Harry Potter and the Chalice of the Enchanter
Chapter Ten
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Hermione flinched as the chemical smells reached her nose. She couldn't remember if the beauty salon had always smelled that bad, or if the odor was incredibly strong now because her hair was being straightened. Rachel had convinced Hermione that a hair stylist could tame her wild hair; Hermione, desperate, would have agreed to anything at that point.
"You look great, hon." The hairstylist said with a thick Cockney accent. Hermione looked at the woman dubiously; she seriously questioned this statement. Firstly, she had putrid smelling chemicals seeping through a plastic shower cap that was covering her head, secondly, the women who had given the compliment had bright green hair that was gelled into spikes. After several minutes, Hermione decided to disregard whatever the women said. It was the only logical thing to do.
The hairstylist looked back at her, offended. "What? I've already told you, the hair is for Halloween, it's in two days, and I just wanted to look festive."
"Okay, just don't do anything like that on me. Please!" The last thing Hermione wanted was to look completely conspicuous. She wasn't really sure that she wanted to go through with the whole beauty thing anyways, but Rachel had been so eager to help her, that she just couldn't turn her down.
Harry was whom Hermione had in mind for the Harvest Ball. Ever since Viktor had dumped her, she felt a connection with him. Hermione knew it would crush Rachel, so she had merely "forgotten" to mention it earlier. She did plan on eventually telling her, but now wasn't the time. She stifled a smile as she thought of Harry. If she smiled too much, Rachel might get the idea that Hermione had someone in mind, and Hermione didn't want to tell her just yet.
*** ***
Rachel walked over to her chair. "Whom are you thinking about? Don't give me that look, I know when someone is thinking about a guy. I can read it in their face," she smiled slyly. This was perfect! If Hermione already had a boy in mind, Rachel could get her matchmaking duties over with and ask Harry.
"So, who is he?" She looked closer at Hermione's face, as if trying to gauge the mystery guy just by the expression her friend wore.
Hermione smiled. "I don't want to reveal any information, in case it doesn't work out, but..." she paused, trying to gather the right words to say without completely giving away Harry's identity, "I think he's in love with someone else."
"Oh. Has he asked her to the ball yet?" Rachel was determined to get her friend this date.
"No, he hasn't. He might, though, and he's the only boy that I really want to go with."
"Well, then you'd had better ask quickly." Rachel smiled, reassuringly. "Plus, if he really liked this other girl, he would have asked her already, wouldn't he?" She reflected on this idea, and than shrank back from her own statement. If Harry really liked you, he would have asked you. No, this is different, she argued against herself, this isn't Harry I'm talking about. This is another boy. Harry just doesn't want to screw up the friendship. He'll ask when he's ready. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the way as the hairdresser came back.
***
"It looks fabulous!" Rachel crooned excitedly as Hermione surveyed her new hairdo in the oversized salon mirror. Her bushy brown hair was now straight and sleek, with a chestnut shine running through it. Hermione is beautiful. It's amazing how nobody has asked her out. Rachel said to herself.
"Thanks." Hermione said, twirling a curl of hair around her finger. "I'm glad you like it. I was afraid that I would look strange with straight hair."
"Are you kidding? You look great! Whoever this guy is, he will melt when he sees you." Rachel grinned brightly and Hermione blushed.
"You really think so?" she asked dubiously. "I never really thought about it that much before. My hair never bothered Viktor."
"I know so! Now, we have to get you some accessories to wear with your Hogwarts robes!" Rachel pulled Hermione out of the salon by her wrist and dragged her into the small fashion shop across the crowded London Street.
***
"This guy had better be worth it." Rachel frowned slightly, looking at the pile of earrings, bracelets, rings, hair clips and necklaces that had assembled on Hermione's bed.
"Oh, he is." Hermione whispered, half answering Rachel's question and half talking to herself.
"Good, because If I had just spent twenty Galleons, I would want it to be for a good cause."
Hermione looked up, eyes widening. "Twenty Galleons!" she croaked. "I won't be able to buy anything for a year!"
"That's right, so if this guys says 'no' after all the trouble we've gone through, I will make him pay us the twenty galleons, knut by knut."
Hermione giggled; Rachel, like most Americans, was blunt, never scooting around what she wanted to say, never making her speeches flowery. That was one quality that Hermione admired. She hoped that Rachel would understand when she asked Harry to the dance.
***
"Ow!" Rachel popped her thumb in her mouth and stepped away from the bubbling cauldron.
"Miss Witt! I expect that while the class is trying to concentrate on potions, you could at least control your outbursts." Professor Snape barked from the front of the room.
Rachel looked at him angrily. "I burned my thumb and yelped, I hardly call that and outburst!"
"If little Rachel burned her poor little thumb, I think she should go to the nurse." Draco smiled cruelly from over his cauldron, which was boiling over and spilling an orange goop onto the stone floor.
Rachel returned his smile with an icy stare. "Professor, I think that If Draco is given the privilege to openly insult other students, he should at least have the skills to be able to follow the directions you give. Of course, that would require some intelligence, which he clearly lacks."
"That is enough, Miss Witt! 10 points from Gryffindor! If you can not control your temper, you will have to have a chat with Professor Dumbledore." The Professor pointed to the doorway before Rachel had time to protest her dismissal from class.
"And thus ends another Potions lesson." Rachel muttered as she stormed from the room to Dumbledore's office.
***
"So, Rachel, I hear that you are insubordinate, and I quote, 'can not be controlled.' Do you know anything about this?"
Rachel was about to protest, when she saw the sly twinkle in the headmaster's eyes. She immediately relaxed. "Now, I know that Professor Snape, has a tendency to favor some students over others. "He also…"
"Detests any non-Slytherin. Yes, I think that's how I'd put it." Rachel finished. Madame Pomfrey had healed her thumb before she entered Dumbledore's office and now she sat in front of the large desk.
Professor Dumbledore seemed to reflect upon this and then shook his head slightly. "No, that's not quite it. Though he is a harsher on Gryffindors, he is not entirely unfair. I would recommend not doing anything that you know will make him mad. Now, moving on to a more cheerful subject. Would you care for a lemon drop?" he asked, pulling out a small tin from one of the drawers and popping a small, yellow sphere into his mouth.
Rachel shook her head. "No, thank you. I have never been much of a fan of lemon."
"Well, suit yourself," he shrugged and replaced the container into the desk. "I have been talking to Professor Stapf and she suggested that you take private lessons from her, on being and omnimagus."
"Private lessons, whatever would I need those for?" Rachel inquired, curiously.
"Well, if you don't take lessons, she at least wants you to read this." He handed her a large book. She read the title, 'The Quest For the Cup'.
"This is about the Holy Grail. Why would I want to read this?"
He smiled mischievously. "Let us put it this way, the Holy Grail is called by many names and is known in many forms. You're a smart girl, I think you can figure it out from here."
Rachel stood up, slightly confused, and thanked Dumbledore before she left the room. "Ah, yes, one more thing!" he called after her. "Professor McGonagall has suggested that, since you know so much about Transfiguration, you may skip classes and go to the library to study." he winked and left her to wonder why on earth she would be excused from classes.
***
"Happy Halloween!" Rachel announced excitedly during breakfast. "And, as a reminder," her eyes focused on Harry for a moment, "the Harvest Ball is in two weeks. So, if you ever want to find a date, guys, ask within the next few days." She popped a piece of buttered toast in her mouth and stood up. Well, It's time for Defense Against the Dark Arts, so we should get going."
"Oh, fun!" Ron announced in a falsely cheery voice. "I get to learn more!" Hermione whacked the back of his head. "Ow!" he yelped, throwing up his hands to block the inevitable second blow.
"You baby." she muttered, walking off to class,
***
Rachel slowly walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with the rest of the sleepy Gryffindors. "Well, good morning!" Mrs. Stapf said, gleefully. like someone who had had too many mugs of coffee.
"Good morning." was the mumbled reply.
"Well, we're a little tired this morning, aren't we?" The professor scanned the sleepy faces and sighed, ever so slightly. "Well, let's start the lesson. Today we're learning to duel. I heard that a few years ago, a dueling club was started, but never amounted to anything. Now dueling is an important aspect of wizarding life. It is held in high regard, much like bull fighting in Spain. This sport is greatly respected. However, not many people teach dueling anymore in a classroom situation, which is rather a shame... because it is so much fun to put your friends in a full body bind." The class laughed; they were waking up. "So, I would like you to pair off."
Hermione looked over at Harry, a look of innocence plastered to her face. "Harry," she said sweetly, "Will you work with me?"
Harry, oblivious to her flirtatious behavior, gave Rachel a helpless look and said to Hermione, "Sure."
Hermione smiled and took Harry to a corner of the room that was far from where Rachel was. "I'm glad that we're alone. I want to ask you something..."
***
"What? She asked him to the Harvest Ball? I was going to ask Harry to the Harvest Ball! She knew that! Ron, she stole my boyfriend!" Rachel spewed at Ron, who backed away defensively.
"Well, I think you're being a bit hasty." Ron began. "Did Harry actually ask you to the dance?"
Rachel glared at him. "You're not helping." she stated flatly.
"I'm just trying to see things from all sides. It seems to me that Hermione really likes Harry. Maybe she didn't know that you liked him? Or that he liked you, for that matter. Oh, yeah, he really likes you... but I'm not supposed to tell." Ron flushed a little, he wasn't used to sharing his friend's secrets.
Jill joined the conversation. "Not know? How could she have not known? I mean the whole country of Russia probably knows that Rachel likes Harry. And I'm sure the whole continent of Europe knows that Harry likes Rachel. I'm not being biased because you're my friend, Rach, but Hermione was on your turf." She finished her speech and sat down.
"Wait a minute!" Ron said, raising his hand in the air above their heads. "Do we actually know what he said? We shouldn't flip out until we know if Harry said yes, or no." He looked at the two girls. "All right, I'll ask," he strolled over to where Harry was throwing some sort of curse at Hermione. "So," he began, casually, "What'd you say?"
Harry turned away from Hermione and gave Ron a pained look. "I didn't have a choice, I had to say yes." Ron gave him a skeptical look. "Rachel's gonna kill me." Harry added, not sure whether it was to Ron, or himself. Ron nodded in agreement.
***
"What'd he say?" Rachel pleaded when Ron returned from talking with Harry.
"He said..." Ron bit his lower lip with concern "Yes."
"What?" Rachel half shouted to Ron. "How could he do that to me?"
"He didn't do anything to you. He's just going to one little dance with Hermione. It's not the end of the world. They're just friends, that's all." Ron was getting a little irritated. Being a mediator was not easy.
"I hope Hermione wasn't hoping that I'd still be her friend." Rachel turned around and headed for the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see Madame Pomfrey."
"Wait!" Jill called, but it was to no avail. Rachel had already walked out the door. Hermione and Harry were walking towards Jill and Ron.
"Where did Rachel go?" Harry asked, concern filling his voice. He hoped that Rachel wouldn't take this too hard.
"To the nurse. She has a headache because of some news she just learned." Jill said, glaring at Hermione.
Hermione shrank back under the harsh gaze. "Maybe I ought to talk to her." She said shakily, looking from friend to friend.
"Maybe." Jill replied in an icy tone as Hermione dashed down the hall behind Rachel.
***
Rachel sat in one of the oversized wing chairs that furnished the hospital wing. A cup of hot chocolate was cooling on the bedside cabinets in front of her. Madame Pomfrey bustled over and took Rachel's temperature again.
"You don't have a fever." She told the girl.
"I know... I just have a horrible headache." Rachel replied, glumly. She wasn't exactly ill, but she was angry. Hermione never behaved like that, in fact, Hermione was the complete opposite. Why would she suddenly change?
Madame Pomfrey nodded. "You can stay in here for five minutes, then you have to go to lunch." The nurse left the room.
Hermione burst through the hospital wing door, panting. "I am so out of shape." She gasped between jagged breaths. "I ran all the way down here after you. You are so fast!" She flopped into the chair across from Rachel's, still catching her breath."
"Oh, you ran? Don't serpents usually slither?" Rachel glared at Hermione and took a sip of her cocoa.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something sarcastic, and then thought better of it. "Listen, Rach. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, but I had every right to ask Harry to the Harvest Ball, and you know it."
Rachel looked at her, sadly. "Of course you had the right, but you should have had the sense to know that he was spoken for."
Hermione looked at Rachel with disbelief. " 'Spoken for'. Are you crazy? You could have asked him any time, and vice versa. When no one did the asking, I just helped myself. There's nothing wrong with that."
Rachel knew she was beat, but wasn't about to give in so easily. "You knew I liked him, and I was kind enough to help you find a date. Why did you turn on me?"
"I didn't 'turn on you'. I just realized that I really liked Harry and that this could be my only chance to show him before you snatch him away." Hermione bit her lower lip nervously. "Come on, Rach. A girl can dream."
"What do you mean you just realized you liked Harry? Krum just dumped you and you were desperate. It's as simple as that." Rachel's voice was strained. She stood up to go but Hermione pulled her arm.
"Harry's my friend, Rachel. You have to realize that. You also have to realize that he did say yes. Maybe it was just because he didn't want me to feel bad, but he still said yes."
Rachel glared at Hermione and ran out of the infirmary.
"I'm sorry!" Hermione called after her. "Really, I am."
***
Harry caught up with Rachel in the hall. "Hey," he said cautiously, "Are you okay?"
She shrugged him off with a glare. "No, I'm not okay. With all due respect, what made you think that I could be?"
"Listen, I know you're mad, but you should at least listen to my side of the story!" Harry pleaded with her.
Rachel complied, with a curt courtesy. "Fine, you've got thirty seconds, shoot."
Harry gaped at her in astonishment and then began his thirty seconds before they were up. "Hermione and I have been friends for five years. We help each other out during the tough times. Krum just dumped her, and whether or not your realize it, that had a big impact on her. I know that she thinks she likes me, but she doesn't. She's just rebounding from Krum. We're going to the dance as friends and I hope that you can accept that." Harry blushed. "I know you're disappointed, but that's the way it has to be."
Rachel nodded. "I understand your side, but it hurts. She went behind my back and took the one person who I've ever really liked, and that person went right along with her. I know that denying her the chance to go to the dance with you would ruin many friendships, not just one, but I wish she had at least talked to me about it. See you later." Rachel walked towards the Gryffindor common room and said to the portrait of the Fat Lady, "Tangle woods"
Hermione was waiting in one of the armchairs when Rachel entered the common room. "Listen, Rach, I really think that we should talk. I feel horrible about what I did to you. I don't regret asking Harry to the dance, but I feel terrible about not talking to you about it first."
Rachel sat in the chair across from Hermione. "Fine, I'll listen, but this had better be worth it." She leaned back and waited for Hermione to start talking.
"I have a plan that will enable you to go to the dance with Harry and make everything so that he doesn't even know that I asked him." Hermione looked hopefully at Rachel.
"Let's hear it. I'm interested to see how you think that you can turn back the clock." Rachel glared at the other girl, there was no way that Hermione could possibly make this up to her. It would be nearly impossible.
"I have a way to turn back the clock, sort of." Hermione took a small package out of her robes and slowly unwrapped it. Rachel gasped in astonishment when she saw what it was.
"A Time-Turner!"
***
