The next day seemed to crawl by for Ron. He was right; Oliver was out of the infirmary, with a cautionary bandage around his shoulder and a warning from Madam Promfrey to keep off a broomstick for another day. After a day of slightly-less-than-exciting classes, he was finally able to go to sleep to await the beginning of tomorrow.
The following morning was cold and gray, much like the weather for the Quidditch match two days before. Once again, Ron was impatient, and kept fidgeting so much that finally Harry asked him if had ants in his pants. Not knowing about the Muggle expression, Ron promptly took off his pants and shook them out, much to the horror of Hermione who was with them in the Gryffindor common room.
"Ron," Harry choked out between bursts of laughter, "It's an expression. Why do you keep twitching?"
"I can't possibly imagine why I'm like this, Harry," Ron said innocently, shooting a warning look in Harry's direction while pulling his pants back on.
Harry responded with a clueless look in Ron's direction. "I can't either. That's why I'm asking."
The slamming of a textbook made them both jump in surprise. They had forgotten Hermione was there. She stood up, an almost angry expression on her face, red hair flying as she jumped up from her seat.
"All right, you two," she said, "What's going on? Ron, is this another one of your plots?"
"I don't know," he replied, "Is it?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and picked up her textbooks. "You tell me. I'm going to study somewhere where you two aren't babbling about insects. I'll see you later." With that, Hermione swept out of the common room, obviously fed-up with her friends' antics.
"Smooth, Ron, real smooth," Harry remarked in the silence that followed.
"I got her out of here, didn't I? Let's get the notes," Ron bounced out of his seat and practically ran up the stairs to his trunk. It took them five minutes to find the two notes that Ron had written first and another ten minutes to get Pig to stop zooming around and stand still long enough for Ron to get him to hold onto the note for Hermione.
"I don't think the professors will take kindly to an owl flying around their school," Harry said.
"Pig's not going to fly around their school, Harry, he's going to the Great Hall," Ron replied. He peered at his owl. "Got that, Pig?"
Pig hooted happily and pecked at Ron's hands. "I'm hoping that's where Hermione went."
"Why wouldn't she just go to the library?" Harry asked.
"I hear certain someone is there right now that she doesn't really like," Ron replied.
"Oh, you mean…"
"That's right." (A/N: Don't ask who…I don't know…some made-up character. I just need a reason for Hermione to not be in the library)
Ron threw Pig out of the window and he and Harry watched as the minute owl disappeared into the fog. Harry glanced at his watch. It was already 3 o'clock. One hour and twenty minutes until when Hermione and Oliver were supposed to meet in the library.
When Pig came back a few minutes later, Ron gave him the other note and turned to Harry as to Oliver's whereabouts.
"Probably outside, near the Quidditch goalposts, planning how to beat Hufflepuff in our next match," came the reply.
Pig swooped off again, trilling loudly, acting as his own herald. Even through the fog, the owl's loud bugling reached the ears of a lonely figure standing near the goalposts, staring at them.
Oliver Wood turned as the little bird flew above his head and delivered his message. The Quidditch captain caught the scrap of parchment as it floated to the ground and held it up, reading it.
"Half-birthday?" he said aloud, "I thought Harry's half-birthday was last month."
Nevertheless, he checked the time on the note and pocketed it before resuming his mental Quidditch match.