Chapter Fourteen
Things were rather uneventful for the next three weeks, considering the circumstances. Ron had a cold for a couple of days, and Hermione caught it (Parvati suggested that perhaps she gad gotten it from kissing. Hermione smacked her.), but it was flu season and nearly everyone did at some point or another.
It seemed that quite a few students had witness Hermione and Ron's "intrigue" (as Lavender called it), including Draco Malfoy. Dean said he'd actually heard Pansy Parkinson telling Malfoy what had gone on- in a very exaggerated manner. Malfoy, however, made no snide remarks, no rude comments. Actually, he didn't say much of anything to anyone. In class, he was quiet and did what he had to, no more, no less. After five years of watching Malfoy cause trouble, it was a shock to see him so good.
Snape, however, more than made up for him.
Well known for pulling new rules out of thin air, Snape decided the day after the dance that "suggestive behavior" in public was a suspendable offence. Luckily, Professor McGonagall was able to get them out of it.
Ron still loved complaining about Snape, even after having had him as a teacher for six years. They were sitting in History of Magic one day, three weeks after Hallowe'en, when Hermione felt a note poked between her shoulder blades.
Pixie,
Is it just me, or is Snape watching me? Every time I look up in Potions, he's staring at me. Or so I think. I could be wrong. Have you noticed anything?
-Ron
Hermione bit her lip for a moment. Come to think of it, she had noticed Professor Snape watching Ron a few times over the past few weeks. She hadn't thought anything of it; after all, Snape did hate her and Ron. He was still bitter for failing to expel them.
Ron,
If Professor Snape's watching you, it's likely because he's looking for an excuse to have you thrown out of the school. Therefore, I suggest you stay out of trouble while he's around.
-Hermione
She passed the note to Ron, who opened it, read it and grinned. She watched him scribble a reply and pass it back to her.
Pixie,
Snape's excuse for trying to get us suspended was, as he put it, our "suggestive behavior". The thing is, he didn't actually see us at the dance (probably locked himself in his office, disgusted at the thought of children having fun). He heard it from one of the younger Slytherin students. According to thins young man, I had you on the ground, with your dress halfway off your shoulders. I don't know where that came from!
-Ron
Hermione rolled her eyes. Rumors, she thought. Honestly. Just to be ornery, though, she wrote back:
Ron,
Sorry, I wasn't paying much attention. How am I supposed to know that it's just rumors? Did you do that?
-Hermione
She grinned as she tossed it to him and watched as he raised an eyebrow, then scrawled his reply on the back of the paper.
I wish.
Hermione let out a smothered giggle, trying not to disturb the class. She crumpled up the note and looked over at Ron. He was grinning evilly at her. She crumpled the paper into a tighter ball, and took careful aim. Glancing for a moment at Professor Binns, she whipped the paper over Lavender's head at Ron.
He raised a hand to block the tiny missile, his grin still on his face. But then he frowned, his hand convulsed, and he missed the paper. It hit him in the shoulder. That wasn't so bad, it was only paper, after all. But Ron was still frowning- grimacing, now- and massaging his hand between his other finger and thumb. He finally flexed his fingers a few times, and focused again (however glumly) on the ghost professor.
Hermione caught up with Ron on the way out of class. "What happened to your hand?" she asked as she came up beside him.
"Don't know," Ron admitted. "It just wouldn't work. It froze up." He was quiet for a moment as Hermione took his hand and looked over it, bending his fingers and wrist back and forth. "Hurt like hell, too. Like the Cruciatus Curse, just on the hand." He drew his hand back and rolled his eyes. "I say that a lot these days, don't I?" he asked. "About the Cruciatus Curse?"
Hermione smiled uncertainly, and took Ron's other hand, giving it a squeeze. "Let's go," she said to him. "It's time for lunch."
"We have Potions after lunch," Ron complained as they walked down the hall. "Double with the Slytherins." He shuddered. "Why do we always have to have it with the Slytherins? Why?" He threw up his hands in despair. "Aarrgh!"
Hermione laughed. "Get over it," she chided. "At least it's only twice a week. Most people have Potions every day."
He rolled his eyes. "One day I will just give up in Potions. I will just lose it and go completely mad, and drop on the floor, twitching." He laughed. "That shouldn't be too far away, at the rate this is going." He put his arm around her shoulders, and they walked laughing, to the Great Hall.
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