Vincent
Arithmancy passed quickly: the calculations seemingly flowing effortlessly from Hermione's brain to the paper. Perhaps it was the excitement of Professor Sprout's announcement or just that the ease of the work. That was the thing about arithmancy; it was almost like breathing for Hermione. When she had first taken it on in third year it had been a haven from the stress of the time turner and from that awful, awful fight she had had with Ron. Heavens. that boy was infuriating at times. Every difference in opinion had ended in a fight and more often than not they went to bed red faced and fuming at the other. Hermione could never figure him out. At primary school she'd been teased maliciously for her appearance and her bookish qualities but now Ron had grown passed the childish stage and his own once cutting comments were gentle fun and often backhanded compliments. At this point Hermione chose to look down on her work and found to her great embarrassment that her once clean jotter cover was covered with a familiar name: Ron Weasley Ron Weasley Ron Weasley, scrawled over and over again in her neat script. Professor Vector dismissed the class at that point and Hermione was left to deal with her own thoughts another time.
As she left the room Hermione heard a yell and at that very moment the last person she wanted to set eyes on came flying down the corridor towards her. It was a sight to see: Ron Weasley a lanky, clumsy, red headed boy who had not quite grown in to his height or shoulders was running gracelessly down a corridor toward her with an inane smile on his face. He skidded to a stop in front of her and seeming rather sheepish after his display put his hands in his pockets and looking to the ground mumbled, " Er. umm. well done. Neville told us about the trip and I think it's a . er.fantastic opportunity and it's .. Unbelievable! Hermione - you didn't ever tell us about it and its great that you get to go.its just..." Hermione's face burnt bright red especially as she had not failed to notice the despondency in the final last few seconds of the speech. It had been a very confusing outburst and so all Hermione managed to muster in response was a puzzled,
"Erm. Ron what are you on about?"
It was now Ron's turn to look perplexed and said slowly, "The trip? To the Herbotonist thingy?"
"OH!" Hermione exclaimed as the clouds lifted. "Ron nothing's certain yet. I mean I haven't even decided whether or not to enter yet and I would be up against the entire year group if I did."
They had started walking toward the Great Hall for lunch, passing numerous rules being openly disregarded but Hermione found she was far too enraptured in Ron to bother with them, for once. How could it be that all of a sudden she found Ron's jaw line chiseled, angular, sexy. SEXY?! He had started in to his usual teasing Hermione Queen Bookworm routine about how of course she'd get it; it wasn't as if she wouldn't write five thousand words more than everyone else. And while doing so probably discovering a new technique never before tested but of course infallible technique on Plant anger management. She reached up a hand to give him a playful slap on the head and as hand and hair collided she felt a shiver of excitement run through her body. Ron turned and grabbed her arm, "Now, no fighting Miss Granger. You're a prefect you should know that!" Hermione's eyes narrowed in mock rage and didn't say anything more to him as they walked through the impressive arch that led to the Great Hall.
The two were once again talking as they through their bags down beside Harry's and slid into their respective seats beside the Boy Who Lived. Harry looked stressed. His hair was even more tousled than normal (if possible) and he seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes open. The tome that lay open in front of him looked indecipherable. "Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione was confused. The last time she had seen Harry he had been more than a little carefree, happily chatting about new and improved methods of disemboweling Draco Malfoy so what had happened in the last two hours. Ron on the other hand was laughing.
"Harry mate, what did he do to you?"
Harry looked at his best friend scathingly. "Its all your fault you know.if it wasn't for you.. Hermione, guess what brilliant idea our best friend came up with?"
"Umm. No idea."
"He decided we should bunk off Divination and use the invisibility cloak to get away with it. However we decided no to put it on until we got out of the tower and he put it on first. So, just as I was about to put it on Snape comes around the corner wanting to know what I'm doing out of class!"
"No!"
"He then proceeds to, instead of giving me an ordinary detention he decided that I can stay of class as long as I help him with a new sleeping potion. He made me try it too and as if that's not bad enough he's giving me a test on it tonight as a detention."
Ron looked at Harry and started another round of laughter. "Harry mate I'm so sorry but its still funny." Harry continued his scathing glares.
*
Hermione was in her favourite armchair again. The one she had almost drifted of to sleep in the previous night. The heavy book on her lap was different although its content was just as insipidly written. Harry had gone of to face his detention and Ron was sitting on the ground beside her chair, favouring Chudley Cannons Quarterly over his transfigurations calculations. Her left hand rested just inches above his head and she longed to reach out and touch it, to run her fingers through the fiery locks. It looked different than usual in the flickering light of the fire. Its harsh orange become shades of amber, sienna, some even seeming to resemble molten lava in amongst the dancing shadows. Slowly his eyes turned around to meet hers, "What's the matter?" his voice seemed like honey in sunshine to Hermione's ears
"Have you got a dictionary - my one's upstairs?" Her excuse seemed lame even to her own ears. She sighed softly as he stared to rummage around in his bag. She couldn't believe she was falling for her best friend. She was only glad that Ginny was playing Gobstones at that particular time or else she would have been discovered almost immediately. A cough alerted her to the fact that Ron had found the dictionary.
"Here you go. Er. careful it doesn't bite." With that he settled back down against the chair and continued to read Clara Cush's 'Diary of a Chaser". A biting dictionary. it was one of Fred and George's more original ways of making school fun. They had taken to enchanting a lot of household objects over the summer - Ron's just generally seemed to be a lot more dangerous than most.
About an hour later Hermione felt the usual tiredness that accompanied late night studying wash over her and resigned herself to bed. On her way up to the dormitory she realized that this was one of the rare occasions they hadn't fought at bedtime. Maybe this crush was the start of something good.
A/n: Firstly let me thank everyone who took the time to review chapter 1. Just a few notes to follow: remember all good things take time so let me develop this story first and you will see the mist all clear away about the title, plot etc, also if everyone could take to minutes to review it would be most appreciated. 1,000,000,000,000,000 bonus points to the person who can find the quote used in this chapter. Below is the song that inspired me to write this story for those of you who don't know it. It's beautiful.
Vincent (Starry Starry Night)
Don McClean
Starry starry night
Paint your palette blue and grey.
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land CHORUS:
Now I understand what you tried to say to me.
And how you suffered for your sanity,
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now Starry starry night,
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue,
Morning fields of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. CHORUS For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry starry night,
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you... Starry starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless heads on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow. Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity,
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen,
They're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will.
Arithmancy passed quickly: the calculations seemingly flowing effortlessly from Hermione's brain to the paper. Perhaps it was the excitement of Professor Sprout's announcement or just that the ease of the work. That was the thing about arithmancy; it was almost like breathing for Hermione. When she had first taken it on in third year it had been a haven from the stress of the time turner and from that awful, awful fight she had had with Ron. Heavens. that boy was infuriating at times. Every difference in opinion had ended in a fight and more often than not they went to bed red faced and fuming at the other. Hermione could never figure him out. At primary school she'd been teased maliciously for her appearance and her bookish qualities but now Ron had grown passed the childish stage and his own once cutting comments were gentle fun and often backhanded compliments. At this point Hermione chose to look down on her work and found to her great embarrassment that her once clean jotter cover was covered with a familiar name: Ron Weasley Ron Weasley Ron Weasley, scrawled over and over again in her neat script. Professor Vector dismissed the class at that point and Hermione was left to deal with her own thoughts another time.
As she left the room Hermione heard a yell and at that very moment the last person she wanted to set eyes on came flying down the corridor towards her. It was a sight to see: Ron Weasley a lanky, clumsy, red headed boy who had not quite grown in to his height or shoulders was running gracelessly down a corridor toward her with an inane smile on his face. He skidded to a stop in front of her and seeming rather sheepish after his display put his hands in his pockets and looking to the ground mumbled, " Er. umm. well done. Neville told us about the trip and I think it's a . er.fantastic opportunity and it's .. Unbelievable! Hermione - you didn't ever tell us about it and its great that you get to go.its just..." Hermione's face burnt bright red especially as she had not failed to notice the despondency in the final last few seconds of the speech. It had been a very confusing outburst and so all Hermione managed to muster in response was a puzzled,
"Erm. Ron what are you on about?"
It was now Ron's turn to look perplexed and said slowly, "The trip? To the Herbotonist thingy?"
"OH!" Hermione exclaimed as the clouds lifted. "Ron nothing's certain yet. I mean I haven't even decided whether or not to enter yet and I would be up against the entire year group if I did."
They had started walking toward the Great Hall for lunch, passing numerous rules being openly disregarded but Hermione found she was far too enraptured in Ron to bother with them, for once. How could it be that all of a sudden she found Ron's jaw line chiseled, angular, sexy. SEXY?! He had started in to his usual teasing Hermione Queen Bookworm routine about how of course she'd get it; it wasn't as if she wouldn't write five thousand words more than everyone else. And while doing so probably discovering a new technique never before tested but of course infallible technique on Plant anger management. She reached up a hand to give him a playful slap on the head and as hand and hair collided she felt a shiver of excitement run through her body. Ron turned and grabbed her arm, "Now, no fighting Miss Granger. You're a prefect you should know that!" Hermione's eyes narrowed in mock rage and didn't say anything more to him as they walked through the impressive arch that led to the Great Hall.
The two were once again talking as they through their bags down beside Harry's and slid into their respective seats beside the Boy Who Lived. Harry looked stressed. His hair was even more tousled than normal (if possible) and he seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes open. The tome that lay open in front of him looked indecipherable. "Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione was confused. The last time she had seen Harry he had been more than a little carefree, happily chatting about new and improved methods of disemboweling Draco Malfoy so what had happened in the last two hours. Ron on the other hand was laughing.
"Harry mate, what did he do to you?"
Harry looked at his best friend scathingly. "Its all your fault you know.if it wasn't for you.. Hermione, guess what brilliant idea our best friend came up with?"
"Umm. No idea."
"He decided we should bunk off Divination and use the invisibility cloak to get away with it. However we decided no to put it on until we got out of the tower and he put it on first. So, just as I was about to put it on Snape comes around the corner wanting to know what I'm doing out of class!"
"No!"
"He then proceeds to, instead of giving me an ordinary detention he decided that I can stay of class as long as I help him with a new sleeping potion. He made me try it too and as if that's not bad enough he's giving me a test on it tonight as a detention."
Ron looked at Harry and started another round of laughter. "Harry mate I'm so sorry but its still funny." Harry continued his scathing glares.
*
Hermione was in her favourite armchair again. The one she had almost drifted of to sleep in the previous night. The heavy book on her lap was different although its content was just as insipidly written. Harry had gone of to face his detention and Ron was sitting on the ground beside her chair, favouring Chudley Cannons Quarterly over his transfigurations calculations. Her left hand rested just inches above his head and she longed to reach out and touch it, to run her fingers through the fiery locks. It looked different than usual in the flickering light of the fire. Its harsh orange become shades of amber, sienna, some even seeming to resemble molten lava in amongst the dancing shadows. Slowly his eyes turned around to meet hers, "What's the matter?" his voice seemed like honey in sunshine to Hermione's ears
"Have you got a dictionary - my one's upstairs?" Her excuse seemed lame even to her own ears. She sighed softly as he stared to rummage around in his bag. She couldn't believe she was falling for her best friend. She was only glad that Ginny was playing Gobstones at that particular time or else she would have been discovered almost immediately. A cough alerted her to the fact that Ron had found the dictionary.
"Here you go. Er. careful it doesn't bite." With that he settled back down against the chair and continued to read Clara Cush's 'Diary of a Chaser". A biting dictionary. it was one of Fred and George's more original ways of making school fun. They had taken to enchanting a lot of household objects over the summer - Ron's just generally seemed to be a lot more dangerous than most.
About an hour later Hermione felt the usual tiredness that accompanied late night studying wash over her and resigned herself to bed. On her way up to the dormitory she realized that this was one of the rare occasions they hadn't fought at bedtime. Maybe this crush was the start of something good.
A/n: Firstly let me thank everyone who took the time to review chapter 1. Just a few notes to follow: remember all good things take time so let me develop this story first and you will see the mist all clear away about the title, plot etc, also if everyone could take to minutes to review it would be most appreciated. 1,000,000,000,000,000 bonus points to the person who can find the quote used in this chapter. Below is the song that inspired me to write this story for those of you who don't know it. It's beautiful.
Vincent (Starry Starry Night)
Don McClean
Starry starry night
Paint your palette blue and grey.
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land CHORUS:
Now I understand what you tried to say to me.
And how you suffered for your sanity,
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now Starry starry night,
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue,
Morning fields of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand. CHORUS For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry starry night,
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you... Starry starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless heads on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow. Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me,
And how you suffered for your sanity,
And how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen,
They're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will.