This is a story depicting a relationship between two girls. Don't like,
don't read.
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Occasionally Hermione would wonder about Parvati and Lavender. The shared giggles and exchanged looks, and Hermione would feel that she of all people should understand. She could not help but feel closer to them-maybe they of all people would understand as well.
She had made an effort to talk to them, and it was becoming clearer and clearer to her. So glaringly obvious to her, and she found herself questioning the belatedness of the discovery. And she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could give it a try.
Life was a bitch. The next day, Seamus had walked to her, face aghast. At her raised eyebrow, he had told her the news, and she ran to the hospital room to see for herself, but visitors were not allowed. But it was confirmation enough. So Voldemort was back, and Hermione cursed his timing. She would personally face him if she could-she could not have cared less. Life was an absolute bitch.
The school was thrown into chaos, like it always did every year when there was the faintest whiff of Voldemort returning, and Hermione found herself laughing at the predictability of the situation. Just like sheep, everyone scurrying for cover. Somewhere in the midst of the panic someone bothered to question the reason for Parvati and Lavender being in the grounds in the dead of the night. It was anybody's guess, but Hermione thought that she could hazard one.
Harry and Ron were right, of course, and Ron took great pains to remind her that they had wanted to investigated earlier and perhaps, could very well have prevented the attack. Hermione could not help but feel a pang of guilt, and red hot anger at Voldemort for hurting her increasingly important friends. They had plans to be involved, how predictable, and Hermione could already picture the whole scenario in her head. They asked her along of course, and she complied, and realized she was culpable of predictability as well. The forest, Ron had declared, was the key. The creature who had attacked had to be from there. Hermione rolled her eyes at the glorious revelation.
They made plans to meet in the night. Ginny was there too, in the deserted common room at midnight, and sent Harry off with a good luck kiss and a whispered "good luck", and Hermione realized she was finding the sight of Harry harder to bear. No good luck kiss for Hermione of course, just an encouraging smile which was hardly enough. They left quickly, for which Hermione was grateful for-she did not feel like staying in the room much longer, not when Ginny was still there. Then she realized that she did not feel up to investigating either, but there was no turning back. Hermione was a woman of her words.
They crept down the hallways, led only by the moonlight filtering through the window. The three were closely huddled together, fighting for every inch of the invisibility cloak, and with practiced ease, moved without a sound. The front doors were a problem of course, and they waited with bated breath as they pushed out into the cold. No Filch and Snape came running with eyes gleaming, for which they were immensely glad, and Hermione hurriedly stepped out of the suffocating cluster, brushing her robes off.
Find, engage and subdue, Ron had said was the plan. Hermione gave him points for optimism. They gripped their wands and wandered to the edge of the forest. Facing the wall of trees and darkness, Harry warned them to stay together, and they stepped in with no small amount of trepidation.
At some point in time, several bestial cries ripped through the stillness nearby, and Ron whirled around in blind panic. Retreat, report and fight another day, he affirmed his life motto, and Harry and Hermione quickly agreed. It was far too dark to fight, and there appeared to be more than one creature after all; they had bitten off more than they could chew.
With flurrying feet, they hastily retreated. It was only when Harry uncovered his invisibility cloak, prepared to dive back into the safety of the castle, that he realized that Hermione was gone. Suppression abandoned, Harry and Ron erupted into full blown panic. They scurried back, scouring in the darkness. No success after an hour, and they resignedly decided to ask for help, fearing the worst.
McGonagall was informed first of all, and before long every teacher in Hogwarts was assembled in her office. Snape did not take to them kindly, taking every opportunity to snap at their feet, until Dumbledore told him to stop non too gently-they were already pale with worry.
"Now I wonder why you kids have such a foolish notion of taking things into your own hands," were the words by McGonagall. A large number of points would be deducted from Gryffindor for sure, effectively offseting the victory of the Quidditch Cup.
The teachers discussed their next actions, and some were quickly dispatched to continue the search; after all, it was best that Hermione was found as quickly as possible. Dumbledore ordered Harry and Ron to be taken back to their rooms. Harry searched Dumbledore's face for comfort and found none this time-he looked stern, with lips tightly pressed into a line; it was not mild amusement his eyes were twinkling with.
Not a word was said as McGonagall led them back to their rooms-an indication of the extent of trouble they were in. Punishments were put on hold, but Harry had a dreadful sense of foreboding.
Ginny was still waiting in the common room when they entered. McGonagall gave no comments, but it was clear she was aware of Ginny's involvement as well. She left with a stern glance and a warning for them to get into bed.
Hermione's absence did not escape Ginny's keen eyes. "Where's Hermione?" were the first words she uttered, and when she received no reply, her knees went weak and she slumped back into her seat. Harry had no awareness of his actions, numb as he was, but he would later realized he had retreated back to bed as curtly proposed by McGonagall. He could not fall asleep of course, and tossing in bed offered no relief.
He laid in bed, eyes cast at the ceiling. It was the first time one of their plans failed so miserably. For once, they were made to face the consequences-it shattered Harry's once enforced sense of invincibility. So loss in contemplation, that Harry did not notice the shadow that flitted across his bed, disappearing into the darkness. When he did notice, it was far too late-the drapery was ripped open and the figure pounced upon him with the ferocity of a beast. Its long hair enclosed Harry's vision, trapping him in a blanket where there was no reprieve. It clawed mercilessly at Harry's flailing arms and legs, and Harry was defenseless and could do nothing but shield his face. The entire process was silent, until Harry finally found the sense to scream for help.
His roommates awoke immediately. A spell was cast and light flooded the room, but the creature did not cease. It was only when a chorus of voices sounded, did the creature stop, but not without a threatening snarl. As it slumped to the floor, stunned under the spell, there was a unison of gasps.
The news spread like wildfire. Neville pounded down the hallways, running as fast as his legs would carry him. McGonagall was in her office when the door was flung open a mere five minutes later. Under her inquiring gaze, he announced, between rasping breathes, that Hermione was back.
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Occasionally Hermione would wonder about Parvati and Lavender. The shared giggles and exchanged looks, and Hermione would feel that she of all people should understand. She could not help but feel closer to them-maybe they of all people would understand as well.
She had made an effort to talk to them, and it was becoming clearer and clearer to her. So glaringly obvious to her, and she found herself questioning the belatedness of the discovery. And she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could give it a try.
Life was a bitch. The next day, Seamus had walked to her, face aghast. At her raised eyebrow, he had told her the news, and she ran to the hospital room to see for herself, but visitors were not allowed. But it was confirmation enough. So Voldemort was back, and Hermione cursed his timing. She would personally face him if she could-she could not have cared less. Life was an absolute bitch.
The school was thrown into chaos, like it always did every year when there was the faintest whiff of Voldemort returning, and Hermione found herself laughing at the predictability of the situation. Just like sheep, everyone scurrying for cover. Somewhere in the midst of the panic someone bothered to question the reason for Parvati and Lavender being in the grounds in the dead of the night. It was anybody's guess, but Hermione thought that she could hazard one.
Harry and Ron were right, of course, and Ron took great pains to remind her that they had wanted to investigated earlier and perhaps, could very well have prevented the attack. Hermione could not help but feel a pang of guilt, and red hot anger at Voldemort for hurting her increasingly important friends. They had plans to be involved, how predictable, and Hermione could already picture the whole scenario in her head. They asked her along of course, and she complied, and realized she was culpable of predictability as well. The forest, Ron had declared, was the key. The creature who had attacked had to be from there. Hermione rolled her eyes at the glorious revelation.
They made plans to meet in the night. Ginny was there too, in the deserted common room at midnight, and sent Harry off with a good luck kiss and a whispered "good luck", and Hermione realized she was finding the sight of Harry harder to bear. No good luck kiss for Hermione of course, just an encouraging smile which was hardly enough. They left quickly, for which Hermione was grateful for-she did not feel like staying in the room much longer, not when Ginny was still there. Then she realized that she did not feel up to investigating either, but there was no turning back. Hermione was a woman of her words.
They crept down the hallways, led only by the moonlight filtering through the window. The three were closely huddled together, fighting for every inch of the invisibility cloak, and with practiced ease, moved without a sound. The front doors were a problem of course, and they waited with bated breath as they pushed out into the cold. No Filch and Snape came running with eyes gleaming, for which they were immensely glad, and Hermione hurriedly stepped out of the suffocating cluster, brushing her robes off.
Find, engage and subdue, Ron had said was the plan. Hermione gave him points for optimism. They gripped their wands and wandered to the edge of the forest. Facing the wall of trees and darkness, Harry warned them to stay together, and they stepped in with no small amount of trepidation.
At some point in time, several bestial cries ripped through the stillness nearby, and Ron whirled around in blind panic. Retreat, report and fight another day, he affirmed his life motto, and Harry and Hermione quickly agreed. It was far too dark to fight, and there appeared to be more than one creature after all; they had bitten off more than they could chew.
With flurrying feet, they hastily retreated. It was only when Harry uncovered his invisibility cloak, prepared to dive back into the safety of the castle, that he realized that Hermione was gone. Suppression abandoned, Harry and Ron erupted into full blown panic. They scurried back, scouring in the darkness. No success after an hour, and they resignedly decided to ask for help, fearing the worst.
McGonagall was informed first of all, and before long every teacher in Hogwarts was assembled in her office. Snape did not take to them kindly, taking every opportunity to snap at their feet, until Dumbledore told him to stop non too gently-they were already pale with worry.
"Now I wonder why you kids have such a foolish notion of taking things into your own hands," were the words by McGonagall. A large number of points would be deducted from Gryffindor for sure, effectively offseting the victory of the Quidditch Cup.
The teachers discussed their next actions, and some were quickly dispatched to continue the search; after all, it was best that Hermione was found as quickly as possible. Dumbledore ordered Harry and Ron to be taken back to their rooms. Harry searched Dumbledore's face for comfort and found none this time-he looked stern, with lips tightly pressed into a line; it was not mild amusement his eyes were twinkling with.
Not a word was said as McGonagall led them back to their rooms-an indication of the extent of trouble they were in. Punishments were put on hold, but Harry had a dreadful sense of foreboding.
Ginny was still waiting in the common room when they entered. McGonagall gave no comments, but it was clear she was aware of Ginny's involvement as well. She left with a stern glance and a warning for them to get into bed.
Hermione's absence did not escape Ginny's keen eyes. "Where's Hermione?" were the first words she uttered, and when she received no reply, her knees went weak and she slumped back into her seat. Harry had no awareness of his actions, numb as he was, but he would later realized he had retreated back to bed as curtly proposed by McGonagall. He could not fall asleep of course, and tossing in bed offered no relief.
He laid in bed, eyes cast at the ceiling. It was the first time one of their plans failed so miserably. For once, they were made to face the consequences-it shattered Harry's once enforced sense of invincibility. So loss in contemplation, that Harry did not notice the shadow that flitted across his bed, disappearing into the darkness. When he did notice, it was far too late-the drapery was ripped open and the figure pounced upon him with the ferocity of a beast. Its long hair enclosed Harry's vision, trapping him in a blanket where there was no reprieve. It clawed mercilessly at Harry's flailing arms and legs, and Harry was defenseless and could do nothing but shield his face. The entire process was silent, until Harry finally found the sense to scream for help.
His roommates awoke immediately. A spell was cast and light flooded the room, but the creature did not cease. It was only when a chorus of voices sounded, did the creature stop, but not without a threatening snarl. As it slumped to the floor, stunned under the spell, there was a unison of gasps.
The news spread like wildfire. Neville pounded down the hallways, running as fast as his legs would carry him. McGonagall was in her office when the door was flung open a mere five minutes later. Under her inquiring gaze, he announced, between rasping breathes, that Hermione was back.