1 Disclaimer: I own no previously established and published characters,
settings, or situations of J. K. Rowling's brilliant Harry Potter series.
I own only the rats and their gang that I have created, the plot, Nudanor
Goroth (pronounced Noo-DAY-ner, Guh-ROTH, like chicken broth.), and Natalie
Anduina (pronounced Natalie-you know that one, I hope- Anne-dew-EENA).
Don't ask me why I spell them differently than they are pronounced, but
they're mine and I can do what I want. Oh, man, just read the story!
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4 Chapter Seven: The Team
Harry stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. In. Out. In. Out. He sighed deeply. These past two weeks in the infirmary had been dull and dreary. If only he could get out of bed, walk around, help Hermione decipher the rat's riddle, or even join Ron in making fun of her for being so determined to do so, it would be some relief to his aching joints and troubled head. However, Madame Pomfrey would not let him out of the refuge of his clean, stiff bed. He didn't dare attempt anything either; for once he felt as weak as Madame Pomfrey claimed he was.
Returning to full life force and function was proving much more difficult than Harry had originally thought. Dumbledore had faithfully visited the hospital wing every night, and one night he felt that Harry deserved to know exactly what had happened to him. Dumbeldore believed that the rats had gained more magic and power than they had ever had before. The spell that had entangled Harry in its foul clutches was beyond any fifth year student's knowledge and ability. Yes, even Hermione was uninformed as to its existence and workings. The rats had used a Mental Entrapping Curse on Harry's mind, forcing it to separate from his physical being and effectively holding it captive to their evil wills. It was the fourth, not widely known or used Unforgivable Curse. Not even Voldemort had mastered the technique well enough to use it without great risk.
As if the Mental Entrapping Curse weren't difficult enough, and did not require enough mental and physical strength and magical capabilities to cast and maintain, it took an even more powerful being to enter the mind chamber of the victim. The curse created a sort of virtual world, something that was not there. And yet, there. To Harry's mind, it was all too real, but to anyone else, it seemed a mere dream. But they hadn't felt the pain, the panic, the suppressing darkness of the black void that had been Harry's prison for almost a week. He would swear upon his Firebolt that his hands had closed around that bottle of serum; his tears running down his haggard face were wet as the lake outside on the school grounds.
In. Out. In. Out. This was getting altogether ridiculous. He, Harry Potter, the Boy Wonder, The Boy Who Lived, was lying in a hospital bed concentrating on his mere BREATHING, struggling to regain normal physical function after surviving an evil curse. At least he knew now that it had not been a simple potions accident that had caused the fight for his life that had come so close to resulting in his death.
In. Out. In. Out. Harry, of course, blamed himself for the capture of Neville. Poor Neville. He never saw it coming. He was the perfect target, nearly helpless and easily frightened into shock. All the smoke caused by the explosion of Harry's cauldron had made it so easy for the rats, and whatever creatures they had enlisted to aide them, to slip in, grab Neville with a quick curse, and slip out. Perhaps they even had Neville under a similar Mental Entrapping Curse, who knew? The fact that they had been there to catch Harry and Neville proved that they were everywhere, hidden sinister eyes watching everything that went on in the castle. Although it had been two weeks since the message informing the school of the siege, Harry knew they were there. The school was growing restless, and they did not understand why they couldn't just go home now. But Harry knew, Harry knew. Luckily, Dumbledore knew as well.
In. Out. In. Out. Ron and Hermione had come so quickly and urgently to his hospital bed that night. They had heard the message, and they knew Harry would never forgive them for leaving him out. All the clues. They made no sense. No sense at all. All Hermione ever did these days was lock herself in her dormitory or curl up on the couch in front of the common room fire, wracking her brain as to who these people could possibly be. Sometimes she'd pull up a chair next to Harry's bed and do the same. Harry missed the days when Ron and Hermione used to come together more than once every day, and they all had fun together (well, as much fun as Harry could have, lying in a hospital bed with sheets so white they positively shined pulled up to his chin, and his body trembling with effort if he even tried to sit up by himself). But Hermione was completely zoned out, and so worried that black circles were starting to form under her troubled eyes. Harry couldn't bear to see her like this, and sent her to bed early every night with instructions to sleep when she came to see him in the evenings (the one time in the day Ron came with her). But he knew she didn't sleep, and he worried. Something like this could happen to her if she didn't rest. He promised himself he'd take that approach next time he talked to her.
In. Out. In. Out. Harry sighed deeply. What had happened to his perfect life? Voldemort had shown no signs of returning, Ron and Hermione seemed to finally be getting along with no bumps in the road (Harry had thought that this may be the year they'd finally get together), he was doing wonderfully in his classes and liked them all, too. The Dursleys had even lightened up a bit, fearing the new glint in Harry's eyes, he new skills he had mastered (and he hadn't seen the need to inform them that the same rules applied to these new skills as the old magic "tricks"), and above all, the fear of the murderous Sirius still loomed over the household.
In. Out. In. Out. It was gone. All gone. Shattered by the scratching, scrabbling, rough pink paw of a rodent so loathsome Harry had to struggle to keep himself in his bed rather than leaping out to go find the rats. It was gone. Blown away by the winds of despair and danger. Gone.
In. Out. In. Out.
Hermione whipped up another mug of coffee, rich and warm as anything her mother had managed with water and store-bought grounds. She lifted it to her mouth and took a deep drought. It warmed her insides pleasantly, and gave her tired brain a surprising jolt. Her eyes snapped open once more, and she pored over the message for the literal billionth time. She didn't know what to make of it. She just didn't.
Well, that wasn't the complete truth. Though she had decided early on that she wouldn't tell anyone anything until she was absolutely sure of the entire message, she had at least gotten somewhere. She knew who the friend of the boy in yellow was. That had been the easiest clue to decipher. However, the strong one was giving her problems. She hadn't even begun to think about the clever, unlikely member. And she knew one other.
She didn't believe it. It couldn't be true. She wouldn't let it be true. She just wouldn't think about it tonight. So there, evil, stinking rats. Take that! "HAHAHAHAHAHA DON'T KNOW WHAT TO MAKE OF THAT ONE, NOW DO YA?!" she cackled in the dim light from the dying fire.
Ron slipped down the stairs from the fifth year boy's dormitory just in time to catch Hermione's crazed, teasing comment. He knew instantly who she was "talking to." It had been the only thing her brain had been capable of concentrating fully on for three weeks. He didn't know how she managed full marks on all her schoolwork still, but he knew that schoolwork had ceased to require her entire brain capacity, no matter how much she denied it.
Ron approached her, coughing loudly so as not to startle her by a surprise appearance. She swiveled around and took in the sight. A tall boy, muscular and erect, handsome and kind, with flaming red hair to top it all off, coming near her with a look of concern in his eyes. That dang look of concern. Why did it haunt her so much these days?! Harry had it, Ron had it, Parvati and Lavender had it, Professor McGonagall had it, Professor Dumbledore had it. They all had it when they looked at her, weary and muttering, often delirious. Why couldn't she get away from it?!
Ron's concern deepened as Hermione began muttering something about a look haunting her. What was she talking about? She obviously needed sleep, and badly. He was going to make sure she got it tonight.
"You're right, Ron, it's time to go visit Harry now. We'd better go or he'll wonder if a dragon has eaten us. You know how upset he gets when we can't make it, and he gets so bored in that forsaken hospital wing," Hermione sighed, reluctant to leave her thoughts.
Ron didn't mention that it was midnight, and they had already been to see Harry that night. In fact, the sickly black-haired Boy Wonder would undoubtedly be asleep by now, exhausted from his evening stretches that Madame Pomfrey forced him to do. "Can't let those muscles grow too stiff! Though your bones and body aren't ready for you yet, you'll need those muscles soon, and what good will they be to you if you can't move them?" she always said with great enthusiasm. Though she felt there was absolutely no disadvantage to them, Ron knew that they were painful and tiring to Harry, so weak that sitting up by himself was strenuous activity.
"Hermione, I know Harry loves us to visit, but really, this is getting ridiculous. You haven't slept in what must be three days straight. And if you don't stop drinking this confounded Buttercoffee, you'll die of overdose, I'm sure! Now, I remember Harry telling me he was worried about you not getting enough sleep, and he told me to make sure you slept at least once a week. The end of the week is here, and I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind not seeing you tonight if it meant you'd be getting some much needed and well deserved rest," Ron said gently and quietly.
"No, Ron, no. I can't sleep. I have to figure this out, everyone needs me to so much," Hermione muttered, squinting down at the filthy, crumpled, stained parchment copy of the message sitting in her lap. It had eluded her keen mind long enough, she was going to figure this out tonight!
Ron suddenly came to life, snatching the parchment out of Hermione's lap. "Hermione whatever your middle name is Granger, I'm confiscating this until YOU get sleep! I have a right to as stated in the, uh, the, um, well, the Ron Has Power To Do Anything He Wants Concerning The People He Loves law passed, uh, RIGHT NOW!" he stated officially and with a wave of his wand (always stashed down his sock or someplace like that), the parchment disappeared in a puff of smoke.
"RONALD WEASLEY, IF ANYTHING'S HAPPENED TO THAT PARCHMENT, AND KNOWING YOUR HISTORY WITH WANDWORK I'M SURE IT HAS, I'M GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE AND HAND YOU OVER TO DUMBLEDORE HIMSELF!" Hermione screeched in vain.
As Hermione's tired efforts at screaming at Ron died in inaudible splutters, Ron sat down gingerly next to Hermione. "Hermione," he spoke soothingly. "No one expects you to figure this out. The whole staff is on it, and if they can't do it, no one can. And I assure you, the most important thing is the well being of every student in this school. That means that we need to do our best against the rats, but it also means that we need to take care of ourselves, or we can't possibly do our best. Herm, sweetie, you need some sleep," he continued as he placed a hand on either of Hermione's shoulders and began to rub all the knots out of her tense muscles.
"But, but, but Ron, I," Hermione began halfheartedly. She was actually beginning to fall asleep right here with Ron talking and acting so quietly and gently like that. Why couldn't he see she was trying to do something here? She needed to concentrate, to stay focused. Sleep was the last thing on her list, and she wasn't nearly there yet.
"No buts. Come on, Herm, I need you to sleep," he whispered, and gently pulled her head down onto his broad shoulder. He stroked her hair, which didn't seem so frizzy after all, and whispered a soft lullaby into her ear. She snuggled against his warm, safe body, repositioning herself against his chest to get more comfortable. Within minutes, she was fast asleep against Ron.
Ron smiled down at the beautiful angel asleep on his shoulder. How could he ever have spoken harsh words about and to her? How could he ever have thought this amazing creature was annoying, a know-it-all, a nuisance? Ok, so she WAS a know-it-all, but in the BEST sense, of course. He wanted nothing more than to just keep his arms wrapped around her, keep her close for as long as possible, but he knew he couldn't. The best place for her was her room, and the best place for him was his. That way, they'd both sleep as comfortably and as much as they needed to.
Ron reluctantly shifted himself until he was kneeling before Hermione, and ever so gently, as if she were glass, lifted her from the soft couch. Cradling her like a small child, her head against his shoulder once more (and indeed she was much smaller than he was, after his summer growth spurt) he walked ever so carefully and gently up the carpeted stairs to fifth year girl's dormitory. He freed one hand and knocked softly on the door. No answer. It being 12:30 AM, he suspected all the girls were asleep. Cracking the door open and peeking in carefully, he confirmed his suspicions.
Slipping through the door, cautious so as not to bump Hermione against anything, he made his way to the only empty bed in the dormitory. The thick, warm covers were already pulled back, as if everything had been made ready to receive the slumbering angel. He laid her gently in her bed, and pulled the covers up to her chin, tucking her in tightly and protectively.
"Goodnight, Hermione Know-It-All Granger. Have dreams as sweet as you are." And with that, he leaned over and kissed her pale cheek softly.
He made his way to the door, and was gone.
Hermione was completely unaware of these happenings, though her dreams conveyed something of the sort. Visions of a certain redheaded fifteen- year-old Gryffindor boy floated through her exhausted head. Echoes of "Herm, sweetie," and "the Ron Has Power To Do Anything He Wants Concerning The People He Loves law" were rebounding through the canyons of sleep.
Hermione, sitting beside Ron at the Gryffindor table a few mornings later, was amazed to discover how much BETTER she felt. After Ron's very *convincing* argument, she realized that sleep was the best thing for her. She had been getting much more of it lately, a great pressure having lifted off her shoulders, and she felt as if she never wanted to see another mug of Buttercoffee as long as she lived.
Poking her fork into her nearly empty plate of fruit and toast, she sighed contentedly. She knew the rats were still a threat, but she had just relaxed, and things seemed much better. She hadn't really looked at the message since that fateful night, and it barely entered her thoughts. Everyone suspected she had simply forgotten about the rats altogether. She set her fork next to her plate with a soft clink, and looked into Ron's face. He was still eating without showing signs of stopping. 'Boys,' she sighed inwardly. She had not been surprised at all when Madame Pomfrey had informed her that Harry's appetite was quickly returning, and since he had been eating more, his strength was also increasing.
Sensing her intense gaze, Ron looked up, chewing a bite of bacon. He looked from side to side, and then back to Hermione. "Everything all right, Hermione?" he asked uncomfortably.
AGH, he had called her Hermione again! Where had the "Herm" gone? She had really liked it. He had been doing that lately. Acting totally different than he had that night. If she hadn't known that she had fallen asleep on the couch downstairs, and ended up in her bed upstairs, she would never believe it had actually happened. He was acting so DIFFERENT. It was like nothing had occurred between them out of the ordinary.
'Well,' she thought in an attempt at carelessness. 'That just means he was being a good friend, nothing more.' Realizing that Ron was still waiting for an answer, that dratted look of concern creeping back into his eyes, she quickly replied.
"Oh, yes, fine, everything's just fine!" she nearly shouted falsely. After a moment longer of staring into her eyes, searching for the truth (and Hermione sweating with the effort of keeping the lie out of her eyes and at the same time about to faint from the undivided attention) Ron shrugged and returned to his breakfast, nothing hindering his hunger.
Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. He reached into his robes and pulled out an old, beaten looking scroll. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and she involuntarily clutched Ron's arm. She knew what was coming. She had seen in before. Several times before. And she had come to dread it even more than bad marks.
"Students," Dumbledore called for attention. "I stand before you once more to announce that we have received another message from the rats. But first of all, it has come to my attention that a few of you are becoming careless. Carelessness leads to injury, and by no means shall I tolerate unnecessary injury at my school. The rats have lain seemingly dormant for a few weeks now, and some of you believe the threat has completely passed. Let this be a warning to you that until the game is over, they will not leave. Now, on to the message. I think you'll find this one important, so listen closely." Dumbledore cleared his throat one last time, and began.
"Dormant, you think we are?
We laugh at your idiocy!
We will never be so stupid and careless,
Nor will we ever have such pity, you see.
To get our delightful game moving again,
We communicate this time here
To let you know who we've chosen.
The true beginning is quite near!
We know that one among you has spent many a long hour
Thinking, guessing, rethinking, and reguessing
The clever clues we had previously dropped,
But with these matters none of you fools should be messing.
We will know reveal the chosen handful
Here it comes, the select few.
From all kinds of people we've selected the team,
Red, yellow, green, and blue.
The first, the strength, the oldest as well.
Not quite young as the rest, but ever eager.
Oliver Wood, the old Quiddith lion
He has proved himself to be never meager.
The next, the friend of yellow
The dark-haired beauty still mourning.
Co Chang shall replace her fallen love,
Though blue she is officially adorning.
Skipping on to one unhinted,
The third comes as a surprise to no one.
Harry Potter, the old scar face, The Boy Who Lived
Though he now lies weak and alone.
A fourth to balance the colors and add malice,
Throwing green into the mush pot.
Draco Malfoy shall join the rest.
We trust his slippery resourcefulness won't let him be easily caught.
The lions are found the bravest opponents,
Therefore as a fifth we add another.
Shadows removed, Ronald Weasley is chosen.
His flaming hair not the only thing making him stand out as a unique other.
There seems to be a lack of an overly clever member.
Therefore as the sixth we add she who managed the most part to clear our words.
Hermione Granger we've had our eye on since the beginning,
She'll prove the true nature of so-called nerds.
An unknown seventh identity must be chosen
To complete the Hogwarts rainbow.
Nudanor Goroth of the badger mark
Will have his own seeds of glory to sew.
The team is growing quite large, but we cannot stop,
One more member, the eighth we add to attempt our game.
Natalie Anduina will also represent the winged.
Perhaps she'll be the one to bring them fame.
Now you know who we deem worthy,
Of these people we expect great things.
Pity, really, they all have to vanish and one must die,
But our chief's heart with joy at the beginning now sings!
A meeting of the team is now in order,
Everyone keep his or her eyes and ears now peeled.
We'll make the first move, of course,
And then the fate of all shall be sealed!"
Here Dumbledore halted. The message was read; there were no more words. Tears were running down Cho Chang's face, tears of memories and fear. Natalie had approached her and kneeled by her chair, and the Ravenclaws were now contemplating their future. Poor Nudanor, already suffering leaving his faraway homelands for this new school in his third year was now dreading being the youngest member of the team. Draco, foul person that he usually was, was simply smirking amid the pats on the back and encouragements from his fellow Slytherins. Ron was glaring at his empty plate, his eyes full of surprise and disbelief. Hermione gaped at Dumbledore, completely frozen.
Ron, yes, yes she had suspected Ron. The shadows (resulting from his friendship with the famous Harry Potter), the red hair, they had all pointed to him. And she hadn't wanted to believe it. But no wonder she hadn't been able to guess the strong member. Oliver Wood had graduated two years ago! There must be some mistake. Harry was expected to be a member, though no clue regarding him had been dropped. Cho, yes, Cho was Cedric's "close friend." Though she was a Ravenclaw and not a Hufflepuff, she was the closest person to him, and she therefore took his place. Draco was chosen because he was a twit, and the overall leader of Slytherin. The others were most likely chosen to balance the ages, abilities, and Houses of the team. But, Hermione Granger? HERMIONE?! She, Hermione had been chosen. She, Hermione, was the "clever" one the rats had spoken of. She, Hermione had been as obvious as Harry in their eyes. But why?
She forcefully unlocked her eyes from Dumbledore. She refocused them with great effort on Ron, who was still staring at his plate, as though willing it to shatter and in doing so, shatter this horrible nightmare. "Ron," she whispered.
He looked up at her with the same effort she had previously exerted in looking elsewhere herself. His eyes betrayed his fear, and for once he didn't seem to be the brave, safe, secure tower rising against the darkness he had been earlier. He shrank from the task, a whimpering, scared puppy. And Hermione couldn't do anything for him. She was as frightened herself.
Hermione reached out for the flame headed teenager, and managed to grasp his trembling arm. She squeezed his arm comfortingly. She managed a small, sad smile. "Well, Ron Hothead, I guess we'll finally both be in on the action this time, too."
Ron looked down at her, though it seemed that she had grown taller and braver than he. He nodded slowly. Suddenly, his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped against Hermione, completely blacked out.
A/N: Yep, I got it out. I finally got it out. I had family over for Christmas, and I didn't have much time to write more than the sixth chapter. Ok, ok, I know the whole Hermione, Ron, and Harry together in the fight plot is completely unoriginal, but one thing led to another, and I couldn't leave any of them out! I actually contemplated excluding Harry from the team. But then what would the use of the Mind Entrapping Curse and the whole potions fiasco be?! Yeah, that was my reasoning. So, why was Oliver Wood chosen to be on the team? You'll have to read and find out, won't you? Hehehe. (At least, I THINK I know why he was chosen. LoL.) So, I know one of you figured Ron out early on. Come on, flaming hair, brave heart shadowed? But didn't anyone get Hermione? Ok, ok, I'll have to admit, I had no idea who the "strong" one was going to be when I wrote that message from the rats, but it works out nicely, doesn't it? Now I just need to explain my loophole well enough to be believable. So, when I get back from the slopes (which, sadly, means no eighth chapter for a while), the real action begins! The team is chosen! What will happen next? Well, I'll be danged if I know, but I have a whole week to think about it. ;). I'm, sorry that I made an huge part of the chapter focus on Ron/Hermione (the "side effect"), but I just couldn't resist, and it's supposed to tide you over for an entire week, right? Right. Sooooo, that's enough rambling from this totally hooked author, I hope the few of you who actually read this faithfully didn't think I had abandoned you! Special thanks this time around go to fire-enchantment and Crystalite 104 (you'll have to wait to find out about Voldemort, that's one part of the plot I actually have planned!) who were the ONLY TWO to review this time. Thanks, guys! Ok, I'll be going now. (. Happy reading, writing, and a Happy New Year!
~*Mitie Mouse*~
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4 Chapter Seven: The Team
Harry stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. In. Out. In. Out. He sighed deeply. These past two weeks in the infirmary had been dull and dreary. If only he could get out of bed, walk around, help Hermione decipher the rat's riddle, or even join Ron in making fun of her for being so determined to do so, it would be some relief to his aching joints and troubled head. However, Madame Pomfrey would not let him out of the refuge of his clean, stiff bed. He didn't dare attempt anything either; for once he felt as weak as Madame Pomfrey claimed he was.
Returning to full life force and function was proving much more difficult than Harry had originally thought. Dumbledore had faithfully visited the hospital wing every night, and one night he felt that Harry deserved to know exactly what had happened to him. Dumbeldore believed that the rats had gained more magic and power than they had ever had before. The spell that had entangled Harry in its foul clutches was beyond any fifth year student's knowledge and ability. Yes, even Hermione was uninformed as to its existence and workings. The rats had used a Mental Entrapping Curse on Harry's mind, forcing it to separate from his physical being and effectively holding it captive to their evil wills. It was the fourth, not widely known or used Unforgivable Curse. Not even Voldemort had mastered the technique well enough to use it without great risk.
As if the Mental Entrapping Curse weren't difficult enough, and did not require enough mental and physical strength and magical capabilities to cast and maintain, it took an even more powerful being to enter the mind chamber of the victim. The curse created a sort of virtual world, something that was not there. And yet, there. To Harry's mind, it was all too real, but to anyone else, it seemed a mere dream. But they hadn't felt the pain, the panic, the suppressing darkness of the black void that had been Harry's prison for almost a week. He would swear upon his Firebolt that his hands had closed around that bottle of serum; his tears running down his haggard face were wet as the lake outside on the school grounds.
In. Out. In. Out. This was getting altogether ridiculous. He, Harry Potter, the Boy Wonder, The Boy Who Lived, was lying in a hospital bed concentrating on his mere BREATHING, struggling to regain normal physical function after surviving an evil curse. At least he knew now that it had not been a simple potions accident that had caused the fight for his life that had come so close to resulting in his death.
In. Out. In. Out. Harry, of course, blamed himself for the capture of Neville. Poor Neville. He never saw it coming. He was the perfect target, nearly helpless and easily frightened into shock. All the smoke caused by the explosion of Harry's cauldron had made it so easy for the rats, and whatever creatures they had enlisted to aide them, to slip in, grab Neville with a quick curse, and slip out. Perhaps they even had Neville under a similar Mental Entrapping Curse, who knew? The fact that they had been there to catch Harry and Neville proved that they were everywhere, hidden sinister eyes watching everything that went on in the castle. Although it had been two weeks since the message informing the school of the siege, Harry knew they were there. The school was growing restless, and they did not understand why they couldn't just go home now. But Harry knew, Harry knew. Luckily, Dumbledore knew as well.
In. Out. In. Out. Ron and Hermione had come so quickly and urgently to his hospital bed that night. They had heard the message, and they knew Harry would never forgive them for leaving him out. All the clues. They made no sense. No sense at all. All Hermione ever did these days was lock herself in her dormitory or curl up on the couch in front of the common room fire, wracking her brain as to who these people could possibly be. Sometimes she'd pull up a chair next to Harry's bed and do the same. Harry missed the days when Ron and Hermione used to come together more than once every day, and they all had fun together (well, as much fun as Harry could have, lying in a hospital bed with sheets so white they positively shined pulled up to his chin, and his body trembling with effort if he even tried to sit up by himself). But Hermione was completely zoned out, and so worried that black circles were starting to form under her troubled eyes. Harry couldn't bear to see her like this, and sent her to bed early every night with instructions to sleep when she came to see him in the evenings (the one time in the day Ron came with her). But he knew she didn't sleep, and he worried. Something like this could happen to her if she didn't rest. He promised himself he'd take that approach next time he talked to her.
In. Out. In. Out. Harry sighed deeply. What had happened to his perfect life? Voldemort had shown no signs of returning, Ron and Hermione seemed to finally be getting along with no bumps in the road (Harry had thought that this may be the year they'd finally get together), he was doing wonderfully in his classes and liked them all, too. The Dursleys had even lightened up a bit, fearing the new glint in Harry's eyes, he new skills he had mastered (and he hadn't seen the need to inform them that the same rules applied to these new skills as the old magic "tricks"), and above all, the fear of the murderous Sirius still loomed over the household.
In. Out. In. Out. It was gone. All gone. Shattered by the scratching, scrabbling, rough pink paw of a rodent so loathsome Harry had to struggle to keep himself in his bed rather than leaping out to go find the rats. It was gone. Blown away by the winds of despair and danger. Gone.
In. Out. In. Out.
Hermione whipped up another mug of coffee, rich and warm as anything her mother had managed with water and store-bought grounds. She lifted it to her mouth and took a deep drought. It warmed her insides pleasantly, and gave her tired brain a surprising jolt. Her eyes snapped open once more, and she pored over the message for the literal billionth time. She didn't know what to make of it. She just didn't.
Well, that wasn't the complete truth. Though she had decided early on that she wouldn't tell anyone anything until she was absolutely sure of the entire message, she had at least gotten somewhere. She knew who the friend of the boy in yellow was. That had been the easiest clue to decipher. However, the strong one was giving her problems. She hadn't even begun to think about the clever, unlikely member. And she knew one other.
She didn't believe it. It couldn't be true. She wouldn't let it be true. She just wouldn't think about it tonight. So there, evil, stinking rats. Take that! "HAHAHAHAHAHA DON'T KNOW WHAT TO MAKE OF THAT ONE, NOW DO YA?!" she cackled in the dim light from the dying fire.
Ron slipped down the stairs from the fifth year boy's dormitory just in time to catch Hermione's crazed, teasing comment. He knew instantly who she was "talking to." It had been the only thing her brain had been capable of concentrating fully on for three weeks. He didn't know how she managed full marks on all her schoolwork still, but he knew that schoolwork had ceased to require her entire brain capacity, no matter how much she denied it.
Ron approached her, coughing loudly so as not to startle her by a surprise appearance. She swiveled around and took in the sight. A tall boy, muscular and erect, handsome and kind, with flaming red hair to top it all off, coming near her with a look of concern in his eyes. That dang look of concern. Why did it haunt her so much these days?! Harry had it, Ron had it, Parvati and Lavender had it, Professor McGonagall had it, Professor Dumbledore had it. They all had it when they looked at her, weary and muttering, often delirious. Why couldn't she get away from it?!
Ron's concern deepened as Hermione began muttering something about a look haunting her. What was she talking about? She obviously needed sleep, and badly. He was going to make sure she got it tonight.
"You're right, Ron, it's time to go visit Harry now. We'd better go or he'll wonder if a dragon has eaten us. You know how upset he gets when we can't make it, and he gets so bored in that forsaken hospital wing," Hermione sighed, reluctant to leave her thoughts.
Ron didn't mention that it was midnight, and they had already been to see Harry that night. In fact, the sickly black-haired Boy Wonder would undoubtedly be asleep by now, exhausted from his evening stretches that Madame Pomfrey forced him to do. "Can't let those muscles grow too stiff! Though your bones and body aren't ready for you yet, you'll need those muscles soon, and what good will they be to you if you can't move them?" she always said with great enthusiasm. Though she felt there was absolutely no disadvantage to them, Ron knew that they were painful and tiring to Harry, so weak that sitting up by himself was strenuous activity.
"Hermione, I know Harry loves us to visit, but really, this is getting ridiculous. You haven't slept in what must be three days straight. And if you don't stop drinking this confounded Buttercoffee, you'll die of overdose, I'm sure! Now, I remember Harry telling me he was worried about you not getting enough sleep, and he told me to make sure you slept at least once a week. The end of the week is here, and I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind not seeing you tonight if it meant you'd be getting some much needed and well deserved rest," Ron said gently and quietly.
"No, Ron, no. I can't sleep. I have to figure this out, everyone needs me to so much," Hermione muttered, squinting down at the filthy, crumpled, stained parchment copy of the message sitting in her lap. It had eluded her keen mind long enough, she was going to figure this out tonight!
Ron suddenly came to life, snatching the parchment out of Hermione's lap. "Hermione whatever your middle name is Granger, I'm confiscating this until YOU get sleep! I have a right to as stated in the, uh, the, um, well, the Ron Has Power To Do Anything He Wants Concerning The People He Loves law passed, uh, RIGHT NOW!" he stated officially and with a wave of his wand (always stashed down his sock or someplace like that), the parchment disappeared in a puff of smoke.
"RONALD WEASLEY, IF ANYTHING'S HAPPENED TO THAT PARCHMENT, AND KNOWING YOUR HISTORY WITH WANDWORK I'M SURE IT HAS, I'M GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE AND HAND YOU OVER TO DUMBLEDORE HIMSELF!" Hermione screeched in vain.
As Hermione's tired efforts at screaming at Ron died in inaudible splutters, Ron sat down gingerly next to Hermione. "Hermione," he spoke soothingly. "No one expects you to figure this out. The whole staff is on it, and if they can't do it, no one can. And I assure you, the most important thing is the well being of every student in this school. That means that we need to do our best against the rats, but it also means that we need to take care of ourselves, or we can't possibly do our best. Herm, sweetie, you need some sleep," he continued as he placed a hand on either of Hermione's shoulders and began to rub all the knots out of her tense muscles.
"But, but, but Ron, I," Hermione began halfheartedly. She was actually beginning to fall asleep right here with Ron talking and acting so quietly and gently like that. Why couldn't he see she was trying to do something here? She needed to concentrate, to stay focused. Sleep was the last thing on her list, and she wasn't nearly there yet.
"No buts. Come on, Herm, I need you to sleep," he whispered, and gently pulled her head down onto his broad shoulder. He stroked her hair, which didn't seem so frizzy after all, and whispered a soft lullaby into her ear. She snuggled against his warm, safe body, repositioning herself against his chest to get more comfortable. Within minutes, she was fast asleep against Ron.
Ron smiled down at the beautiful angel asleep on his shoulder. How could he ever have spoken harsh words about and to her? How could he ever have thought this amazing creature was annoying, a know-it-all, a nuisance? Ok, so she WAS a know-it-all, but in the BEST sense, of course. He wanted nothing more than to just keep his arms wrapped around her, keep her close for as long as possible, but he knew he couldn't. The best place for her was her room, and the best place for him was his. That way, they'd both sleep as comfortably and as much as they needed to.
Ron reluctantly shifted himself until he was kneeling before Hermione, and ever so gently, as if she were glass, lifted her from the soft couch. Cradling her like a small child, her head against his shoulder once more (and indeed she was much smaller than he was, after his summer growth spurt) he walked ever so carefully and gently up the carpeted stairs to fifth year girl's dormitory. He freed one hand and knocked softly on the door. No answer. It being 12:30 AM, he suspected all the girls were asleep. Cracking the door open and peeking in carefully, he confirmed his suspicions.
Slipping through the door, cautious so as not to bump Hermione against anything, he made his way to the only empty bed in the dormitory. The thick, warm covers were already pulled back, as if everything had been made ready to receive the slumbering angel. He laid her gently in her bed, and pulled the covers up to her chin, tucking her in tightly and protectively.
"Goodnight, Hermione Know-It-All Granger. Have dreams as sweet as you are." And with that, he leaned over and kissed her pale cheek softly.
He made his way to the door, and was gone.
Hermione was completely unaware of these happenings, though her dreams conveyed something of the sort. Visions of a certain redheaded fifteen- year-old Gryffindor boy floated through her exhausted head. Echoes of "Herm, sweetie," and "the Ron Has Power To Do Anything He Wants Concerning The People He Loves law" were rebounding through the canyons of sleep.
Hermione, sitting beside Ron at the Gryffindor table a few mornings later, was amazed to discover how much BETTER she felt. After Ron's very *convincing* argument, she realized that sleep was the best thing for her. She had been getting much more of it lately, a great pressure having lifted off her shoulders, and she felt as if she never wanted to see another mug of Buttercoffee as long as she lived.
Poking her fork into her nearly empty plate of fruit and toast, she sighed contentedly. She knew the rats were still a threat, but she had just relaxed, and things seemed much better. She hadn't really looked at the message since that fateful night, and it barely entered her thoughts. Everyone suspected she had simply forgotten about the rats altogether. She set her fork next to her plate with a soft clink, and looked into Ron's face. He was still eating without showing signs of stopping. 'Boys,' she sighed inwardly. She had not been surprised at all when Madame Pomfrey had informed her that Harry's appetite was quickly returning, and since he had been eating more, his strength was also increasing.
Sensing her intense gaze, Ron looked up, chewing a bite of bacon. He looked from side to side, and then back to Hermione. "Everything all right, Hermione?" he asked uncomfortably.
AGH, he had called her Hermione again! Where had the "Herm" gone? She had really liked it. He had been doing that lately. Acting totally different than he had that night. If she hadn't known that she had fallen asleep on the couch downstairs, and ended up in her bed upstairs, she would never believe it had actually happened. He was acting so DIFFERENT. It was like nothing had occurred between them out of the ordinary.
'Well,' she thought in an attempt at carelessness. 'That just means he was being a good friend, nothing more.' Realizing that Ron was still waiting for an answer, that dratted look of concern creeping back into his eyes, she quickly replied.
"Oh, yes, fine, everything's just fine!" she nearly shouted falsely. After a moment longer of staring into her eyes, searching for the truth (and Hermione sweating with the effort of keeping the lie out of her eyes and at the same time about to faint from the undivided attention) Ron shrugged and returned to his breakfast, nothing hindering his hunger.
Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. He reached into his robes and pulled out an old, beaten looking scroll. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and she involuntarily clutched Ron's arm. She knew what was coming. She had seen in before. Several times before. And she had come to dread it even more than bad marks.
"Students," Dumbledore called for attention. "I stand before you once more to announce that we have received another message from the rats. But first of all, it has come to my attention that a few of you are becoming careless. Carelessness leads to injury, and by no means shall I tolerate unnecessary injury at my school. The rats have lain seemingly dormant for a few weeks now, and some of you believe the threat has completely passed. Let this be a warning to you that until the game is over, they will not leave. Now, on to the message. I think you'll find this one important, so listen closely." Dumbledore cleared his throat one last time, and began.
"Dormant, you think we are?
We laugh at your idiocy!
We will never be so stupid and careless,
Nor will we ever have such pity, you see.
To get our delightful game moving again,
We communicate this time here
To let you know who we've chosen.
The true beginning is quite near!
We know that one among you has spent many a long hour
Thinking, guessing, rethinking, and reguessing
The clever clues we had previously dropped,
But with these matters none of you fools should be messing.
We will know reveal the chosen handful
Here it comes, the select few.
From all kinds of people we've selected the team,
Red, yellow, green, and blue.
The first, the strength, the oldest as well.
Not quite young as the rest, but ever eager.
Oliver Wood, the old Quiddith lion
He has proved himself to be never meager.
The next, the friend of yellow
The dark-haired beauty still mourning.
Co Chang shall replace her fallen love,
Though blue she is officially adorning.
Skipping on to one unhinted,
The third comes as a surprise to no one.
Harry Potter, the old scar face, The Boy Who Lived
Though he now lies weak and alone.
A fourth to balance the colors and add malice,
Throwing green into the mush pot.
Draco Malfoy shall join the rest.
We trust his slippery resourcefulness won't let him be easily caught.
The lions are found the bravest opponents,
Therefore as a fifth we add another.
Shadows removed, Ronald Weasley is chosen.
His flaming hair not the only thing making him stand out as a unique other.
There seems to be a lack of an overly clever member.
Therefore as the sixth we add she who managed the most part to clear our words.
Hermione Granger we've had our eye on since the beginning,
She'll prove the true nature of so-called nerds.
An unknown seventh identity must be chosen
To complete the Hogwarts rainbow.
Nudanor Goroth of the badger mark
Will have his own seeds of glory to sew.
The team is growing quite large, but we cannot stop,
One more member, the eighth we add to attempt our game.
Natalie Anduina will also represent the winged.
Perhaps she'll be the one to bring them fame.
Now you know who we deem worthy,
Of these people we expect great things.
Pity, really, they all have to vanish and one must die,
But our chief's heart with joy at the beginning now sings!
A meeting of the team is now in order,
Everyone keep his or her eyes and ears now peeled.
We'll make the first move, of course,
And then the fate of all shall be sealed!"
Here Dumbledore halted. The message was read; there were no more words. Tears were running down Cho Chang's face, tears of memories and fear. Natalie had approached her and kneeled by her chair, and the Ravenclaws were now contemplating their future. Poor Nudanor, already suffering leaving his faraway homelands for this new school in his third year was now dreading being the youngest member of the team. Draco, foul person that he usually was, was simply smirking amid the pats on the back and encouragements from his fellow Slytherins. Ron was glaring at his empty plate, his eyes full of surprise and disbelief. Hermione gaped at Dumbledore, completely frozen.
Ron, yes, yes she had suspected Ron. The shadows (resulting from his friendship with the famous Harry Potter), the red hair, they had all pointed to him. And she hadn't wanted to believe it. But no wonder she hadn't been able to guess the strong member. Oliver Wood had graduated two years ago! There must be some mistake. Harry was expected to be a member, though no clue regarding him had been dropped. Cho, yes, Cho was Cedric's "close friend." Though she was a Ravenclaw and not a Hufflepuff, she was the closest person to him, and she therefore took his place. Draco was chosen because he was a twit, and the overall leader of Slytherin. The others were most likely chosen to balance the ages, abilities, and Houses of the team. But, Hermione Granger? HERMIONE?! She, Hermione had been chosen. She, Hermione, was the "clever" one the rats had spoken of. She, Hermione had been as obvious as Harry in their eyes. But why?
She forcefully unlocked her eyes from Dumbledore. She refocused them with great effort on Ron, who was still staring at his plate, as though willing it to shatter and in doing so, shatter this horrible nightmare. "Ron," she whispered.
He looked up at her with the same effort she had previously exerted in looking elsewhere herself. His eyes betrayed his fear, and for once he didn't seem to be the brave, safe, secure tower rising against the darkness he had been earlier. He shrank from the task, a whimpering, scared puppy. And Hermione couldn't do anything for him. She was as frightened herself.
Hermione reached out for the flame headed teenager, and managed to grasp his trembling arm. She squeezed his arm comfortingly. She managed a small, sad smile. "Well, Ron Hothead, I guess we'll finally both be in on the action this time, too."
Ron looked down at her, though it seemed that she had grown taller and braver than he. He nodded slowly. Suddenly, his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped against Hermione, completely blacked out.
A/N: Yep, I got it out. I finally got it out. I had family over for Christmas, and I didn't have much time to write more than the sixth chapter. Ok, ok, I know the whole Hermione, Ron, and Harry together in the fight plot is completely unoriginal, but one thing led to another, and I couldn't leave any of them out! I actually contemplated excluding Harry from the team. But then what would the use of the Mind Entrapping Curse and the whole potions fiasco be?! Yeah, that was my reasoning. So, why was Oliver Wood chosen to be on the team? You'll have to read and find out, won't you? Hehehe. (At least, I THINK I know why he was chosen. LoL.) So, I know one of you figured Ron out early on. Come on, flaming hair, brave heart shadowed? But didn't anyone get Hermione? Ok, ok, I'll have to admit, I had no idea who the "strong" one was going to be when I wrote that message from the rats, but it works out nicely, doesn't it? Now I just need to explain my loophole well enough to be believable. So, when I get back from the slopes (which, sadly, means no eighth chapter for a while), the real action begins! The team is chosen! What will happen next? Well, I'll be danged if I know, but I have a whole week to think about it. ;). I'm, sorry that I made an huge part of the chapter focus on Ron/Hermione (the "side effect"), but I just couldn't resist, and it's supposed to tide you over for an entire week, right? Right. Sooooo, that's enough rambling from this totally hooked author, I hope the few of you who actually read this faithfully didn't think I had abandoned you! Special thanks this time around go to fire-enchantment and Crystalite 104 (you'll have to wait to find out about Voldemort, that's one part of the plot I actually have planned!) who were the ONLY TWO to review this time. Thanks, guys! Ok, I'll be going now. (. Happy reading, writing, and a Happy New Year!
~*Mitie Mouse*~
