( I feel obligated to say a little something to certain little someones -
P/R Goddess (aka Kigomae) - /laugh/ Yeah, long reviews rock. Everyone should take after your example. Just type meaningless stuff and then compliment me. And I'll try harder to write longer chapters. If I think I'm dragging I'll ignore it.
Hermione-Granger17 - /blush/ I try, as far as the slang thing. I think I went a little slang crazy in one chapter, and then decided not to be a nerd. I'm glad you like the story!
lalaluu - I deeply, deeply appreciate that you didn't just read the whole story through and review only on the last chapter. I agree, I was nervous about using he'd've, I might go back and change that. Other than that I enjoyed your comments and I look forward to hearing more from you!
And for everyone else who reviewed - peace, love, and donuts to you!
Anyway... once again, Communication, my dears, is, all together, Everything, and Nothing at All, in the same being.)
-/-
An odd thing happened in Transfiguration.
Having successfully transfigured her hedgehog into a Pegasito, a type of miniature Pegasus, roughly the same size as a healthy kitten, she watched lazily as it flapped it's little wings clumsily around the room. ((A little note - I made Pegasitos up. hehe. I thought they'd be cute.))As it went to play with Parvati's, she turned her attention on Harry and Ron, who were struggling with their own. Ron's hedgehog had turned shock white and every once in a while spread quill-covered wings in an attempt to lift itself off the table, spraying them all with the prickly little spears. Hermione had raised a protective shield around her, so they merely bounced off. Harry's hedgehog now looked like a Pegasito, but whenever anything came near it (like a flying quill, for example), it covered itself with it's wings and it's fur stood on end.
Thoroughly bored after the events of this morning, she looked for her little beast halfheartedly, wishing she were somewhere else. And not just anywhere else.... Unconsciously she smiled, thinking of this morning. Of course he hadn't meant it, why had she gotten so upset? Surely she had realized that he had to keep up appearances, as did she. Now that she thought back on it, she couldn't recall why she'd even started crying. It seemed so silly, sitting here in class, that she had burst into tears over something Draco had probably said to her face a couple times, that she almost started laughing.
'Of course,' she thought gravelly, her good mood sobered. 'That was before.' But before what, she didn't know. Before she'd given him the potion? Before she had kissed him? Before he had kissed her?
Savoring the memory, she shut her eyes, suddenly tired. She watched it as a film in her head, how he'd looked, framed by moonlight, hair falling around his face...
'Oh yeah,' she found herself thinking, mildly amused. 'His hair.' It was still sparkling when she had put her hand on his face, drew them closer....
And then she found she was no longer looking at his face, but her own. Her cheeks were red, hair disheveled, eyes wide and slightly wild. Startled, she opened her present eyes, and then forgot her earlier shock of seeing herself by a new sight.
She was no longer looking at the a room full of badly transfigured Pegasitos, bustling with activity and friendly chatter, but at a stuffy room full of dozing students, and a certain ghost teacher droning on at the front of the room. Although she knew she was in Professor McGonagall's room, it seemed she was also in Professor Binns'. She heard something, though not with her own ears, and she realized she'd been hearing it, only she hadn't noticed around the shock of being somewhere she wasn't.
It wasn't.... a noise, exactly. She couldn't describe it, even to herself. It was more like the voice that sometimes spoke her thoughts, not earthly and speaking half verbal and half visual. It was certainly similar to that voice, yes, but it wasn't her own. It was different, but familiar... she was sure she'd heard it before... She tried to tune out all the background noise to listen, but it was harder than she'd thought it would be. Struggle as she might, she heard only snippets and saw only flashes.
There was her face again, as she had seen in her earlier vision, except she noticed slight differences. Her facial features seemed more defined, feminine; her hair more than the unruly nest it normally looked - she caught the words 'soft ginger curls'; her lips, slightly parted, seemed fuller, more luscious. Throughout this depiction, she heard words like 'divine', 'celestial', and 'bewitching', among many flattering others. This was certainly not the Hermione Granger she saw when she looked into the mirror every day.
She followed this with growing awe and modesty. She would have never grouped herself among the pulchritudinous. Even as she mulled over what she was seeing, she felt a wave of panic from wherever they were coming from. She found herself shut out, and, for a moment, was in total darkness. Then she was back in her own body, still puzzled. But she was beginning to form an idea as to what had just happened.
--
Draco Malfoy sat up and looked around the classroom sharply. A few students stirred in their slumber, but no one paid him any attention.
He had been dozing himself, daydreaming, letting him mind wander... and, predictably, it had rested on Hermione. After a while, though, he had gotten the distinct paranoia that he wasn't the only one thinking his thoughts. That, though, was ridiculous. Ignoring the growing uneasiness, he recalled how she had looked that evening, the way the moonlight reflected off her skin, how clear her eyes were - and suddenly he knew he was not alone. He heard a thought that wasn't his - when had he even heard of the word 'pulchritudinous', much less used it? - and panicked, shutting his mind off, thinking as hard as he could about blockage, brick walls and shield spells.
After a couple seconds he was confident that he was indeed alone again inside his head. Settling back down into his seat, he again tuned out Binns to pursue his own thoughts. Chilled, he silently wondered if he were going insane. Hearing other voices in his head? But no, this voice he knew. He had heard it before.... earlier today. In Potions.... when he was trying to rake up the courage to talk to Hermione. Suddenly, he'd heard her speak, but it wasn't in her usual voice. It was ethereal, ringing, and not really a voice at all.
Whatever it was, it had called him adorable. That was one he'd never heard before.
Sure, he'd gotten compliments on his looks plenty, but somehow it was different, coming from her. It... meant more. He'd become flustered then, and confused, not knowing how he'd heard what he'd heard - for he'd been looking straight at her, admiring the shape of her face, and her lips hadn't moved. This time it was similar, but not the same. He hadn't merely heard her, he'd.... felt her. And it seemed she'd been able to hear his thoughts, too.
Still confused, he slumped farther in his seat. Whatever it was that was happening, nothing he could think of explained how, or why. He was still pondering this when class ended, catching him off guard. He trudged out of class sullenly, angry with himself for not being able to figure it out. He stewed like that until lunch, when someone finally noticed.
"Draco?" Pansy poked him with her fork. He turned to glare at her. His maliciousness didn't seem to get through to her, though.
"Are you ill?" she pressed shrilly. His lip curled the slightest bit.
"What makes you think I'm ill?" he snapped at her. She just blinked.
"You haven't spoken to me all day," she pouted. Draco snorted.
"Tragedy," he muttered, well beyond caring if her feelings were hurt.
"Fine. But I'd be ill, too, if someone accused me of snogging a Mudblood," she said nastily, sniggering.
Draco turned on her.
"Don't call her that!" he snarled viciously, unaware of what he was saying. As soon as the words had passed his lips, though, he was struck with horror. Pansy stared at him, wide eyed, a look of shock and confusion on her pasty face. A few other Slytherins were looking at him curiously, only having caught his last words, and not what Pansy had been talking about before them. After a moment of stunned silence, Pansy opened her mouth to speak. Before she could say anything, however, Draco grabbed her arm and yanked her face close to his.
"If you tell anyone what just happened," he hissed into her ear, "I will make sure you regret it. And you know what I'm capable of." He released her and she jerked back, rubbing her arm. She was looking at him with confusion and disgust, but also with fear. She did, in fact, know what he was capable of. And it didn't paint a pretty picture for her. Potter might be able to defend himself, but Pansy doodled in most of her classes, not bothering to pay attention.
With a last warning glare, Draco got up to leave. As soon as he was out of the Great Hall he slumped against the wall and rested his forehead in one hand.
What in the world just happened?
He was lucky that Pansy was the only one who had heard him. And he knew she couldn't be kept quiet for long - the girl had an almost unbelievable addiction to gossip. He knew his threat would delay her, though. She'd seen him perform enough magic to know that he was no easy opponent.
Sighing, he got up and brushed off his robes. What now? There was still plenty of time until his next class - he hadn't eaten anything, his outburst having happened before he could put some food down. His feet started to move almost of their own accord, taking him outside. He shoved his hands in his pockets and admired the day.
--
Hermione didn't know if she was anticipating Care of Magical Creatures with dread or excitement. It hadn't taken her long to figure out, roughly, what had happened, and she was even pretty sure she knew what had caused it.
The potion.
Of course, as she'd been making it, she'd realized that there might be some side effects, but this was one that hadn't occurred to her. It being a love potion, she supposed it made sense that it might forge a bond between them stronger than physical laws. It was magic, after all. She thought about all this in detail, careful not to dwell on what she had actually experienced. She didn't want her heart to flutter painfully like that, thinking about how he saw her. She didn't want the lingering, bittersweet confusion she'd felt in him when he thought about her. She didn't want to tell herself that her own feelings were being compromised, didn't want to reveal to herself that she was turning this into more than an experiment to settle some unspoken score with Harry and Ron.
Much more.
She resigned herself to chatter cheerfully with the rest of the Gryffindors as they walked the grounds to Hagrid's hut, keeping only a half mind on the conversation. They were now talking about Gryffindors upcoming match with Slytherin, and Hermione found herself thinking, with dry amusement at her disloyalty, whether she'd rather cheer for Draco.
She realized they'd paused in their conversation and were looking at her expectantly, as though someone had just asked her a question. She blinked, embarrassed.
"Say that again?" she asked politely, as though she'd simply not heard it.
"I said, who are you planning on going to the Halloween Ball with?" Parvati Patil asked cheerfully. Hermione felt blood rush to her cheeks despite herself. She couldn't think of an answer. The girls in their group giggled.
"Ooh, Hermione's got a secret crush!" Parvati teased in a singsong voice. She leaned in towards Hermione and lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Come on, tell us who he is,"
Hermione noticed Ron and Harry giving her odd looks and she shook her head and laughed.
"That's ridiculous, I don't have a secret crush! Besides, I don't know if I'm even going to the Ball, but I will if someone asks me," she added with an uncharacteristic wink to Parvati. She squealed with pleasure.
"Well, we'll have to make sure someone does!" And she and the rest of the girl started discussing who was the best looking and most eligible as Hermione separated herself from them to join Ron and Harry, who were still giving her odd looks.
"What?" she asked, uncomfortable. They were almost at Hagrid's, and she was resisting the urge to look for the head of a certain renewed blonde. She realized her cheeks were still slightly flushed.
"You don't really fancy anyone, do you?" asked Ron suspiciously.
"Oh, of course not!" Hermione answered, rolling her eyes. That didn't seem to convince them.
"You'd tell us if you did, though, right? So we could...." he paused, and exchanged a brief look with Harry. "... Know who he is." he finished lamely. Hermione rolled her eyes again, this time meaning it. Honestly, as if they were her older brothers, having to look out for her.
"If I did indeed have a 'secret crush'," she said, adding emphasis to the word to make it seem all the more ridiculous, "you would be the first to know. Now stop pestering me about it, class is about to start." And that shut them up.
Honestly, treating her like she couldn't look after herself. Secret crush. What nonsense. Although... they did have the right idea, though undoubtedly they thought she meant one of the sweaty-palmed, tousle-haired Quidditch stars the other girls pined after. ((A little note - That was not a reference to Harry, BTW. It might have been to James, though.../ponderponder/)) But they could never imagine whom she herself pined after.... Once the rest of the class was immersed in Hagrid's speech about chimeras, she risked taking a look around.
No good. He wasn't on her left. She snuck a glance in the other direction, towards the forest. It took a moment for her eyes to scan the tops of her classmates' heads until they located the one she was looking for - soft, silvery-blonde, partially hidden by the heads of other students, and flanked by two drooling baboons.
Goyle, indeed, had a little spittle running down his chin.
She wrinkled her nose, disgusted. How someone so fair could be framed by those...unworthy, stupid, bumbling... she blinked in surprise to find herself thinking such vicious thoughts. Normally she would have dismissed them with the slightly disgusted regard in which she usually treated them, but she felt an anger rise in her, that they should get to stand so near to him. They were so undeserving. She felt about ready to march over there and demand that the leave his presence immediately, but held herself back with shock. She was usually quite compassionate with other people, not at all as vehement with her anger as she had been. Even now, she realized she'd been snappish for the past few days. It left her uneasy, but she decided to ignore it. It was just nerves, that's all. Still surprised by this new train of thought, she turned her attention back on Hagrid.
She'd have to save her musing for another time, when she wasn't surrounded by gossips that were convinced she was hiding some boy in her closet.
If only they knew.
-/-
(Gonna cut it off there. I'm already past curfew. And I missed Detective Conan to write the ending of this chapter, so be grateful.
Raise your hand if you figured out what had happened between Draco and Hermione before she figured it out herself! Donuts to you!
I stumbled across the word pulchritudinous, and I love it. It means, roughly, beautiful, or classified by extreme physical beauty. Leave it up to Hermione to think in 15-letter words.
Anyway, I figure I can milk out more reviews by making shorter, but quicker chapter. /evil laugh/ Love me. Although I like to think this chapter was sufficiently long.
Also, it surprised me that, as I was rereading this chapter, that every time I typed 'Parvati', I actually spelled it 'Parvatil'. I have no recollection of doing so and I have no idea why, but that's what happened. Just thought I'd share, it seemed weird to me.
Review, please, whether constructive or babble!)
P/R Goddess (aka Kigomae) - /laugh/ Yeah, long reviews rock. Everyone should take after your example. Just type meaningless stuff and then compliment me. And I'll try harder to write longer chapters. If I think I'm dragging I'll ignore it.
Hermione-Granger17 - /blush/ I try, as far as the slang thing. I think I went a little slang crazy in one chapter, and then decided not to be a nerd. I'm glad you like the story!
lalaluu - I deeply, deeply appreciate that you didn't just read the whole story through and review only on the last chapter. I agree, I was nervous about using he'd've, I might go back and change that. Other than that I enjoyed your comments and I look forward to hearing more from you!
And for everyone else who reviewed - peace, love, and donuts to you!
Anyway... once again, Communication, my dears, is, all together, Everything, and Nothing at All, in the same being.)
-/-
An odd thing happened in Transfiguration.
Having successfully transfigured her hedgehog into a Pegasito, a type of miniature Pegasus, roughly the same size as a healthy kitten, she watched lazily as it flapped it's little wings clumsily around the room. ((A little note - I made Pegasitos up. hehe. I thought they'd be cute.))As it went to play with Parvati's, she turned her attention on Harry and Ron, who were struggling with their own. Ron's hedgehog had turned shock white and every once in a while spread quill-covered wings in an attempt to lift itself off the table, spraying them all with the prickly little spears. Hermione had raised a protective shield around her, so they merely bounced off. Harry's hedgehog now looked like a Pegasito, but whenever anything came near it (like a flying quill, for example), it covered itself with it's wings and it's fur stood on end.
Thoroughly bored after the events of this morning, she looked for her little beast halfheartedly, wishing she were somewhere else. And not just anywhere else.... Unconsciously she smiled, thinking of this morning. Of course he hadn't meant it, why had she gotten so upset? Surely she had realized that he had to keep up appearances, as did she. Now that she thought back on it, she couldn't recall why she'd even started crying. It seemed so silly, sitting here in class, that she had burst into tears over something Draco had probably said to her face a couple times, that she almost started laughing.
'Of course,' she thought gravelly, her good mood sobered. 'That was before.' But before what, she didn't know. Before she'd given him the potion? Before she had kissed him? Before he had kissed her?
Savoring the memory, she shut her eyes, suddenly tired. She watched it as a film in her head, how he'd looked, framed by moonlight, hair falling around his face...
'Oh yeah,' she found herself thinking, mildly amused. 'His hair.' It was still sparkling when she had put her hand on his face, drew them closer....
And then she found she was no longer looking at his face, but her own. Her cheeks were red, hair disheveled, eyes wide and slightly wild. Startled, she opened her present eyes, and then forgot her earlier shock of seeing herself by a new sight.
She was no longer looking at the a room full of badly transfigured Pegasitos, bustling with activity and friendly chatter, but at a stuffy room full of dozing students, and a certain ghost teacher droning on at the front of the room. Although she knew she was in Professor McGonagall's room, it seemed she was also in Professor Binns'. She heard something, though not with her own ears, and she realized she'd been hearing it, only she hadn't noticed around the shock of being somewhere she wasn't.
It wasn't.... a noise, exactly. She couldn't describe it, even to herself. It was more like the voice that sometimes spoke her thoughts, not earthly and speaking half verbal and half visual. It was certainly similar to that voice, yes, but it wasn't her own. It was different, but familiar... she was sure she'd heard it before... She tried to tune out all the background noise to listen, but it was harder than she'd thought it would be. Struggle as she might, she heard only snippets and saw only flashes.
There was her face again, as she had seen in her earlier vision, except she noticed slight differences. Her facial features seemed more defined, feminine; her hair more than the unruly nest it normally looked - she caught the words 'soft ginger curls'; her lips, slightly parted, seemed fuller, more luscious. Throughout this depiction, she heard words like 'divine', 'celestial', and 'bewitching', among many flattering others. This was certainly not the Hermione Granger she saw when she looked into the mirror every day.
She followed this with growing awe and modesty. She would have never grouped herself among the pulchritudinous. Even as she mulled over what she was seeing, she felt a wave of panic from wherever they were coming from. She found herself shut out, and, for a moment, was in total darkness. Then she was back in her own body, still puzzled. But she was beginning to form an idea as to what had just happened.
--
Draco Malfoy sat up and looked around the classroom sharply. A few students stirred in their slumber, but no one paid him any attention.
He had been dozing himself, daydreaming, letting him mind wander... and, predictably, it had rested on Hermione. After a while, though, he had gotten the distinct paranoia that he wasn't the only one thinking his thoughts. That, though, was ridiculous. Ignoring the growing uneasiness, he recalled how she had looked that evening, the way the moonlight reflected off her skin, how clear her eyes were - and suddenly he knew he was not alone. He heard a thought that wasn't his - when had he even heard of the word 'pulchritudinous', much less used it? - and panicked, shutting his mind off, thinking as hard as he could about blockage, brick walls and shield spells.
After a couple seconds he was confident that he was indeed alone again inside his head. Settling back down into his seat, he again tuned out Binns to pursue his own thoughts. Chilled, he silently wondered if he were going insane. Hearing other voices in his head? But no, this voice he knew. He had heard it before.... earlier today. In Potions.... when he was trying to rake up the courage to talk to Hermione. Suddenly, he'd heard her speak, but it wasn't in her usual voice. It was ethereal, ringing, and not really a voice at all.
Whatever it was, it had called him adorable. That was one he'd never heard before.
Sure, he'd gotten compliments on his looks plenty, but somehow it was different, coming from her. It... meant more. He'd become flustered then, and confused, not knowing how he'd heard what he'd heard - for he'd been looking straight at her, admiring the shape of her face, and her lips hadn't moved. This time it was similar, but not the same. He hadn't merely heard her, he'd.... felt her. And it seemed she'd been able to hear his thoughts, too.
Still confused, he slumped farther in his seat. Whatever it was that was happening, nothing he could think of explained how, or why. He was still pondering this when class ended, catching him off guard. He trudged out of class sullenly, angry with himself for not being able to figure it out. He stewed like that until lunch, when someone finally noticed.
"Draco?" Pansy poked him with her fork. He turned to glare at her. His maliciousness didn't seem to get through to her, though.
"Are you ill?" she pressed shrilly. His lip curled the slightest bit.
"What makes you think I'm ill?" he snapped at her. She just blinked.
"You haven't spoken to me all day," she pouted. Draco snorted.
"Tragedy," he muttered, well beyond caring if her feelings were hurt.
"Fine. But I'd be ill, too, if someone accused me of snogging a Mudblood," she said nastily, sniggering.
Draco turned on her.
"Don't call her that!" he snarled viciously, unaware of what he was saying. As soon as the words had passed his lips, though, he was struck with horror. Pansy stared at him, wide eyed, a look of shock and confusion on her pasty face. A few other Slytherins were looking at him curiously, only having caught his last words, and not what Pansy had been talking about before them. After a moment of stunned silence, Pansy opened her mouth to speak. Before she could say anything, however, Draco grabbed her arm and yanked her face close to his.
"If you tell anyone what just happened," he hissed into her ear, "I will make sure you regret it. And you know what I'm capable of." He released her and she jerked back, rubbing her arm. She was looking at him with confusion and disgust, but also with fear. She did, in fact, know what he was capable of. And it didn't paint a pretty picture for her. Potter might be able to defend himself, but Pansy doodled in most of her classes, not bothering to pay attention.
With a last warning glare, Draco got up to leave. As soon as he was out of the Great Hall he slumped against the wall and rested his forehead in one hand.
What in the world just happened?
He was lucky that Pansy was the only one who had heard him. And he knew she couldn't be kept quiet for long - the girl had an almost unbelievable addiction to gossip. He knew his threat would delay her, though. She'd seen him perform enough magic to know that he was no easy opponent.
Sighing, he got up and brushed off his robes. What now? There was still plenty of time until his next class - he hadn't eaten anything, his outburst having happened before he could put some food down. His feet started to move almost of their own accord, taking him outside. He shoved his hands in his pockets and admired the day.
--
Hermione didn't know if she was anticipating Care of Magical Creatures with dread or excitement. It hadn't taken her long to figure out, roughly, what had happened, and she was even pretty sure she knew what had caused it.
The potion.
Of course, as she'd been making it, she'd realized that there might be some side effects, but this was one that hadn't occurred to her. It being a love potion, she supposed it made sense that it might forge a bond between them stronger than physical laws. It was magic, after all. She thought about all this in detail, careful not to dwell on what she had actually experienced. She didn't want her heart to flutter painfully like that, thinking about how he saw her. She didn't want the lingering, bittersweet confusion she'd felt in him when he thought about her. She didn't want to tell herself that her own feelings were being compromised, didn't want to reveal to herself that she was turning this into more than an experiment to settle some unspoken score with Harry and Ron.
Much more.
She resigned herself to chatter cheerfully with the rest of the Gryffindors as they walked the grounds to Hagrid's hut, keeping only a half mind on the conversation. They were now talking about Gryffindors upcoming match with Slytherin, and Hermione found herself thinking, with dry amusement at her disloyalty, whether she'd rather cheer for Draco.
She realized they'd paused in their conversation and were looking at her expectantly, as though someone had just asked her a question. She blinked, embarrassed.
"Say that again?" she asked politely, as though she'd simply not heard it.
"I said, who are you planning on going to the Halloween Ball with?" Parvati Patil asked cheerfully. Hermione felt blood rush to her cheeks despite herself. She couldn't think of an answer. The girls in their group giggled.
"Ooh, Hermione's got a secret crush!" Parvati teased in a singsong voice. She leaned in towards Hermione and lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Come on, tell us who he is,"
Hermione noticed Ron and Harry giving her odd looks and she shook her head and laughed.
"That's ridiculous, I don't have a secret crush! Besides, I don't know if I'm even going to the Ball, but I will if someone asks me," she added with an uncharacteristic wink to Parvati. She squealed with pleasure.
"Well, we'll have to make sure someone does!" And she and the rest of the girl started discussing who was the best looking and most eligible as Hermione separated herself from them to join Ron and Harry, who were still giving her odd looks.
"What?" she asked, uncomfortable. They were almost at Hagrid's, and she was resisting the urge to look for the head of a certain renewed blonde. She realized her cheeks were still slightly flushed.
"You don't really fancy anyone, do you?" asked Ron suspiciously.
"Oh, of course not!" Hermione answered, rolling her eyes. That didn't seem to convince them.
"You'd tell us if you did, though, right? So we could...." he paused, and exchanged a brief look with Harry. "... Know who he is." he finished lamely. Hermione rolled her eyes again, this time meaning it. Honestly, as if they were her older brothers, having to look out for her.
"If I did indeed have a 'secret crush'," she said, adding emphasis to the word to make it seem all the more ridiculous, "you would be the first to know. Now stop pestering me about it, class is about to start." And that shut them up.
Honestly, treating her like she couldn't look after herself. Secret crush. What nonsense. Although... they did have the right idea, though undoubtedly they thought she meant one of the sweaty-palmed, tousle-haired Quidditch stars the other girls pined after. ((A little note - That was not a reference to Harry, BTW. It might have been to James, though.../ponderponder/)) But they could never imagine whom she herself pined after.... Once the rest of the class was immersed in Hagrid's speech about chimeras, she risked taking a look around.
No good. He wasn't on her left. She snuck a glance in the other direction, towards the forest. It took a moment for her eyes to scan the tops of her classmates' heads until they located the one she was looking for - soft, silvery-blonde, partially hidden by the heads of other students, and flanked by two drooling baboons.
Goyle, indeed, had a little spittle running down his chin.
She wrinkled her nose, disgusted. How someone so fair could be framed by those...unworthy, stupid, bumbling... she blinked in surprise to find herself thinking such vicious thoughts. Normally she would have dismissed them with the slightly disgusted regard in which she usually treated them, but she felt an anger rise in her, that they should get to stand so near to him. They were so undeserving. She felt about ready to march over there and demand that the leave his presence immediately, but held herself back with shock. She was usually quite compassionate with other people, not at all as vehement with her anger as she had been. Even now, she realized she'd been snappish for the past few days. It left her uneasy, but she decided to ignore it. It was just nerves, that's all. Still surprised by this new train of thought, she turned her attention back on Hagrid.
She'd have to save her musing for another time, when she wasn't surrounded by gossips that were convinced she was hiding some boy in her closet.
If only they knew.
-/-
(Gonna cut it off there. I'm already past curfew. And I missed Detective Conan to write the ending of this chapter, so be grateful.
Raise your hand if you figured out what had happened between Draco and Hermione before she figured it out herself! Donuts to you!
I stumbled across the word pulchritudinous, and I love it. It means, roughly, beautiful, or classified by extreme physical beauty. Leave it up to Hermione to think in 15-letter words.
Anyway, I figure I can milk out more reviews by making shorter, but quicker chapter. /evil laugh/ Love me. Although I like to think this chapter was sufficiently long.
Also, it surprised me that, as I was rereading this chapter, that every time I typed 'Parvati', I actually spelled it 'Parvatil'. I have no recollection of doing so and I have no idea why, but that's what happened. Just thought I'd share, it seemed weird to me.
Review, please, whether constructive or babble!)
