zhere's an update for you, a rather long one, but the story is about to start picking up the pace. Therefore we have to start moving things along. Hogwarts is about to get a lot more interesting for Ron, he's learning a lot. I've moved some things around in Defense Against the Dark Arts, because it always made no sense to me how they had a duelling club in second year but didn't learn Stupefy until 5th...like what...so I've fixed that. But I'll keep you waiting no longer...
Five
"Let the games begin."-Unknown
Ron awoke before dawn the next morning. He didn't know how long he'd slept or remember any of the dreams he'd had. He reached for his journal and began to chronicle the latest of his visions. He didn't know what that thing that Harry's glasses in its mouth had was, but he was determined to find out.
Still, he'd only unraveled one of his visions and he had no idea what to make of what it actually meant. According to Duncan, the meaning of visions was apparently very significant to a wizard's life. Although he couldn't know what significance Hermione Granger was going to play in his life, unless she planned on being the thorn in his side for his entire time at Hogwarts.
She wasn't so bad, really. It was just that she was so annoying he found himself thinking of her irritating ways all the time. She had way a truly getting under his skin. He couldn't remember anyone nettling him so much, not even Fred and George who were professionals in that particular task.
As the sun rose over Hogwarts, Ron was eager. He knew he had to try and have as much fun as he could this week before Duncan returned from Finland and filled all his free time with lessons, lessons, and more lessons. As if there weren't going to be enough of those at a school.
Today he'd have his first flying lesson, then Charms and his first Potions and Herbology lessons. The next day was Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic (which all of his brother had warned him was extremely boring), and an Astronomy lessons at midnight. Wednesday would be Potions, flying and Charms again. Fridays at Hogwarts were dedicated to Private Study and Quidditch.
Duncan, when he'd seen Ron's lessons plans, had scoffed. He was not a fan of Astronomy, calling it pointless and useless to actual Seers.
Ron was excited about Astronomy classes only because it meant he got to stay up past midnight.
He didn't know what was coming his way, only that he was looking forward to it. And that he was scared. He watched the sunrise over the Black Lake and he hoped that this all hadn't been some kind of mistake, that whoever was calling the shots on these things knew what they were doing when they decided he was Gryffindor's Heir.
7th
"Harry, come on, we're going to be late," called Ron as he raced down the halls towards the flying field. Being late for the first class of the day was not the way he wanted his Hogwarts experience to begin.
Harry nodded furiously as they ran down the main hall out and onto the field.
He didn't know how they gotten so distracted after breakfast, but before either of them knew it was 8:25 and they only had five minutes to get to class.
The two raced and raced as fast as they could, nearly running right into Neville, as they did so.
"Where have you two been?" he asked.
"Wandering around," Ron said. "This castle's bloody huge."
"There's a map of the grounds in Hogwarts: A History," said Hermione who'd been standing next to Neville. "Sounds like the two of you could stand to give it a read."
"At least we're not late," said Harry, who was still trying to catch his breath.
"Oh of course not," came a rather snide voice. "It wouldn't serve a Seventh Son to be late for his first class."
Ron turned around to see the sneering Draco Malfoy. He remembered that the Gryffindors and the Slytherins had Flying, Potions, Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts together. Clearly, whoever had thought of that was a fan of brawls.
"Sod off, Malfoy," Ron said, rolling his eyes.
Malfoy, unfortunately wouldn't be so easily dissuaded. "I can't believe I have to take flying lessons. I've been flying on toy brooms for ages. This class should only be for mud—," Draco stopped when he saw Madam Hooch approaching. She was a retired Quidditch player who had a reputation of not suffering fools. Apparently, even Draco had been warned that she was not to be trifled with.
Ron was glad at least someone could shut him up.
"Good morning students," said Madam Hooch as she approached. Ron decided that he liked the tall, slender grey-haired and yellow-eyed woman immediately. There was something about her that he trusted and he was learning more and more to trust his instinct.
"Another fine bunch of first year flyers, I hope," Madam Hooch said as he looked them over. "Well, let's not waste time. Everyone, line up at once. Now as you know, first years are not permitted to ride their own brooms. However, once you have reached a certain skill level, you may obtain permission from your parents and Head of House to you use your own broom during lessons and Quidditch only. Which reminds me, both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are having Keeper tryouts. First years are forbidden from using brooms for recreational purposes at all times. Understood?"
Everyone nodded their assent. "Good! Now, I wonder which of you lot will be the first to break that rule. But that's a question for another day. Now, everyone stand to the right side of your broom, hold your right hand over it and yell 'Up!'"
Everyone did as they were told. Not surprisingly, Ron's broom leapt straight into his hand as did Harry's. Neville's had a little trouble with his at first, but soon had a solid grip on it.
Hermione, on the other hand, was absolutely the last Gryffindor to get her broom in hand and even then, it looked as if it wanted to veer off on its own.
Draco gripped his broom firmly with an air of decided arrogance. Ron remembered a toy broom race at a brunch at Sirius' home that Malfoy had won. Harry had nearly bested him, but the slimy git managed to pull ahead. As if he needed another reason to be a git.
Ron hadn't been allowed to participate as Molly was worried that he didn't have enough control as of yet. But those days were over. He had much more control and he vowed the only thing Malfoy would win was the constant view of Ron's backside.
"All right now that we've got our brooms in hand, let's mount. And then, we shall kick off and touch back down. This is the most basic of broom techniques and each of you must get a grasp on the basics."
This proved to be relatively easy for Ron, Harry and Neville as well as a bunch of the other pureblooded and halfblooded children. Hermione struggled the most out of everyone. It had taken her several attempts before she could land safely. Madam Hooch had been very helpful, but it was obvious that Hermione was very disappointed.
"This is why her lot shouldn't be allowed in," Malfoy whispered loudly to Goyle as Madam Hooch walked away to give some advice to Millicent Bulstrode, a Slytherin first year who had a little trouble as well.
"She can't even handle a broom properly," Draco continued with a sneer. Hermione had heard him and she turned bright red with embarrassment, while Ron flushed with rage.
"Fuck off, Malfoy," he said loudly. Too loudly.
"Language, Mr. Weasley," Madam Hooch said warningly. "Another outburst like that and it'll be five points from Gryffindor!"
Ron began to protest, but Harry nudged him in the ribs.
What do you do that for, asked Ron, as communicating telepathically with Harry had started to become second nature.
We can't lose points on the first day, Harry replied back. Can you imagine the grief we'd get?
Ron knew Harry was right and bit his tongue. But the snide smile on Malfoy's face was enough to make him almost not care how many points Gryffindor lost.
After flying class was over, Ron approached Hermione. "Listen, don't worry about Malfoy. He's a—,"
"I don't need you fighting my battles for me," Hermione interjected icily. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
Ron's jaw dropped and his ire rose. "I was trying to help!" he cried, outraged.
"Well, you did not! Now everyone in Gryffindor thinks I'm an awful flyer."
"Well, next time I'll just let Malfoy say whatever he wants, no matter how vile!"
"Fine with me!" Hermione retorted. "I've got nothing to prove to Malfoy or anyone else," she said though her voice was shaking and Ron thought she was going to cry. "I'm not the least interested in Broomology. So, it doesn't matter. It's got very little to do with the study of magic anyway. Most wizards never use them."
Ron scoffed. "Have it your way, then!" He stormed off, fuming and confused. He caught up with Harry and Neville. "She's absolutely mental! I've had nightmares more pleasant!"
Harry and Neville expressed their sympathy, but Ron got the feeling they were actually amused by the whole thing. As if Hermione sounding off on him every bloody chance she got was something to be laughed about. Gits.
"Well," Harry mused as he bit back a smile. "At least we know it's bound to be an interesting year at Hogwarts, with the two of you having screaming matches every day."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Come on, we're going to be late for Charms."
He turned around one last time to see Hermione standing alone near the brooms. He was trying to figure out what she was looking at when he suddenly heard her voice in his head and a sense of total dejection came over him.
I can't even get flying down. It's supposed to come naturally. What else won't I be able to get right?
Ron looked away quickly, shutting out her thoughts and feelings. He frowned, because if there was one thing he'd inherited from his mother, he hated to see people upset. Unless they were Slytherins. They could all rot in hell. But he realized that Hermione was more upset about not doing well. Something he understood.
His ire softened a little, not enough to want to say anything to her for the rest of the day. But perhaps, he'd say "good morning" the next.
They headed off to Charms class. This time they were with the Ravenclaws so they didn't have to deal with Malfoy and his cronies. Thank Merlin. Ron didn't know how much longer he could go without punching that git in the face.
The Charms professor, Professor Flitwick had long been a favorite of George and Fred and Ron had been looking forward to meeting him all day. He was a world-famous dueling champion and Duncan had called him one of the most competent hiring choices ever made at Hogwarts.
Considering how rarely Duncan gave compliments of any kind, Ron considered this to be very high praise indeed.
They got to Charms class and found that they were the first students to arrive. Professor Flitwick was already there, having a very animated conversation with Professor Snape. One that ceased immediately when they saw that the students began to enter.
Snape, who was only known to Harry, went instantly silent. He was good friends with Harry's mother, although neither Harry nor his father could understand why.
Apparently, they'd been neighbors when his mum was a kid. He even was friends with Aunt Petunia, which in Harry's mind, made perfect sense. According to Sirius, Snape was living proof that some childhood habits ought to be dispersed with.
"Mr. Potter, do me the honor of introducing me to your friends," said Snape in his usual long, languid voice.
Harry nodded. "Neville, Ron, this is Professor Snape. He's friends with my parents. I think you met him at a garden party once. Professor Snape, this is Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley."
Snape's eyes immediately fixed on Ron. "Charmed," was his only reply. He gave them another searching glance. "And are you enjoying your time at Hogwarts thus far?"
"Very much, sir," said Neville in a slight voice.
He smiled or at least, they thought he did. "Excellent. Fillius, I'll stop by your office after your class. Good day."
And with that, their Potions teacher left the room. Ron felt a fleeting wave of frustration as Snape passed him by, though he couldn't pick up any thoughts.
Professor Flitwick put on his best smile and greeted his new pupils warmly. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom and young Mr. Weasley. I'm delighted to meet you all. I was at Hogwarts with your parents, Mr. Longbottom and yours as well, Mr. Potter. And I've taught the last five Weasleys. Hopefully, you're less destructive than your twin brothers. Have a seat, all of you. Class will begin very, very soon. Since you're here, Mr. Potter why don't you pair up with Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Weasley, why don't you pair up with...Ms. Granger. There she is!"
Ron bit back a groan. There was Hermione, coming into class, just steps ahead of the rest of the crush. He didn't have time to protest, nor would he have dared.
Neville and Harry did their best not to laugh as Hermione settled in next to him, sullen and silent. Well, two could play that game.
Ron concentrated all his energy on pulling out his wand, smoothing and re-smoothing his robes and reading and re-reading the introduction pages of Quintessential Magic and roundly ignoring Miss Hermione Granger.
Hermione also said nothing but Ron thought he could feel something like embarrassment from her. His ire softened a little more at that, but to say he was thrilled about them being partners would've been taking it too far.
He could also sense Harry and Neville's amusement at his predicament which only served to irk him further.
But there was no time to think on any of that. Class was starting and Ron was eager to make a good impression. Seventh Sons were known to be highly proficient in Charmwork and Ron didn't want to be the weak link in that particular chain.
His lessons with Duncan had so far been mostly about control, keeping his power grounded. Now, he was eager to prove himself in the actual application of his magic.
What he didn't know was that the only person more eager to make a good impression was Hermione. She had read and reread Quintessential Magic twelve times since she'd purchased it in Diagon Alley.
She wasn't exactly happy about being partnered with Ron either. She hadn't meant to snap and she felt rather guilty, but still there was something about him that annoyed her to no end. Maybe it was the way everything seemed so effortless for him. She was trying her hardest and hated when things didn't come easy to her.
After all, being the smart one was all she had.
Still, he had been trying to be nice, and she knew she'd overreacted. She had just been frustrated about her flying. She had been so looking forward to it and her broom had barely came off the ground. She was frustrated with herself for not doing well in flying class and now she was angry with herself for overreacting with Ron.
Interacting with people with her people her own age was quite new to her. She figured she may just have to stick with teachers. So, she set her jaw in determination: she would make a good impression in Charm class.
Ron could sense her determination and rolled his eyes. He had a feeling it was going to be a long class.
Professor Flitwick called the class to order. "Attention first-years," he said with a smile. "Welcome to Charms. Charmwork is some of the most essential spellwork in a wizard's arsenal. Useful in defensive, creative, protective and inventive work, a good wizard will know their way around charms. A great wizard will master them. First and foremost, you must remember charms do not alter the subjects, they only affect them. Therefore, making a tea set dance is a charm, turning into a seashell is not. Today we will learn how to make objects fly, how to make them float and to make them sing. We will be using feathers for flying, teacups for floating and kettles for singing. You will find a feather, a teacup and a kettle in front of each of you. Now let's begin."
7th
"No, no, you're flourishing too much, Ronald, slow down," Hermione chided for the fifth time. His teacup was floating perfectly in the air, but apparently this wasn't perfect enough for Hermione.
"Hermione, it's in the air, isn't it?" he asked with a very vivid eyeroll.
"Well yes but hand positioning is quite important and you might not be able to hold it there if you don't hold your wand correctly."
Ron rolled his eyes. All three charms had come quite easily to him. The same could be said of Hermione. But she had managed to get the flying charm quicker than him and he was sure he would never hear the end of it. Not to mention she kept calling him "Ronald" which no one but his mother and grandmother ever did.
Once she was satisfied with his wandwork, she briefly pounced on Neville and Harry but thankfully Flitwick dismissed the class before she got her teeth too deep into them.
"That truly was a most invigorating class," Hermione said as she followed Harry and Ron out of the classroom with Neville bringing up the rear.
"I can't wait to practice those incantations Professor Flitwick gave us. I've read he's quite the accomplished duelist. I wonder when he'll show us defensive charms. I hope very soon. Oh, I've got to get to the library."
"The library?" Neville was surprised. "But Hermione, it's time for lunch." Harry stepped on Neville's foot.
"Oh, I'll eat later. I've just got to get some last-minute reading done before Potions! I'll see you later!"
As soon as Hermione was out of sight, all three breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Harry was aghast. "Have you ever, in your life, met someone so interfering?"
Ron nodded. "Yeah. My mum."
Harry shook his head "I think she's got Mrs. W beat, mate. Definitely."
"I don't mind her, much," Neville said with a shrug. He received glares from his two best friends in response.
"Well," he said practically. "It doesn't look like we're getting rid of her, might as well not stress about it."
Ron rolled eyes but he knew Neville had a point. "Come on, let's eat!"
Receiving no protests from Harry and Neville, they all scurried to the Great Hall. As they sat down to eat, Ron took a moment to take everything in.
All his life, he dreamt of this place, of coming to Hogwarts, of being in Gryffindor.
He found himself continually in awe of the grounds and the campus of Hogwarts castle itself. Everything seemed to breathe magic. It made him feel more in touch with his own, as if the magic of Hogwarts somehow fed into his.
As much as he loved the Burrow and his family's other estates, something told him that he would never feel more at home than he did at Hogwarts. It was in that castle tucked far away in the Scottish Highlands where he felt he truly belonged.
In his mind, lunch could never last enough especially with the delicious treacle tart that had been served on that particular morning. But eventually lunch did end and they were off to Potions Class.
They were heading down to the dungeons when a thought struck Harry. "We can't mess about in Potions. According to Uncle Remus, Professor Snape's always eager to take points away from Gryffindor. He's Head of Slytherin House, you know," he whispered quietly to Ron and Neville.
"Mum says he's best friends with Draco's dad," Neville said. "Apparently Draco's father is always at the Auror Office complaining about something."
Ron rolled his eyes "A Malfoy complaining about something? Hell of a surprise, that is."
Harry lowered his voice again. "Well apparently Professor Snape is extremely fond of all the Slytherins, always giving them extra points. Dad said if we have any trouble to let Remus know."
"What's Remus going to do?" Ron said lowering his voice as well.
Harry shrugged. "Beats me. But Dad doesn't like Professor Snape and Professor Snape doesn't like Dad and apparently neither does Sirius or Remus. Mum said it's a Quidditch rivalry that went bad."
They went mute on the subject as they approached the Dungeon where Potions class was held.
The majority of the Slytherins were already there, including Draco. He was sitting at a table in the front, flanked by his goons. The Gryffindors were filing in slowly and Ron quickly paired up with Harry to avoid being paired with Hermione again. Neville made his way next to Dean.
Ron had found out the night before that Dean's dad, Eric, was a scout for the Wimbourne Wasps, which had made Dean instantly popular though Wimbourne was far from anyone's favorite team. But Dean had met most of the famous Quidditch players for England and the rest of the Europe so he had interesting stories to tell. They'd been up half the night listening to him tell stories about the Irish National team's cheerleaders.
Hermione had ended up being paired with Lavender Brown, something that Ron could tell that she was not happy about.
For a few minutes there was a buzz of conversation about Quidditch but it all went silent when Professor Snape cleared his throat.
"Good afternoon, students. Welcome to Potions. Wands away in this class."
Ron had to admit Snape was scary. His brothers had told him so. He could also tell that he was nervous about something. Or maybe anxious? Ron was getting used to feeling the emotions of everyone around. Ron could tell that Hermione was eager to make a good impression. That didn't surprise him at all.
He wanted to make a good impression, but she was practically chomping at the bits to impress Snape. Maybe it was because he'd spent a significant time with as compared to the other new people he'd met, but he seemed to be able to read her emotions very, very clearly.
The only other person who was ever that clear to him was Harry, or maybe that was because Harry was the only person he tried to read as much.
But he couldn't focus on Hermione anymore, he had to focus on Potions.
7th
"Have you ever in your life met such an absolutely horrid person?" cried Hermione as they left Potions. By the end of the class, it was quite clear everyone in Gryffindor hated Professor Snape and the feeling seemed to be mutual.
"No," agreed Ron and Harry as they shook their heads, contemplating how much they hated their new teacher.
"He's right scary," said Neville with a shudder.
"He's foul," this from Harry, who now firmly agreed with his father and Sirius and didn't know how for the life of him his mother was friends with that GIT.
For once, all of them were in agreement: Snape was the worst. Their lesson had insisted of an introduction to Potions and then a simple sleeping draught. The recipe had been simple enough, but Duncan had told Ron that to be truly adept at potions one had to have a certain instinct.
He didn't know if he had quite developed that instinct. He'd followed the recipe closely and Snape had told him that it was "barely serviceable". but it was nothing compared to the scathing reviews he'd given Harry, Neville and Hermione. His critique had been backhanded at best. But he seemed ready to intimidate Neville, eager to nettle Hermione and absolutely determined to antagonize Harry.
He had less than kind words for all of the Gryffindors and nothing but praise for the Slytherins although Hermione was quite certain that some of their potions had been incorrect, if not abysmal.
By the end of the class, they all had rather choice words for him.
"Greasy haired fucker," Ron declared as they made their way back to the Gryffindor tower.
"Quite," Hermione agreed whole-heartedly.
After Herbology, which interested only Neville and Hermione, the day was over and Ron had a slew of letters to send to the Owlery: to Bill, his parents, Duncan (who had insisted on a complete rundown of his entire first week class by class), three of his uncles and all four of his grandparents and Ginny who, as always, wanted to know everything.
He was pretty sure the three Aurors that were following him everywhere were either reporting to the Minister or reporting to Duncan or reporting to his parents—possibly all three, so he didn't exactly know what his letters were supposed to tell them.
Harry, Neville and Dean were heading down to the Quidditch Pitch to watch the Gryffindors practice. Ron was set to join them as soon as he finished his letters.
Hermione, indicative of many days to come, was heading off to the library. She wished them a quick farewell.
"Mental," Ron whispered to Harry.
"You know, I don't think I've ever known anyone to aggravate you the way she does. Not even Ginny," Harry said with a shake of his head.
"Yeah well, Ginny has five other brothers to torture, I can sic her on them."
"Speaking of, Fred and George, they said we should get their early if we want to get good seats near the Pitch."
Neville nodded. "See you in a bit, Ron," he called out as he and Harry headed down to the pitch.
Ron raced up the stairs to finish his letter so he wouldn't miss the entire Quidditch practice. He took extra care in his letters to Bill, Ginny and Duncan. Bill, because he wanted to tell his big brother everything, Ginny, who wouldn't be satisfied unless she knew, and Duncan who would know if Ron was withholding anything.
He grabbed his letters and bounded the steps of his room and into the Common Room. As he entered, Hermione was coming through the door, returning from the library.
She colored as she saw him coming down the steps, and he could tell she wanted to say something.
"Ron," she said quickly before he could think of an escape route.
He stopped in his tracks. She looked somewhat nervous and Ron did his best to try and not read his thoughts. His mother had told him that it was impolite to try and read someone's thoughts when they were actually trying to tell you something.
"I...I just wanted to say I'm sorry for apologize for earlier...at flying class. I didn't mean to be so rude. I just didn't expect to be so rubbish at flying. And I found I didn't like it much."
Ron found his own cheeks heating up. "Oh, well don't sweat it," he said trying to sound cheery. "Flying's tricky. I've been doing since I was one. You'll get the hang of it."
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know if I will. It's bad enough I'm doing horrible in all my classes."
Ron's eyebrows rose. The only teacher who hadn't been impressed with Hermione was Professor Snape. Flitwick and Professor Sprout had been filled with praise. Hermione must have been remembering a different class.
"Hermione," Ron said somewhat confused. "It's only our first day. And Flitwick was really impressed with your charmwork. And Snape is a foul git. All my brothers told me so. And I can help you with your flying if you want."
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Really? Would you?"
Ron didn't know where that had come from. His plan had been to avoid Hermione, but she looked genuinely upset and he supposed he couldn't help himself.
"Sure," he replied knowing there was no way out now. "We can sneak out to the Pitch after Astronomy class tomorrow."
"Ron, that's against the rules!"
Ron rolled his eyes. "Do you want my help with flying?"
Hermione pondered this for a second. "Well, okay. But if we get caught, I'm denying everything."
Ron shrugged. "We won't get caught. I'm a pro at sneaking away from adults. Besides half of them will be asleep. And Harry will help, he's better at sneaking around than I am. And that's saying something."
Silence fell between the two of them after Hermione's hearty laugh. "I also," she began and he looked up at her again. "I wanted to thank you for yesterday. With Malfoy. I looked up what a "mudblood" means."
"You didn't," Ron said wincing. "Don't think on it. It's bullshit, Hermione. Some purebloods, especially Slytherins, are arsewipes. Plain and simple."
"They can't be all bad. But still, you didn't have to stick up for me like that. So, what do you say, friends?" she extended her hands.
Ron shrugged and shook her hand. Sure, she was annoying, but he was beginning to understand: she really, really wanted to do well. "Friends. I've got to get to the owlery and then down to practice. Do you want to come? The twins are on the team. Beaters.
Hermione smiled. "I'd love to have a sibling."
Ron scoffed. "Spoken like someone who doesn't have any."
"Are you going to try out, for Quidditch, I mean?"
Ron shrugged. "Maybe next year. First years never make the team and I have to focus on a lot of different things."
"But you want to?"
"Of course," Ron said with a grin. "Quidditch is the best. Once you've seen your first game, I'm sure you'll love it."
Hermione didn't look convinced and Ron didn't exactly know how to begin to explain Quidditch to someone who had never seen it. "Do you want to come and watch practice with us?"
"I've got more studying to do. Defense Against the Dark Arts is tomorrow."
"Hermione, you can't study all the time. Trust me, I know. When Duncan gets here, I know he's going to take up all my bloody time with lessons, so I'm trying to enjoy this week while I can. School is supposed to be fun, too."
Hermione blinked several times as if Ron had just spoken a foreign language. "School is supposed to be about learning and application and—,"
"Hermione, have you ever heard of 'fun'?" he asked with a grin.
"Studying is fun," Hermione countered.
"Speak for yourself."
"But you caught on so quickly today, you must study an awful lot."
Ron shifted his feet. "Well, I study a lot when I have to. But a lot kind of comes...naturally."
Hermione looked astonished.
"Not that I don't have to work on it," he added quickly. "Once Duncan gets here, I'm sure all my free time will be gone."
"What exactly does Duncan do?" Hermione was genuinely curious.
"He's my mentor. He's a Seventh Son too. He's supposed to help me figure things out."
"Figure what things out?"
Ron shrugged. "Beats me. Apparently, I have to figure them out first and then he'll help me. He's a mentor, not a map."
"Well, if he's a Seventh Son, shouldn't he be doing something? Like protecting something or..."
Ron shrugged. "He's from Finland. Apparently, they don't need his help there."
"Does...Britain need your help?" the question seemed to scared Hermione. It scared Ron as well.
"Not that anyone has told me. But I'm sure they will...eventually. If they decide I need to know."
"You keep saying 'they'. Who else do you mean?"
"Well, Duncan, Rufus Scrimengeour, probably Dumbledore, maybe the whole Bloody Wizengamot. Fuck if I know."
Ron hadn't meant to sound so frustrated, but talking to Hermione had made him realize how in the dark he was about on his own life. He had new powers popping up every day. Every time he closed his eyes, he could hear hundreds and hundred of voices, plus sense thousands and thousands of emotions that he could barely work through. They seemed to rush through in a single blink of an eye, not to mention there was that sinking feeling of something being very, very wrong that he couldn't seem to shake.
"I'd better go and mail these letters," he said after a pause. "You sure you don't want to watch practice with us?"
Hermione considered for a second. "Well, I suppose I can always study later. After all, how long could a Quidditch practice last?"
Ron nodded in agreement, but as they made their way out of the Gryffindor common room, he realized that Hermione had never met Oliver Wood.
For most witches and wizards, Quidditch was the sport of choice. To Oliver Maxwell Calum Wood, Quidditch was a religion.
He was in the same dorm as Percy though the two weren't the best of mates. Oliver's devotion was to Quidditch, and Percy's was to his studies. Beyond them both hailing from long Gryffindorian lineages, they had absolutely nothing in common.
Oliver got on rather well with Fred and George. Although, they weren't nearly as devoted as he was, he admired their savagery as Beaters. This was especially true when it came to beating the Slytherins.
After Ron and Hermione left the owlery, they headed straight for the Pitch and found practice in full gear. Harry and Neville waved them over.
"What did we miss?" Ron asked Neville.
Neville shrugged. "Nothing much, just a very impassioned speech from Oliver about this year is going to be Gryffindor's Year."
Ron shrugged. "Nothing groundbreaking, then." He'd heard a very humorous rendition of that speech from George over summer vacation.
Harry had a box of Bertie's Beans, which the four of them passed around eagerly as they watched the practice. Oliver, hungry for Quidditch after a semester away, was barking orders and plays in his usual overeager manner.
Hermione had to admit, though she hadn't the foggiest idea of what was going on, Quidditch was absolutely mesmerizing.
Their first day of Hogwarts was now behind them and a for a second, Ron almost imagined that they were nothing but four normal magical kids, excited for their first year of Hogwarts to begin.
Fred and George spotted Ron in the bleachers and threw him a very rude gesture, which he quickly returned.
"Stop messing about!" barked Wood. Three Weasleys rolled their eyes in response.
"That's Oliver Wood," Harry told Hermione. "He's the Captain. He's...enthusiastic."
"More like obsessed," Neville said with a shake of his head. "My dad says his uncle was just the same when they were here."
"Fred and George say they've never met anyone so intense."
They haven't met Hermione yet, Harry thought and Ron heard and bit back a chuckle. The ever presence of the Weasleys on the Gryffindor team meant that Ron had been attending matches since Bill had joined the Quidditch team in his third year.
But if any of them held the delusional notions that Wood would settle for a simple airing out to see what everyone needed to work on, they were sorely mistaken.
Oliver wanted to do more than stretch the team's legs. He wanted to sprint.
"Oi! Fred, that kind of flying is not going to stop the Slytherin Seeker! Angelina, it's a Quaffle, not a cauldron! Hold it like you mean it!"
After a good two hours of that, Fred and George were screaming bloody murder at Wood who was responding in kind.
"All right, all right," called Angelina Bell, a Chaser. "Enough for the night, yeah Ollie?"
"Fine with me," Oliver said, voice dripping with derision. "But you lot don't come crying to me if we get our arses whipped by Ravenclaw this year!"
"Motherfucker, if we stay out here any longer our arses will be too sore to sit, let alone ride a broom!" George retorted.
The stalemate threatened to disintegrate, but Angelina managed to call them all down before anything more than words could be thrown.
"Goodness," Hermione said as they began to leave the Pitch, sounding genuinely concerned. "Is Quidditch always so...intense?"
"Only doing the school year," said Harry drily. "Come on, let's get back in before we miss curfew. McGonagall will have our heads if we lose points for Gryffindor on our first day."
"Oh, please," said Fred as he came up behind them. "McGonnagall is almost as bad as Wood. She wants to reclaim that cup from the Slytherins, hell or high water. She said it's bad enough they won the House Cup last year but to be Quidditch Champions as well is almost too much."
Ron laughed at his brother, but he knew that these were serious stakes on the line. He wanted to do his part for the glory of his House, as any good Gryffindor would do.
As they made their way off the pitch, Ron heard his name. He looked back to the pitch but it was now empty. And there it was that again, the feeling in the pit of his stomach: something was wrong.
"Ron, come on," Harry called and he realized the group had begun to leave him behind.
That night, he had no visions, but sleep did not come easily. He tossed and turned, but he was unable to shake the feeling that of unease that overcame him.
The next morning everyone was eager to get to their first Defense Against the Dark Arts Class. Professor Remus Lupin who had been in the Aurors with James, Sirius and Frank, but had left to teach at Hogwarts.
Ron had been looking forward to this class his entire life. Defense Against The Dark Arts. As a Seventh Son, fighting Dark Wizards only seemed natural. After all, what was the point of having all that power if you weren't going to do anything good with it.
His friends were also eagerly looking forward to it. Harry and Neville, having Auors for parents, were very keen to learn the tricks they had their parents speak of for years.
Hermione, too was looking forward to class, as only Hermione could. She apparently had been reading up on jinxes and counter-jinxes for the last three months. Harry and Ron had both come to the conclusion that there was absolutely nothing Hermione hadn't been reading up on for the last three months. In fact, she'd skipped breakfast to read up on the chapter of basic counter-jinxes in Standard Book of Spells.
There was only thing hampering their mood: their class was with the Slytherins. Ron was convinced, like all faithful Gryffindors, that the whole lot of them were pure evil. Harry and Neville, of course, were in strong agreement.
The bright side was that Remus was teaching the class, so at the very least they didn't have to deal with Snape.
They were early to class and Hermione quickly grabbed the seat next to Neville, who was sitting right behind Harry and Ron.
Harry turned around in his chair with a knowing grin on his face. "Not partnering with Lavender today?"
"I'd rather stick pins in my eyes," Hermione said seriously. "She spent all of Potions talking about lip gloss colors."
She looked at the confused looks on her three friends and rolled her eyes. "It's makeup, boys."
"Oh," they all responded, but were none the wiser.
Class was starting to fill up and they all rolled their eyes as Draco sauntered in, flanked by several other Slytherin first years.
"Well, if it isn't our very own Seventh Son," he said with a twisted grin as he made a beeline towards them. "For the life of me, I can't imagine why anyone would want to have seven children to begin with. What, did you parents decide there weren't enough ginger idiots in the world?"
Ron's fist tightened into a ball.
"Well, no one would expect you to understand, Malfoy," Harry said coolly, after nudging Ron in the ribs. "I'm sure the merits of a big family are lost on you, with half of your relatives being in Azkaban and all and the rest on the run."
Malfoy turned bright red. He looked ready to punch Harry, but Professor Lupin entered the room. "Good morning class," he said with a grin and surveyed the room. His eyes fell on the scene between Malfoy and the children of his closest friends. A knowing expression crossed his features.
"If you could all please take your seats," he said with a pointed look at Draco.
Draco shot another glare at towards them before rejoining his friends at the other end of the classroom.
Professor Lupin called the room to attention once again. "Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Year 1. Now, forget about everything you think you know about the Dark Arts. Now to defend yourself against Dark Magic, you must first understand it. The first thing to understand is that Dark Magic is not in and of itself evil. But in the wrong hands, there is nothing more dangerous. It has the potential to do tremendous harm, but no spell casts itself off the page. So, your first lesson is this: magic is a tool, darkness lies within. For, the most of evil of spells is powerless in the hands of a pure-hearted wizard. In this class, we will discover all aspects of Dark Magic to the most innocuous jinxes to the most Unforgivable Curses. Any questions before we begin?"
Hermione raised her hand. "Yes, Ms. Granger, is it not?" Remus said with a smile.
"It is, sir. You say Dark Magic is not evil of itself, but if a curse or a jinx is created for an evil purpose, would that not by design, make it evil?"
The professor smiled and Ron sensed that he was impressed. "Excellent question. I'll give you an example. Let's take a jinx you'll learn very soon. The Knockback Jinx. It's designed to make someone take a very nasty fall backwards. But think about it like this. Say your beloved pet was charging head first to the edge of a cliff. Would you say that using the Knockback Jinx to halt them was evil? Yes, it may cause them temporary discomfort but in the long run it saves their life. Of course, there some spells that are evil by design. Which is why they are called Unforgiveable, but that's a story for a later time. Now, turn to page 18 of your Defense Books. We'll be learning the most basic of protective spells: the Shield Charm. Now, there are different kind of Shield Charms, some more powerful based on the proficiency of the wizard and the situation. But a Shield Charm will protect you from most jinxes, hexes and curses. Of course, there are some it won't protect you from and we will learn about those later. Now, if you ever played Knights and Highwaymen, casting a Shield Charm will be a sinch." He smiled a knowing smile realizing that the most of the pureblood and half-blood children had already learned this the moment they got their wands from their relatives. "But of course," he continued, "in order to shield yourself, you'll need something to shield from. So, we'll also learn the basic stunning charm. First things first, pair up into teams of two."
Ron and Harry immediately tagged each other as their professor expected and he had no intentions of splitting them up. It would've been like splitting up James and Sirius. Hogwarts would fall.
But it seemed they would be split. Hermione got paired with Neville, something that gave Harry uneasiness. Neville had been struggling a bit with all his classes, and Hermione hadn't. She was going to crush him, which wouldn't do wonders for his already wounded confidence.
Neville's powers had first been known to manifest when he was five, which made him something of a late-bloomer.
Being a late-bloomer was bad enough, being a late-bloomer when all your relatives were extraordinary wizards was a nightmare. After all, Neville's grandmother, Augusta had just a won dueling contest. His mother had just busted an illegal potions ring, and his father, well there was almost nothing Frank Longbottom hadn't done. And there was only way to describe Simon Longbottom, his recently deceased grandfather: legend.
Harry communicated his concerns. Ron, Neville's paired with Hermione.
Perceptive as he was becoming, Ron didn't at first get the issue. So?
Harry rolled his eyes. So, Ms. Read a Thousand Books A Day is probably going to kick his arse. I'm sure she's been practicing dueling since the second she's got her wand. And Neville's horrible at dueling!
Ron quickly realized that Harry was right, after all of the three of them had been dueling with play wands since before they could walk. After a while, Ron had been forbidden to do so for fear of his power getting away from him.
Neville had never been the best at dueling and although he took well to flying, that was about the only thing he hadn't struggled with. Flitwick told him he needed lots and lots of practice in charms and Harry had been absolutely murderous when Snape called Neville's potion a "sordid disgrace. Oh, shite, what do we do?
You better partner with Hermione, Harry told him.
What? Harry, I can't. Hermione's nice and all but she the most intense, insane—
Ron! We're talking about Neville here!
All right, all right, fine! But you owe me!
"Neville," Harry called out quickly. "Let's you and me have a go, yeah? I believe you owe me a rematch anyway."
Neville turned away from Hermione, surprised. "Sure. But who's going to square off with Hermione?"
"I will," Ron said and he hoped he sounded eager. He understood why Hermione wanted to do so well, but that didn't mean he wanted to be going up against her at every turn. He had enough to be worrying about, thank you very much.
Still, Neville was one of his oldest friends, and he would not see him embarrassed, especially not with Malfoy around. He'd never find his confidence otherwise.
Ron joined Hermione who grinned widely. "I can't believe it. Stunning spells, already."
Ron nodded. "Well, we'll be dueling properly next year, so I suppose it's makes sense."
Hermione looked suspicious. "How do you know what we'll be doing next year?"
"Hermione, lesson plans at Hogwarts haven't changed in a thousand years. My whole family has been going here for just about that long. Everyone in my family started dueling in second year. Well, everyone started dueling in school at second year. When they actually started dueling, I'm not at liberty to say."
Hermione grinned at that. "And when, pray tell, did you start dueling?"
Ron chuckled. "I'm also not at liberty to say."
The rest of the class paired into duos and Remus stood at the head of the class. He conjured up a large, wooden doll about six feet away from him. "All right, stunners to right, shielders to the left, and then we'll switch off. All now watch me. This is the stunning charm. Arms up, wands extended, think of yourself as hammering down a very large nail, and with feeling, Stupefy!"
He demonstrated the act of stupefying toward the wooden doll and it immediately fell back about two feet, though it did not fall over.
"Right then. I shall now demonstrate the Shield Charm, all of you watch me. Think of yourself as blocking an object coming towards you and meeting it in the middle like parrying a blade and again, with feeling, Protego!"
A slivery, translucent bubble seemed to form around the Professor. He quickly dissipated it. "That Shield has saved more than its fair share of wizardkind. It's very important that you all master it. Now, let's begin. Stunners at the ready."
Ron was going to be stunning Hermione first, then they would switch positions. He knew he had to be careful. He was a powerful wizard, with a powerful wand and he didn't want to hurt Hermione. Duncan had told him many times before than when he got the point of using magic with his classmates, he'd have to work on restraining himself.
He suddenly wished Duncan was there. The incident with Neville was never far from his mind and he did not want a repeat of it, especially in front of the rest of the class.
But he didn't entertain notions of Hermione taking it easy on him, so he knew he'd have to take it easy on her. No showing off, he admonished himself.
"Wands at the ready," the professor called. "On the count of three. One. Two. Three. Stupefy!"
Ron perfectly followed the wand movement that Remus had demonstrated, but so did Hermione, and she blocked his stunning as if she'd been using Shield Charms her entire life.
"Protego," she said strongly and Ron watched as his spell bounced right off her.
"Well done, Ms. Granger," called Lupin. "Good show, Mr. Longbottom," he praised Neville who had apparently landed a stun on Harry.
"Again," the professor ordered and Ron steadied himself was determined that Hermione wouldn't win them all. He was too quick for her the next time and he stunned her.
They went back and forth a total of five times and Hermione managed to Shield herself twice.
"Very good!" Lupin said to the class. "Switch off now! Stunners, prepare your Shield Charm."
Ron looked at Harry who was eagerly taking up a defensive pose. It was clear the two friends were in agreement: Defense class was the best and Lupin, as expected, was already their favorite teacher.
Hermione was less successful with stunning than she had been with shielding. In all five tries, she could not stun him before his Shield was up. She was slightly frustrated, but determined.
Neville and Harry had been quite evenly matched and Ron had a suspicion that Harry had made it so. He also reminded himself to tell Duncan how easy telepathic communication had become with Harry.
"Excellent, excellent work," Remus said with a delighted smile. "We'll have a crop of Aurors here, I'm quite certain of it. That'll be all for today. Please read up on the differences between jinxes and hexes as well as the Running Web Jinx for our next class. Dismissed."
Lunch was next and no one was happier than Hermione. Skipping breakfast was a perfectly rational habit in her mind if it meant she could study more, but it did make her quite hungry by the time lunch arrived.
Their next class was History of Magic, which only Hermione was looking forward to. Everyone else had heard from relatives that it was a most boring class, an absolute drudgery and the best place to pass notes or catch up on your other homework. Even Percy, who usually did not object to tedious lessons, had told Ron to have coffee at lunch.
Bill had told Ron explicitly that everything that would be covered would be covered at least three times as Professor Binns believed in being thorough.
Ron was soon to learn how right Bill was. Professor Binns had spent the entire first class going over the autobiographies of the first witch and wizard known.
Only Hermione seemed interested as she was taking very diligent notes. Everyone else in the class seemed struggling to stay awake.
After what seemed three eternities, the class ended and Ron had never been happier to have a lesson end. Not to mention his next class wasn't until midnight. He had time to watch Quidditch practice and then Hermione had insisted on a very long Private Study which for some reason, Neville had readily agreed to.
Ron and Harry, swept up in the mix, could think of no objections and were therefore obliged to tag along. Besides, they both knew their mothers would raise hell if their grades began to slip.
Hermione stook Private Study very serious and admonished her friends to do the same. Neville earnestly told her that he would.
Harry and Ron had firmly agreed, but something told Hermione it wasn't the first time she'd have to mention it.
Of course, having friends delighted her even if she wasn't always sure of how to act around them. All she knew was that she enjoyed their company much more than she did Lavender Brown or Parvati Patil. She was quite convinced there was something amiss with their brains.
Ron was convinced that Hermione would've kept studying till Astronomy started at midnight but they did finally convince her to leave to go and watch the Ravenclaws practice Quidditch.
As they headed off to the pitch, she listened to Ron and Neville prattle on about the sport.
Hermione would have never admitted it, but she didn't quite understand Quidditch. She always managed to get caught in the excitement of her three friends, but she prayed to never have to explain it to anyone.
Of course, there were very few people more enthusiastic about Quidditch than Ron, Harry and Neville. But Hermione was quickly learning that they weren't the only ones.
Dean and Seamus were also Quidditch enthusiasts and even Lavender and Pavarti could rattle off statistics and player biographies at a second's notice. This astonished Hermione as she hadn't thought of them as capable of memorizing anything other than a ridiculously complicated makeup routine.
She was eager to learn, as her classmates were already talking of throwing a match for First Years, most of which could only dream of making their house teams during their second years or beyond.
Of course, her flying was absolutely horrid so she doubted she'd ever make the English National Team (she'd only found out the day before that there was an English National Team).
The Ravenclaws practiced well, but their Keeper (according to Ron) needed more energy and determination.
Hermione watched intently, but she found her mind wandering to the upcoming Astronomy class, not to mention her Potions homework.
While she thought Professor Snape was vile, she wanted to impress him. She hadn't on her first day, and she knew she had to be better. She would be better.
Their assignment was simple: identify all the items in a Shrinking Potion just by looking at their pictures in a book. She was determined to ace it.
As the sun went down over Hogwarts and she watched the Ravenclaws zipping around on their brooms, she thought of her flying lesson with Ron.
For some reason, she had a sinking feeling it would end badly and breaking the rules was against everything in her nature. Everything in her nature, except being the best. She was willing to risk a few House Points if it meant being the best.
After the Ravenclaw practice, dinner was served and Ron put the first part of his plan in motion. Sneaking around at Hogwarts was no feat of chance or luck. You had to know what you were doing. Harry was already in on it as he was to be keeping by watch at the door of the Gryffindor Common Room.
Fred was also in on it. As a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, he could check out extra brooms whenever he wanted. So, Ron had cashed in several favors and one IOU in exchange for Fred checking out two and depositing them on the roof of the Astronomy tower.
The IOU had been the price of Fred's not asking questions, as his brother knew all too well that neither Ron or Harry or Neville needed extra practice on a broom.
Rule-breaking came naturally to Ron, but he had a feeling that it didn't come quite so easily to Hermione and was therefore taking every precaution he could think of.
Fred came late to dinner and with a knowing nod to Ron sat next to George. Ron smiled. Phase One complete, he thought to himself with a grin.
He didn't know why, but for some reason, he was looking forward to it. He didn't know why, but he was. He figured it was because that he knew this was probably the most adventurous thing he'd get to do before Duncan arrived.
Once he was there, Ron knew all his free time would absolutely evaporate.
Dinner came and went and after an excellent sticky toffee pudding for dessert, there was nothing to do but wait for Astronomy class.
Hermione only knew how to wait by studying so it was to no one's surprise that she ventured off to the library.
"How can someone spend that much time with books?" Ron wondered aloud as he and Harry headed back to the Common Room.
"Have you touched that stack that Duncan sent you?"
Ron shook his head. "I'll read them when he gets here, not before. He's going to quiz me, and I won't know the answer and that'll give him a chance to lecture. He so loves to lecture. I'm doing him a favor, really."
"Somehow, I don't think Duncan will see it that way," Harry said with a wry smile.
"Yeah well, we're not all blessed with his insight. Up for a game of exploding snap?"
"Ron, we've got lots of homework. Snape will scream bloody murder if our Potions list isn't done."
"I think you've been spending too much time with Hermione," Ron said with a sigh, but he relented, knowing his friend was right.
Ron and Harry settled into large cushioned chairs and began their homework. As Ron began working on his Defense Against the Dark Arts work, for the briefest of moments, he thought he heard something, something that made him alert. He looked up and out of the window, but saw nothing but darkness.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"Nothing," he said finally, though he wasn't sure it was. "Nothing at all."
Finally, Astronomy class arrived. And there was no other way to describe it, Ms. Leah Grandelfleu, Astronomy Professor was hot. Harry, Ron and Neville had only recently become aware of their hormones. And Ms. Grandelfleu did little to calm them down.
She was tall, with pin straight blond hair and bright green eyes.
They hadn't quite been aware of it during their first sighting of her at the Grand Feast, but now in the smaller Astronomy Tower, it was clear to see that this could very well be their favorite class.
Duncan had mentioned several times that he thought Astronomy to be a "ghastly bore" and "waste of time" as spells and magic were hardly ever used. He'd wanted it removed from Ron's curriculum altogether. But neither the Weasleys or Dumbledore would hear of such a thing.
At that moment in time, Ron had never been more grateful for his parents' and Dumbledore's interference.
"Welcome all," she said in a warm tone. "To First year Astronomy. Now you're all surely wondering what the bloody 'ell does Astronomy have to do with magic?" Her affected Cockney accent made them all smile.
"Well, I'll tell you this much," she continued her perfectly, clipped posh accent. "If you never understand the stars, you'll never understand magic...not fully. You may be able to produce a spell that will repel the Darkest Magic, but you will never ever understand how you got to that place. The stars, the planets, the constellations all aligned for you to be there and that is what we will discover for your first five years of this class. And for those of you that continue to for sixth and seventh year...well the secrets of Astronomy will be unlocked."
Hermione couldn't help but be intrigued by the teacher's words. Astronomy had not been at the top of her list.
"Telescopes, everyone!" Ms. Grandelfleu said with a smile. "Our first assignment today will to be locate as many of the constellations as you can located on page 15 of your textbooks. Let's begin."
Ron looked through his book and although he couldn't make heads or tails of the names the constellations, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen the constellations before. Though he couldn't name where or when, something about the intricate patterns of Ursa Major and Polaris seemed very familiar to him.
Astronomy was not a revered subject in the Weasley household and he well remembered Bill and Charlie bemoaning the class. But maybe he'd seen the pictures in their astronomy books.
As they moved to the telescopes, the vivid images of the stars came to life and Ron was struck even more vividly that he'd seen it before.
"They're beautiful," Hermione whispered as she focused her telescope. "The stars."
"Divine," came Harry's reply with more than a hint of sarcasm, which Hermione either didn't notice or chose to ignore.
Neville and Harry were yawning at each other, clearly bored to tears. But Ron, for some reason he couldn't quantify, it was fascinating. He felt connected to it.
"Yeah, they're very beautiful," he agreed with Hermione and the two shared a smile.
He managed to locate Ursa Major and Hermione found the Plough. A couple of Ravenclaws found a few others, but all too soon, the class was over. And the plan went into force.
Prefect were supposed to escort the first years back from Astronomy class and the ever-dutiful Percy had not chosen this moment to take his charge lightly.
He was there, standing at attention, just like Ron knew he would be.
Ron and Hermione had earlier agreed that they would both lag behind a bit to ask the professor some questions. It had actually been Hermione's idea and Ron was beyond pleased to learn that was a devious streak in her yet.
It had also been predetermined that Harry and Neville would wait for Ron and Hermione. Percy, not wanting to delay the whole class, instructed his fellow Prefect, Penelope Clearwater to lead the students back to the dorms, while he waited.
Ron smiled, his brother was all too predictable. Ron gave Neville a pointed look.
And Neville, never one to disappoint, fainted right on cue.
Percy and Ms. Grandelfleu leapt into action.
"Neville, Neville," Percy said running to the seemingly passed-out boy.
"Neville, wake up," cried a petrified Harry. "Is he breathing, Percy? Percy, do something, Percy!"
"Let's get him to Madam Promfrey," Profesor Grandelfleu said quickly.
Neville's eyes started blinking rapidly and a soft moan escaped his lips.
"Right," Percy said. "Give him here." He scooped up Neville and began to carry him off, the professor right behind him. "Harry, Ron, get back to the dorm."
Harry and Ron smiled at each other while Hermione just shook her head in wonder.
"I can't believe that worked," she said, her voice dripping with incredulity.
"Never underestimate's a prefect's thirst for praise," Ron said, directly quoting Fred and George.
Hermione didn't seem convinced. "Won't Madam Promfrey be able to tell that there's nothing wrong with Neville?"
Harry shook his head. "There's always something wrong with Neville. She'll give him some Pepper Up Potion and send him to bed."
"You too better get going," Harry reminded them. "I'll get back to the dorm and cover for you."
"Right," Ron said. "Come on, Hermione."
They retrieved the hidden brooms and looked up at the night sky, the Scottish Highlands surrounding them. The sight was truly breathtaking.
"I never want to go home again," Hermione commented breathily. "So," she said turning to Ron. "How do we get down?"
"We fly, of course."
Hermione's jaw dropped. "What? Are you mad? This is tallest tower at Hogwarts. We can't fly down."
"You'll never become a good flyer playing it safe," Ron told her. When he sensed her true intimidation, he relented. "All right, I'll fly us down. Just hold on tightly to your broom."
He mounted his broom and motioned for Hermione to sit behind him. "Hold on," he told her.
"Have you ever done this before, flown from this high?" she asked as her little hands gripped around him.
"No, but I've flown from the top of Harry's gazebo. How much harder could it be?"
Ron really wasn't worried as he'd flown Ginny around hundreds of times before, not that Ginny needed much help.
He kicked off from the ground and the broom shook a little under the extra weight, but it quickly adjusted itself. Hermione held on tighter and Ron could tell just how nervous flying made her. "Come on, let's head to the Pitch."
Under the cloak of night, they flew to the Pitch. Ron was impressed that he managed to land so softly even with Hermione and her broom adding extra weight.
Hermione lit a candle that she'd brought with her with a Bluebell flame. After placing it on the ground, she met Ron's eyes, a streak of steel in hers.
"All right, then," she said folding her arms. "Impress me."
"I don't know if I can do impossible things," Ron said wryly. "But first rule of flying: float."
"Excuse me?"
"Get on your broom and just to try to stay still in the air. You'll never fly if you don't float."
He proceeded to demonstrate as he hovered just above the ground on his broom.
"Just float," he told her again.
Hermione looked at the broom again, determined not to be beat and quickly mounted it. She felt that familiar wave of nausea, but she fought it down. She would conquer this, she would not be defeated by a bristled stick.
Ron couldn't help but be impressed by her determination. He could sense it, he could see it. Hermione was the kind of student that Duncan would love. Her single-mindedness when it came to accomplishment reminded Ron of Percy, and Duncan and Percy got on like a house on fire.
Hermione steadied herself as best as she could on her broom and did her best to follow Ron's advice.
"Am I floating?" she asked.
"Relax your shoulders. The broom can tell if you don't trust it. Once you trust it, it'll trust you."
"I'm not used to brooms that are actually alive, you know."
Ron was thoroughly confused. "What other kind are there?"
"Brooms aren't alive in the Muggle world, Ronald."
"How the bloody hell do you get around then?"
"We drive cars."
"Oh right, Dad has one of those. Well, go on, trust the broom."
Hermione took a deep breath and did her best to relax. For a moment, she felt completely and totally centered. The broom steadied under her and for the first time, she felt completely in control, like she could go where she wanted, as fast as she wanted.
She felt like she could...fly. The smile that broke out over her features was indescribable as she floated, then hovered.
"Bloody hell," Ron whispered as Hermione finally started to fly. "She's cracked it."
She beamed at Ron, who was watching her from his atop his broom.
"You've got it, go on," he said encouragingly. "Try to go forward a bit. Remember you control the broom. Try to come to me."
Hermione set her eyes upon Ron and nodded. She tried to connect with it the broom to think of it as a part of her, and she eased forward, quickly at first and then she slowly steadied and came to him at a measured pace.
Ron nodded encouragingly. "That's it, that's it," he told her with a smile.
With a little bit of stop-start, Hermione reached Ron. "Well, you're not ready for the Cannons, but I think with a bit more practice, we'll make a Beater out of you yet!"
"Oh, Ron, thank you so much, I can't tell you how much this means to me." And with that she threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.
Ron immediately felt his cheeks flush. He never been so embarrassed in his life.
"You're...you're welcome," he said, not meeting her eyes. Then he realized that his embarrassment was being compounded by her own. His emphatic abilities were growing quickly and there were times when he had difficulties distinguishing his own emotions from the others around him.
They were both silent for a few moments and finally Ron couldn't take the silence any longer. "So, up for a race?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "So you can trounce me like you did in chess?"
"Hey, you'll never beat me if you don't try."
"Fine. One race. Just one."
"All right. Ready. Set G—"
The words died in Ron's voice as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He looked up to the sky. Something was off, something was wrong.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, concerned.
"I don't know. But I feel like we should go."
Before they could move, there was a whirring sound from a direction Ron couldn't place. Suddenly, Hermione let out a wail as some sort of spell knocked her backwards, broom and all and she went spinning wildly into one side of the Pitch.
"Hermione!" Ron cried, as he raced his broom over to her. Before he reached her, something knocked him back.
He looked around and reached into his robes for his wand. He looked up towards the sky and from the western edge of the he thought he saw the tip of an alit wand.
"Who's there?" he yelled. "Who's there?!" There was no answer. "Hermione! Hermione are you all right?"
"I'm fine! Who is that?" she called from the opposite end of the Pitch
"No idea! But stay where you are, don't move!"
"Are you mad! We've got to get out of here!"
There was another whirring noise and Ron looked up to see what looked like a fireball barreling towards the center of the pitch.
"Get down!" he yelled at Hermione as he did his best to get out of the way. He dove further into the pitch, near the bleachers. He didn't know what was going on, but frankly, he didn't care to find out. The fireball came down in the center of the pitch, alighting the grass from one end of the Pitch clear to the other. Clearly, this was no ordinary fire.
Ron watched horrified as the Pitch began to burn. But he knew he couldn't stand still watching the blaze. He had to get to Hermione.
She was on one end of the pitch and he was on the other and he was fairly certain that whoever was up there had not left. He didn't know if this was a sick joke or something more sinister, but he knew he didn't have time to find out.
He looked down at his wand. "Any bright ideas?" he asked it aloud.
He felt it shake in his hand as if it was trying to tell him something, but what he didn't know. But suddenly, suddenly he knew what to do. He didn't know how or where the thought had come from, but he knew.
"Freeze the flames," he asked the wand. The affirmative came in the lowest whispers, in a voice that nearly sounded like his own.
Not knowing, what he was doing, he pointed his wand at the flames, and though they didn't visibly change, somehow he knew that it was no longer dangerous.
Crouching low on his broom, he slowly edged his was forward and then quickly accelerated, driving his broom right through the flames.
His heart pounded in his ears, but he had to keep pushing forward.
Hermione, his mind called out to hers, not risking vocal communication. Hermione!
Ron, Ron! Is that you? How are you doing that?
Never mind how. I'm coming towards you. We have to get out of here.
He emerged on the other side of the firewall and Hermione's jaw hit the ground. She had to stop herself from speaking and giving away their location.
He raced over to her. "Come on, hop on. We've got to go!"
She hesitated, nearly frozen form the events that that had just transpired.
"Hermione, Hermione come on! We've got to go!"
Something in his tone startled her out of her daze and wordlessly she hopped on the broom and held on.
"How are we going to get out of here?"
"Right, still working on that," Ron whispered.
"Work faster," Hermione insisted. "Whoever's up there isn't going away!"
As if to underscore Hermione's point, the firewall suddenly disappeared but they both knew that wasn't a reason for joy.
The fire had disappeared as quickly as it had erupted and in its place was wind, a wind was that clearly magical in nature. It was stronger than anything Ron had ever seen. It whipped up everything around them. Ron could hear nails tailing, the House-colored banners being torn and blown in every direction.
"Hold on," he told Hermione as dug his heels into the grass of the pitch. But it was no use. They could feel the broom being pulled from the ground into the wind.
Hermione screamed as the broom lifted off the ground. Ron did his best to hold it steady, but they started to spiral and spin, like they were being pulled into a vortex.
Ron gripped the broom tighter, trying to drive it down against the wind, he could feel the wood of the groom grating into his fingers and his palms. He could feel Hermione holding onto his chest. The wind was pulling them up quicker and quicker.
Ron channeled all his energy into breaking free of the wind. If there was ever a moment to have some weird burst of Seventh Son magic, this was it. He had to get them out of there.
He gripped the broom as tight as he could and put all of his energy into forcing it down and forward.
Within a flash, they found themselves in the middle of the Dark Forest barreling towards a tree, no wind, no fire and no mystery attacker in sight. Hermione screamed again and her start nearly toppled them off the broom.
Ron braked hard on the broom, and managed to stop it before they collided with the tree.
They were silent for a moment, with nothing but the heaving of their breath as they attempted to calm down.
They dismounted from the broom, and Ron took a look at his injured hands. They were bloodied and raw, but he knew it was nothing that couldn't be healed in a manner of seconds.
"What was that?" Hermione asked, her voice still filled with shaken fear. Ron could hear as much as he could sense it and didn't help his attempts to put his own terror in the back of his mind.
"I'm not even sure if that was a who," Ron remarked as he assessed him his broom. "We've got to get back to the castle."
"How?"
Ron nodded to the broom.
"There is no way I'm going to get back on that thing!" decried Hermione.
"Well, we can't walk! This is the Dark Forest! All kinds of mad and hairy creatures live here. I don't know about you, but I've had enough adventure for the day."
Hermione didn't respond, her eyes were focused on something in the distance, something behind Ron. Ron whirled around to see another fireball hurling towards them. This time, he was the one that screamed.
But Hermione didn't. She pulled him to the ground and grabbed her wand. "Progtego Totalum!" she screamed and some sort of shield enveloped the two of them.
The fireball roared over their heads, but they didn't feel a thing as the spell Hermione had cast was protecting them from it.
They could see the fireball over their heads and neither of them were sure how long the spell would hold.
But as soon as Hermione thought she felt the slightest twinge of heat, the fire disappeared. Hermione removed the shield and the two stood up to find themselves directly in the presence of Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, Rubeus Hagrid Leah Grandelfleu and Remus Lupin.
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