble, but they were in the moment and it was a tad bit exciting. And this feeling grew bigger and bigger as the sound of Moody's wooden leg drew closer to the three students in hiding. She unconsciously froze when Moody appeared in the left corner of her vision; and she felt like a complete stiff as he progressed until he was directly straight in front of the statue.
Harry was holding the Marauder's Map in an absolute death grip - it was still open, revealing Moody's dot directly in front of their three - and he was meeting Ron's eyes every few seconds.
But Hermione nearly shrieked, very nearly shrieked, when a sudden cry had enveloped the corrider. Her entire body nearly hit the wall when she reared back in shock, and Harry and Ron's eyes grew impossibly wide when a few strangled groans erupted from in front of them; it was obviously coming from Moody.
She managed to glance at her two coherts, who looked reasonably confused themselves. She shakily tried to maneuver her body around the side of the statue to view what was occuring; she ended up having to nudge Harry - who was directly next to her - and Ron in order to avoid the cloak falling off of her. She kept her mouth clamped shut as she anxiously adjusted her body to the side of the statue. Her body went to completely rigid, and complete horror enveloped her body as she watched the thrashing form of Moody on the ground. Her heart was nearly in overdrive and her palms were shaky as his form twisted on the ground; he looked like a vicious snake, his body twirling and shaping and transforming into something. She found herself looking over at Harry and Ron desperately.
"We have to help him," she whispered quietly, her lips barely moving. It was rather unecessary after hearing the loud sounds of anguish that escaped their professor.
Harry's arm gripped hers tightly, and he shook his head quickly. He then motioned his head back towards Moody and that was when Hermione froze.
Moody's shoulder-length, stringy hair was shrinking. And his scarred face was moving rapidly; it was bubbling and transforming and the teeth in his mouth were whitening and becoming perfectly aligned. The wooden leg was was pushing itself out in an almost gruesome fashion, like an extra appendage was growing. And his body was twisting and curling and shrinking; it was becoming lean and taller.
Hermione, Harry, and Ron watched in indescribable horror as the body arched and the bones made rather harsh snapping sounds.
That was when Hermione noticed the infamous silver flask. Moody's - if that was who he even was - hand was grasping at it desperately, and when he got ahold of it he twisted the cap. He growled desperately as he began drinking greedily from the flask, his still morphing face contorting in absolute disgust as he drank the vile liquid. She watched as he transformed once more; his hair grew out once more, his wooden leg had been pulled back in with a resounding pop, and his body regained that slightly shorter and rounder physique.
She nearly choked on her own spittle when the man - after spending several moments panting on the ground - got back to his feet and continued on, luckily not glancing back.
Harry was suddenly tugging at her elbow insistantly, and she turned to meet his frowning face; he was pointing at the Marauder's Map.
Barty Crouch Jr.
Hermione frowned heavily as she glanced up into her friend's confused gazes. She looked back down at the map.
Alastor Moody.
Clearly, the book on Veela would have to wait until tomorrow.
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Yes? Still going strong?