Waiting For Magic
Chapter Three
By Alicia Jennings
-
"You've got to be kidding, Harry.....It's impossible....no way...."
"I promise you, it's a fact! Dumbledore didn't say a THING at the last staff meeting about any Music teacher!"
"The Cannons really won a game?" Ron's face had a look of bliss, and he'd had it on since Harry told him of the Cannon's victory.
"RON," Harry snapped, "Back to the present conversation."
"Sorry." Ron still wore his look of ecstacy.
Harry continued. "Anyways, I don't know whether to trust her or not. It's funny, you know? She reminds me of Annie, almost. Just a little."
Ron shrugged. "Don't ask me, I've never seen the "mysterious" Brennah. Is Hermione coming by?"
"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "Do you know what that crazy woman is doing? Moving into Hogwarts early!"
Ron snorted. "I loved Hogwarts, don't get me wrong, but she's gone off a bit."
"A bit?" Harry rolled his eyes, idly tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. "Whatever makes her happy, I guess." He looked around. "Where's Professor Lupin? He's late."
"Better late than never," said Lupin, strolling into the office. "Have I missed anything?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Not unless you count Ron's disbelief that the Chudley Cannons won a game."
Lupin chuckled. "Took me a while to believe it, too. Anyways, let's get down to business. Ron?"
"Well, you see, Professor, Harry and I have found a potion...."
-
Hermione breathed in the smell of the castle, standing in the middle of her spacy apartment. Who cared if anyone teased her! This was home, and she knew that Harry felt the same way. She looked at the door by her couch that lead into Harry's apartment. When they were married, they would have a full suite.
"But when will that be?" Hermione thought, sitting down on the plaid-cushioned loveseat. Already the second date had come and gone, and the third date didn't look very hopeful, either. And after you really thought about it for a long while, it all boiled down to Voldemort.
"I don't care how powerful he is," Hermione growled. "If I ever got my hands on him, he'd look like a deformed pretzel..."
It wasn't fair. So much had gone wrong, and it was all his fault. Hermione brushed a tear away, surprising even herself. "I'm Hermione Anne Granger; I'm not supposed to cry!" Hearing a noise, she pushed aside her thoughts, dried her tears, and stepped into the corridor. The sight she beheld would have sent her great-grandmother into prayers galore.
A young woman about her own age was walking - or dancing, rather - down the hallway. Her blonde hair had black streaks in it, and she wore fishnets under her black skirt. Her shirt depicted the Seattle skyline in white glitter, and the noise was coming from her headphones turned up full blast.
Hermione's first thought was, "How'd she get a CD player to work in here?" The second one was, "Who the bloody he-" She waved, trying to get the young woman's attention, but she was too wrapped up in her music, eyes closed. Finally, Hermione walked up to her and tapped her on the shoulder.
She opened her eyes. "Oh! Sorry." She turned off her walkman. "Ahh. You're Hermione Granger, aren't you? Harry Potter's fiancee. Saw your pic in the Worldwide Wizard Gazette on your wedding announcement."
"Uhh...ahh...yes." Hermione blushed, still not used to all the attention. "And...umm.....who are you?"
"Corabelle Leigh. Professor of Muggle Studies." She extended her arm, and they shook hands.
"Well, I guess that makes you my boss then, doesn't it?" asked Hermione, leaning against the wall. Corabelle looked puzzled.
"Boss.....huh?"
"I'm to be the student teacher in Muggle Studies. You're only on a one-year contract, right? I'm to have the job next year."
"Yes," said Corabelle, smiling. "I didn't know that I'd be having a student teacher. But it'll be great! You can grade papers and show me around this place."
"Not a problem," said Hermione, grinning, as they began to walk down the halls. "This is the staff floor, as you know. Here's a staircase that leads to the fourth floor -"
-
The Next Morning -
"Sarah-Anne."
"Hmmm."
"Wake up."
"What....where am I?" Sarah-Anne sat up, running a hand through disheveled curls and blinking sleepily. "Remus? Oh!"
He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Do you want some breakfast? You looked like you were having a restful sleep, so I didn't want to wake you."
Sarah-Anne smiled at him. "Thank you. I need'd it."
Remus smiled back. "Okay. What do you want for breakfast?"
"What's bein' served?"
"I make a mean waffle."
"Sounds great." As Lupin started to leave the room, Sarah-Anne called out, "Wait!"
Remus turned. "Yes, Sare?"
"Thanks for lendin' me the extra bedroom. I 'ppreciate it."
He shrugged. "Not a problem. I just hope it wasn't too dusty. I don't have too many guests."
(A/N - No, dear readers, they didn't do anything. Do you think I'd write something like that?)
After Belgian waffles and a few cups of coffee, Remus and Sarah-Anne set out for Sirius' house, closing the front door behind them.
"Okay," said Remus, "We'll be Apparrating to 370 Brifeci Lane -"
"Ummm..." Sarah-Anne glanced down at her purse. "Remus? There's somethin' I didn' tell you."
Remus sighed, leaning against the wall of his front porch. "It can't be that bad, Sare. What is it? Hurry, we need to get going."
"Um, tha's the thing." Sarah-Anne bit her lip, looking guilty. "Remus, I haven't done magic in...ach, it must be fifteen years! My husban' didn't know I was a witch, and neither does me daughter. I've my wand, but I dinna know if tha' will do me any bit o' good."
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly.
Sarah-Anne looked away. "I felt guilty. Forgettin' me friends, then forgettin' my upbringing."
"Why did you?"
"I wanted to get away from it all.....see wha' it was like to be a normal human being. And when I met William, it was all she wrote." Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a strip of wood, battered and bruised. "Th' poor thing. I've not taken care o' it the way it should've been." She twirled it around her fingers lovingly, and pink and blue sparks shot out one end of it. "But, I guess I do have a lil' o' it left inside o' me."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "As happy as I am that you can make sparks, I don't want you splinching yourself. We'll walk."
-
"Hermione? Hermione, are you in there?" Harry pounded on the door again. "Hello?!?!" He groaned. "Women!"
"Harry, I'm directly behind you, dearest." Hermione smiled sweetly. "What was meant by the "Women!" comment?"
"Joking, Herm," said Harry, grinning, leaning down to kiss her. "How are you?"
"Fine, since you're -" Her last words were smothered in a deep kiss. He always had a way of doing that, especially when she was spouting off history dates and Arithmancy formulas and such. "Hmmph."
He pulled away, grinning. "I do have a way of doing that, don't I?"
Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "What if I had been about to tell you, 'Fluffy's standing behind you!' or something of that sort? You'd be sorry you smothered my words then."
"Yeah, but I'd die happy, wouldn't I?"
"Harry Potter, you're impossible."
"I know."
-
A/N -
Hey....guess what I just realized? THIS CHAPTER HAS NO PLOT WHATSOEVER. Guess what? I don't give a flip. Flame me if you want, just increase my stress level. We're marching a show at an away game this Friday, and we don't know our flag routine to "Rock the Boat". WOO HOOO!!!!!!! And we don't know what count we're supposed to move around the field on and...sigh. And dumb-you-know-what-band-director-hippie-dude tells us to just "figure it out on your own." We've never marched before, so HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO FIGURE IT OUT ON OUR OWN?!?!?!?! *breathes* Sorry. I'm venting. Anyways....
The next chapter - probably a beginning of a plot. I really need to work on my character development...i.e. making it interesting. We begin to see a little of what Brennah Marisse, the new music professor, is like. A few more romantic moments with Harry and Hermione for the fun of it....and a possibility of the Opening Feast. I don't know. I've been a LITTLE busy as of late - pageant, Fine Arts staff, Beta staff, flagline, and to top things off, my birthday's TOMORROW!!! WOOOOOOOOO! I'll be fifteen! And last Friday was my one year anniversary of being on ff.net. *sniff* I'm getting emotional. I better go. *sob*
Love to all -
Alicia M. Jennings