"Ow." Ron moaned, rubbing his cheek tenderly. A large blue-black bruise was already forming. Harry's look of concern was pinched by a growing smile, and he bit his lip repeatedly to stifle a laugh. Ron sent him daggers as he nursed his wound.
"I told you, Ron, put ice on it." Hermione persisted, ticked.
"I will not," he told her, "run to the infirmary for a little thing like this." He blinked hard, and Harry noticed the tears of pain he was damming.
"It is not a little thing! You're going purple!" Hermione stressed.
"You wouldn't say that if you got hit by a girl." Ron glowered. Harry snorted.
"Yea, I would say 'Go to hell, bitch!'" Hermione exclaimed, and Harry stopped chuckling and Ron stopped moaning long enough to gawk at her. "What?" She feigned ignorance, even though she was the most conscious of how many times she had cursed before in her life-never. "She probably liked you, Ron." Hermione consoled him. Harry almost went into hysterics at this remark.
"The warrior queen? Like him?" He clutched at the stitch in his side, while Ron punched him on the arm.
"I think she's-nice." Hermione declared, resulting in a dumbfounded stare from Harry and several unblocked punches from Ron-to Harry, of course.
"Are you kidding me? She's like, the descendant of Ivan the Terrible!" Ron spluttered. "She didn't even have reason to hit me-"
"Yes, she did!" Hermione indignantly interrupted.
"All I said was that her brew was too thin!" Ron retorted.
"Because you stole her pine needles!" Harry gasped, still cracking up.
"Shut up!" Ron was becoming annoyed.
"Okay, okay, I'll stop." Harry promised, his laughter dying down. Hermione was still frowning.
"I think you should apologize." Hermione ordered, not really asking whether or not he wanted to.
"What? She-she is the one who-" Ron furiously cried out.
"You should apologize. You picked on her just because she was new, and American, and she can't hardly help those things you numskull!" Hermione's voice climbed as the sentence culminated, and she became red in the face.
"You're supposed to be my girlfriend, Hermione!" Ron yelled. It was true; the two best friends were a couple-a feisty, disagreeing couple, but a couple nonetheless. They drove each other absolutely mad sometimes, although they had their moments.
Hermione stomped off, perturbed; as Harry bent over, chuckling merrily; and Ron stood in outrage.
"Where's Charms?" Grace-Anne Glitz confusedly searched the halls with her chestnut pupils, mahogany hair swishing around her.
"How should I know?" Her shorter, blonde companion asked of her. Noreen Ingverson was the only other American in the place, and Grace-Anne's only friend.
Grace-Anne shrugged, tight-fitting shirt stretching as she did so. Her torn jeans indicated bike accidents, her unkempt hair showed carelessness, and a distinctive tan was the hard work of many hours in the sun. Noreen's streaky hair was pulled into a no-messing-around ponytail; her loose Blink 182 shirt fell down to the knees of her jeans, ripped as Grace-Anne's and for the same reason. They had much in common, as they discovered in their few short weeks together spent at Hogwarts.
They were two of the ten Exchange Students, sent to Hogwarts for a year. The rest spoke such obscure languages as Swazai-Brazailian, Hungar-Polishian, and Itali-Romano. Noreen and Grace-Anne couldn't a catch a word, and the train ride to school had been a terrible one. Fortunately, they hit it off quickly.
"Excuse me?" A light, feminine voice from behind them belonged to a petite girl of fifteen. She had shining cinnamon hair and huge, trusting bronze eyes.
"Who are you?" Grace-Anne blurted out, startled.
"My name's Faye." She smiled, beautiful in the right light.
"Oh. I'm Grace-Anne. This is Noreen." Grace-Anne introduced.
"Nice to meet you. Now, did you say you needed to know were Charms was?" She was as polite as if she had been brought up in a Polishing School rather than one of witchcraft. Grace-Anne was amazed.
"Yea. You know?" Noreen gruffly responded.
"Right down the hall, to your left, take the next staircases up, through the unicorn tapestry, and the fifth door on your right." Faye smiled sweetly, revealing rows of brilliant white teeth. Grace-Anne blinked like she might have if the sun itself were blaring into her eyes. Nevertheless, they followed Faye's instructions and were promptly on time to Charms.