A/N: Thank you all sooo much for the reviews and all. To inform you ahead of time, I'm pretty sure this will turn into Romance/Mystery. Anyway, enjoy…
What She Thinks: Chapter 12: Poetry Works
Turning it over with baited she made out two, very welcome words:
Hermione Granger
Though she felt rather relieved knowing it was for her, her desire to know who it was from grew stronger.
Hermione hadn't touched the medallion for weeks now, and felt rather guilty. She kept a close eye on Harry, hoping against hope the note was from him. When she really thought about it, he seemed the only one capable, and in the right position to write it. There was one thing that seemed able to take her mind off Harry and the note, and that was Quidditch. It turned out better than she thought, and was actually quite fun. Hermione was proud of herself for making the team but she her pride was nothing compared to Ron's. He pranced around the school, waving and chatting with people Hermione seriously doubted he knew. Judging by the look of confusion on his victim's faces they didn't know him either.
Hermione was looking forward to her first Quidditch match, played against Slytherin. Though she didn't understand the points all that well, as Harry had said, the important part is being able to understand the game, which Hermione did.
Waking early on Saturday Hermione grabbed her broom for practice. The match was tomorrow and Hermione had the feeling Harry was going to work them harder than ever.
She met the rest of the team in the locker rooms.
"Our first match," Harry began bravely, folding his arms behind his back and staring around at them all, nodding approvingly, "Our first chance to prove to this school that this year, we can not be beat!" He slammed his fist into his right palm determinably. "Are you going to be ready, when it comes? Are you going to win?"
"Yes!" They all answered, though not in a confident way, more in a shut-up-and-get-to-the-point sort of way.
"Then show me."
Later that morning Hermione sat with Harry and Ron in the Great Hall eating breakfast. Quidditch practice had truly worn them out. Hermione was getting tired of hearing, "Are you going to be ready?" Every time Harry looked at her.
Hermione left for the library to catch up on History and also in hope of finding more clues about Harry's medallion.
She began to flip through Symbols and their Meanings when her eyes fell on a torn page.
What Hermione found most peculiar about it was not that it was ripped, but what part of the page was ripped.
The page was entitled, The Phoenix. It showed the magnificent bird on may different ornaments: rugs, rings, platters and even on a toilet lid.
A part was torn from the bottom right hand corner. She began to inscription that had also been torn in half.
The Medallion alone is one--
And it stopped. Following the next line she read:
However, this means if fallen int--
Desperate, excitement coursing through her, Hermione continued to read but came to the conclusion that nothing left would help her. She flipped the page over hopelessly. The other side was devoted interlay to the meaning of the four houses and their descendents. She decided to check the book out and try her hardest to uncover the mystery later.
Pulling her History of Magic book out of her bag she thought she might as well catch up on some reading about the great Wizard War of 1563 when a piece of parchment caught her attention.
Sliding it out from between pages for and five she looked around. No one was watching so she began to read.
In short I'll say,
"I love you."
In long I'll say,
"I grieve for you."
In truth I'll say,
"I love you, Hermione Granger,
and always will."
But, once again, it wasn't signed.
Folding it up she decided to finish her homework in her dorm.
She was running, as fast as she could down an earthy path, surrounded by pitch-black wood. Her bare feet hit the earth beneath her with such agony from the blisters forming on her heels. Mist hung in the air, clouding her vision. Galloping steps echoed behind her from the depth of the trees behind and she picked up seed. It became harder and harder to breath. A small shack, rusty and broken, loomed nearer, cutting a definite outline in the fog.
As it became clearer she felt her foot hit a shrub in the ground.
Stumbling forward her face hit soft, brown earth. It was going to get her now, she had fallen, she was down. Any second now it was going to burst from the trees.
Looking hopelessly up at the shack she saw, with immense relief, a light that hadn't been there before, piercing the silence more effectively then if she had screamed. There was a warmness to the light, like a ray of hope, telling her, assuring her that she could make it, not to give up without a fight.
She lifted herself determinably to her feet and darted for the door, the agonizing pain in her foot seemed to heal instantaneously as her feet hit the damp, wooden floors of the shack. She stepped inside, transfixed.
Then she heard it again. Something or someone was galloping, like a steed. Whipping around she drew a tight breath in her chest. It seemed to sting from the cold night air penetrating her lungs. Determined not to scream she backed up against the far wall, opposite the door. Suddenly, it ceased. Was getting ready to attack? To pounce? The sound of crunching leaves met her ears, it was in a trot, heading for her. She looked wildly around the shack, something--anything--for her to defend herself with. But the cabin seemed bare except for a flight of rickety old stairs to her right, which from their appearance would crumble if so much as a feather found it's way to the steps, and if that was true, they were certainly unable to hold her weight.
Feeling it was her last hope she darted to the stairs and held firmly to the stairs. Miraculously, the steps did nothing but squeak. She had reached a landing and froze when the she heard shuffling footsteps below. Turning a corner she found herself in a hall lined with doors. But almost immediately, her attention was captured by the door at the very end of the hall. She had found it, the light filled room. Tiptoeing, she slowly made her way down the hall. She froze once again. The bottom step had creaked. She began to walk a little faster when more shuffles followed her pace became more rapid. Hearing a sudden crack she broke into a run. Without hesitation she flung the door open.
A/N: Yes, I'm stopping here. *Grins evilly* In a future chapter we hear a little from Harry and it gets really interesting… I'll only continued if I get 10 reviews as always. Please Review and feel free to e-mail me!
~Gabbi D.