Harry Potter and the Messengers of Sorrow Chapter-3
Author's Note: Well, everyone. Here it is. Chapter-3. Please R/R. Well, enjoy!
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the great J.K. Rowling and are in no way ours. Except for Gracie Brown, she belongs to us. Anyway, read please!
Harry turned and watched as the opening to Diagon Alley closed. Then he gazed around at all of the unique shops and smiled. Then, he started circling the area, looking for either Ron or Hermione. He searched for about a half an hour, and did not see either of them, but ran into many of his other Hogwarts friends. He saw Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan in front of Madame Malkin's Robe Shop, and Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil eating giant banana-nut fudge sundaes on the steps to Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor. A brown-haired, freckle-faced girl was standing next to Lavender, whining. She looked about ten or eleven years old.
"Gracie, be quiet. No you cannot have any of my sundae; it's your own fault that you spent all of your money of Chocolate Frogs," Lavender was telling the girl. She pouted.
"Lavender, you're so mean. I'm going to tell Mum on you…." Harry stifled a laugh as he hurried past the girls. Gracie strongly reminded him of Dudley—at least on one of Dudley's good days. Then finally, after almost an hour of searching, Harry heard and all-too-familiar voice.
"Oh, thank goodness Harry! You're here!" Harry felt a pair of arms fling around his neck. He turned to see Hermione, who was grinning. "We thought that you couldn't make it, and if you weren't here by tomorrow morning, then Mr. Weasley was going to go get you."
"Oh," Harry replied, speechless by Hermione's overwhelming greeting. "Where is Ron, anyway?"
"Right here." Harry whirled around and saw a figure whom he assumed was Ron. He couldn't be sure, though, because all he could see was the tip of a freckled nose peeking out between a load of enormous shopping bags.
"Hello…Ron. Are all those bags yours?" Harry asked tentatively.
"Of course not," came a voice from somewhere underneath the bags. "They're mine and Hermione's. She convinced me to carry her junk while she looked for you. Now I see that there were other reasons. She just loved the idea of me being her own personal bellhop, I'm sure." Harry turned to Hermione. She flushed pink.
"No, that is not the reason. I did want to look around for Harry. Didn't I Harry?" "Uh," Harry looked from Ron to Hermione and cringed. He hated being in the
middle of their fights. Ron and Hermione were his best friends, but sometimes he wished they'd quit fighting and grow up. "I'm sure Hermione had good intentions," Harry started to say. Ron scowled at him, and Hermione beamed.
"Thank you, Harry! See, Ron?!" Ron stuck out his tongue. Harry knew he had to do something fast, or things could get nasty.
"Um, Hermione? You carry your own things since you found me, so now Ron, you only have to carry your own stuff." Hermione scoffed, but grabbed six of the eight bags from Ron's arms and led the trio down the path. "Great," thought Harry bleakly. "Now they're both mad at me. That's what you get for playing peacemaker."
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"There is no room left on this train," Ron exclaimed, ducking to avoid a flying wand. He, Harry, and Hermione were on the Hogwarts Express, trying to find an empty compartment. Suddenly a small first year poked her head out of a compartment ahead of them. Harry recognized her as the whiner from Florean Fortescue's.
"Ooh," she squealed. "Are you looking for a seat? Lavender! Can they sit with us?"
"Ungh." Ron gurgled. His expression was half-panicky.
"No…" Lavender started to say, but then she saw Harry peeking out from behind Ron's shoulder. "Uh, I mean, yes!" She turned to Parvati and giggled nervously, but Parvati just glared at Harry. She was probably still mad at Harry from the Yule Ball last year. Harry had gone with her, and basically ignored her throughout the entire ball. But Harry had to admit he would have been mad if he was Parvati. Harry left the seat next to Lavender empty, and took the one next to that. Hermione plopped down next to him and Ron on the other side of Hermione. The girl on the other side of Lavender stared at Harry, wide-eyed.
"Hi," she whispered. "Are you Harry Potter?"
"Er, yes." Harry answered, feeling very stupid indeed.
"Hey Lavender! Isn't that the guy that you have that big crush on? The one that you really, really li-"
"Shut up, Gracie." Lavender cut in ferociously, her face burning. Pretending that he was unaware of what had just happened, Harry turned in his chair and started conversing with Hermione.
"So what did you do over the holidays?"
"Well," Hermione answered, "my family and I went to Bulgaria to visit some of our relatives." Ron suddenly cut in.
"You didn't go see Vicky anytime did you?" Harry looked at Hermione. He had been wondering the exact same thing. Hermione turned beet-red.
"Well, uh, no…" she sputtered.
"Why not?" Ron inquired persistently.
"Myrentswoulntetme," she mumbled.
"Speak up!" Ron commanded.
"My parents wouldn't let me go visit Victor!" Hermione yelled. "There Ron, are you happy now?" Ron stared at her. Harry could tell that he was trying hard not to smile. But all that Ron managed to do was say,
"Why not?" Hermione scowled.
"They didn't want me to visit a strange eighteen-year-old boy who lived in the mountains, when I was only fourteen."
"Oh dear," Harry said. Hermione looked so depressed that Harry felt sorry for her. "Well," he started hopefully, "maybe they'll let you visit him next year." Ron glared at Harry, and to Harry's surprise, Hermione did, too.
"I can't," Hermione said ruefully. "Victor and I broke up. He didn't want to maintain a long-distance relationship if we couldn't even visit each other. So, we're just friends now." Ron hid a smile at these words. Harry patted Hermione on the arm.
"Well, it's all for the best." Hermione sighed.
"Yeah, I guess so." Harry heard a giggle behind him, and turned to see Lavender, Parvarti, and the whining girl, all staring at them, wide-eyed. Hermione took one glance at them and regained her composure, straightening up in her seat.
"Ahem," she said cooly, and Harry could tell that she was trying to sound important. "Since I'm a prefect now, I have certain obligations that I must tend to. I must speak to the other prefects at this moment. I'll be back in a minute."
"Amazing," a voice said. The girl, Gracie, was gaping with awe at Hermione. "You're a prefect?" she squealed. Hermione smiled proudly.
"Yes, I am."
"Oh, this is amazing! I'm meeting a prefect! Oh! Lavender, you're jealous, aren't you? Jealous because you're not a prefect? And she is! What's your name?" Gracie just couldn't contain her excitement.
"Uh, Hermione. Hermione Granger." Hermione said, looking apprehensively at the overexcited girl.
"OH MY!" Gracie cried shrilly. "Hermione Granger? The Hermione Granger? The top-of-every-class-Hermione Granger? You're a prefect! Hermione, you are my favorite person in the whole world, besides my mum, of course, but I can't believe I'm meeting you at last!" Gracie flung her arms around Hermione's waist. Hermione was obviously overwhelmed, but Harry could tell that she was pleased, too. Lavender, on the other hand, was positively fuming.
"I am NOT jealous! I didn't WANT to be a prefect! And Gracie, come here right now!
"No," Gracie grinned mischievously. "I want to stay with Hermione."
"Grace Amanda Brown, don't you dare say another word, or I'll…I'll…I'll rip you tongue out!" The look of pure happiness on Gracie's face suddenly turned to fear.
"No, no! Don't Lavender, please, no! I like my tongue where it is now. I can't talk without my tongue."
"Well, Gracie." Lavender said reproachfully. "That's why I said that I would rip it out! So you couldn't talk!" Gracie suddenly smiled again.
"You'll have to catch me first!" She then bolted past Hermione out the compartment door. Lavender rushed out after her, and Parvarti trailed behind, muttering under her breath. Harry caught the words 'immature brat.' Harry wondered if it was Lavender or Gracie that she was talking about, but he had a pretty good idea.
As soon as Parvarti had shut the compartment door, Hermione continued talking as though nothing had happened, and that the shrieks, yells, and thundering of feet were not at all happening outside their compartment. "Well, I better go." She walked to the door.
"Wait, Hermione! I'm a prefect, too." Harry said.
"Really?" Hermione asked. "You are? That's great, Harry!"
Before Harry could reply, he heard an unintelligible grunt from the compartment. He turned to see Ron's horror-stricken face.
"You two are prefects?" he whispered hoarsely.