Disclaimer: Dee dee doo, I'm not you-know-who.
Chapter Completed: 23 June 2009
Chapter Word Count: 1353
Story Word Count: 2416
Chapter Two: Polka Dot Underwear & Peach Cobbler
As Dumbledore finished healing the comatose Slytherin, Hermione plopped herself upon a navy blue armchair and he sat atop an identical one across from her.
"Will he be alright, sir?" she inquired, eyebrows furrowed. She was a compassionate person, and even though he made her want to slap him like she had in their third year, she hoped for his well being.
The headmaster sighed and glanced towards her, "Alas, young Mr. Malfoy's been exposed to quite a few dark curses and most likely a few potions as well. I'll have Severus and Poppy take a look at him."
Taking the non-verbal cue to change topics, Hermione asked, "How are you going to get him to Hogwarts? I mean, obviously you can't side-apparate, not in his condition. He must be nearly six feet and that's a tad too tall to fit through the floo. A portkey, then?"
Dumbledore chuckled at the bright girl drew his hand. He waved it about a bit and muttered several words—none of which Hermione could catch—and pointed to her front door. She watched perplexedly as it began to take on a strange green glow; it was floo green, in fact.
"Ah, well I must be leaving now. I'm sad to say the visit couldn't have been on pleasanter terms." The wizened wizard then stood, brushing invisible lint off his bunny pyjamas, and levitating Draco.
"Ms. Granger, the door please."
"Oh! Right..." Hermione quickly shuffled to the door and opened it. Surprisingly enough—or unsurprisingly depending on who you ask—on the other side of the threshold was not her front lawn, but Hogwarts infirmary.
She watched as her arch-rival-ish was then levitated through and set upon an infirmary bed. The wizard to defeat Grindelwald following, a fluffy bunny tail on his backside.
Dumbledore stepped through the doorway and closed it. "Goodnight, Ms. Granger."
The Gryffindor waved as he closed the door, boggled at the events of the night. Thank goodness her parents were visiting relatives for the weekend. After all, it'd be rather hard to explain a half-dead classmate, a doorway leading somewhere it should not, and the headmaster in bunny pyjamas.
As the adrenaline rush wore off, Hermione ambled up the stairs, promptly collapsing atop her bed. That night, or rather what was left of it, she dreamt not of hands she could never reach, but of gray bunnies playing with white zombie ferrets.
Two weeks had passed since that odd night, and although it still troubled her mind, Hermione had set the Malfoy incident to the back burners of her mind. Currently, she focused on the Weasley entourage besides her. The Hogwarts Express stood before them in all it's fine glory. Fred, George, Molly, and Arthur were seeing them off to another year at Hogwarts. She smiled fondly as Mrs. Weasley fussed over her children, Harry and herself included.
"Ginny, did you remember your—?"
"In the trunk."
"What about you Ron? Your cauldron?"
"Yes, Mum."
"Your robes?"
"Yes, Mum."
"Toothbrush?"
"Yes, Mum."
"Ronald Weasley! Don't you dare roll your eyes at me young man!" Fred and George guffawed as their little brother was scolded by the Weasley matriarch. She could be quite scary at times.
"Hermione, did you remember—" Molly sighed, remembering who she was speaking to. "Why, of course you did. You always double check everything on that list of yours."
Ron snickered at Hermione's OCD qualities; Harry, on the other hand, knew better.
She scoffed. "Says he who forgot his underwear last year."
It was Harry's turn to snicker as Ron's face turned stop light red, recalling last year's misfortune. It had been on the first day of classes, when halfway through breakfast, the family owl swooped in and ceremoniously dropped a package with a letter attached upon his bacon. He opened the letter, unaware that it had been charmed to read aloud. The entire school then heard of the story of his forgotten "undies". Oh, the embarrassment.
Fred and George glanced at each other mischievously and grinned, after all, they were the ones to charm the letter. Ah, their seventh year had been great. Well, sans the evil Umbridge lady and all that nonsense.
The Hogwarts Express whistled signalling the train's departure in 9¾ minutes. It was common belief that the whistle signified a ten minute warning, but our resident Gryffindor bookworm knew better. After all, it was in Hogwarts: A History.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley bid the children goodbye as they boarded the train, promises to write being passed on. Fred and George surreptitiously handed each of them a small square package, no bigger than a ring box.
When Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione found an empty compartment, they stowed their luggage and examined the parcels given to them. Harry's was wrapped in paper with little snitches all over and a little tag saying: 'These snitches are not edible.' Inside lay the latest snacks in their Skiving Snackboxes line and a package of gummy Dark Marks. Harry smiled at the twins' humour.
Ron's, of course, had pictures of underwear, his own polka dot ones and the note read: 'We charmed the letter.' Nested within, were a trick wand and several edible slugs. For the second time that day, Ron's face became a fiery colour, though the cause was anger instead.
Ginny's had little quaffles and upon her paper, 'Stay away from Corner boys,' was scrawled. Dwelling there was one of the boys' latest creations: Pretty Perfume for the Picky Witch—Repels the Bad Ones, Enchants the Good. She snorted at her brothers' oddities and their intense dislike for her former boyfriend.
Hermione's was packaged in newspaper, the scribble stating: 'An article about the harmful effects of over studying.' Perched in the box were a speciality quill enchanted to take notes and a bundle of hot pink candies. One of WWW's best-selling products, the little tablets were Patented Daydream Charms. Hermione grimaced at the boys' intent. Really now, she couldn't deviate from her school work too much.
After they examined one another's gifts, they quickly fell into an amiable conversation about their summer as the Hogwarts Express carried them to their sixth—though in Ginny's case, fifth—year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"These lot sure are midgets," Ron casually observed.
"Oh, be quiet Ron. You weren't quite the giant in our first year." Hermione pointed out.
Ron frowned. "Well, I don't remember ever being that short."
"Nope, you were shorter," Harry grinned. "Hermione was taller than you that year."
Scowling Ron muttered some unintelligible words and returned to his food. Hermione giggled at Ron's childish qualities. Honestly, some things would never change; Ron was one of those. Oh, now don't misunderstand. Ron had matured over the years, but in a....slow way. His emotional range had travelled from that of a teaspoon to that of a cup! Quite amazing actually. She had held a torch for the youngest male Weasley for quite some time, but during the summer she had realized that she couldn't wait for him forever. Because no matter how greatly she desired for their unresolved tension to be resolved, the fact still stood that she was leaps and bounds ahead of him in maturity. It was quite calming when she had that particular epiphany.
As Ron continued attacking the pudding with relish and Harry ate his own in a docile manner, Hermione's gaze wandered to the Slytherin table. She quickly scanned for the familiar platinum hair. He wasn't there.
Oddly disappointed not to see the pale person, she glanced at the choices around her. Strawberry cheesecake, several flavours of ice cream, cookies of all sorts, German chocolate cake, she couldn't find her love! Pouting, Hermione continued her ardent search for her favourite dessert. She happily squealed in her mind as she spotted the peach cobbler. Taking a piece and a scoop of vanilla ice cream to compliment the baked and gooey treat, she dug in. She was happily chewing away, unaware of the events in the infirmary.
A/N: FRIGGADER! I already had wrote half of this chapter several hours earlier and had to leave for lessons. Being the idiot I was, I didn't save my progress. The results, you ask? I have rewrite the whole damned thing. What a poo-poo face. Oh, by the way, for all intents and purposes of the story, Sirius never died during their fifth year. He's much alive and kicking it in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. So Harry's whole emo phrase will never appear in my story. OotP Harry was really annoying. Ah, well, I hope you noted that this chapter was around 300 words longer! So as a thanks to me, you should....Review! c: