HPFF(9)
Harry took off his glasses and reached over Phebe to put them on her bedside table. He sighed, marveling at how soft and comfortable Phebe's dorm bed was in comparison to various other places in the ancient Hogwarts castle. Harry stroked a strand of Phebe's hair gently out of her face.
"Hmm," said Phebe. "I don't think I'm really in the mood right now."
"What?" Harry asked, caressing a path from her chin to her ear. "Your roomie's not here" – Kiss – "over Christmas" – Kiss – "and you're not" – Kiss – "in the mood?" He planted a trail of tender kisses down her neck. There was a knock on the door. "What now?" Harry wondered irritably out loud, annoyed at the interruption.
The door opened. "My goodness!" gasped Professor McGonagall. "Mr. Potter! Ms. Hawkins!"
Phebe and Harry sprang apart at once and rolled off the opposite sides of the bed.
"First of all, there are no boys allowed in the girls' dorm," McGonagall lectured. "Secondly, there are no Gryffindors allowed in the Ravenclaw facilities." She paused. "And I will personally drink tea with Merlin himself the day I will allow Gryffindor boys in the Ravenclaw girls' dorm. Potter, get out before I report you to the Headmaster."
"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry stammered contritely. "I assure you, this won't happen again."
"I should hope so, Potter. Dumbledore will be less than thrilled to hear about such an incident as this." She frowned at Harry, who skee-daddled. "And vice-versa, Ms. Hawkins. Have I made myself clear?" Phebe nodded. Harry slipped back into the room behind Professor McGonagall.
"I'm sorry, but I seem to have forgotten my glasses," said Harry apologetically. He located them, pointed his wand at the forgotten artifact and said, "Accio glasses!" The Gryffindor employed the summoning charm he had perfected in his fourth year at Hogwarts. The Professor did not look impressed as the glasses flew neatly into Harry's outstretched hand. "Sorry," he nodded sheepishly at the cross-looking teacher and scuttled out of the dorm.
McGonagall shut the door behind him. Hey eyes skimmed the disorderly room for a place to sit. Phebe went to Wera's desk chair and cleared it of laundry with a sweep of her hand.
"Why don't you have a seat, Professor?" she offered, then sat down on the bed and braced herself for the lecture of the century.
Professor McGonagall sat down gingerly on the chair. "This will not be reported to Dumbledore, of course. You mustn't think you two are the first Hogwarts students to disobey these rules." She paused. Phebe heaved a mental relieved sigh. "Please see to it that I do not catch you again." McGonagall's eyes twinkled momentarily. "I have not forgotten what it is like to be young." Then the sparkle disappeared. "Now then, Ms. Hawkins, the real cause for my visit concerns your roommate, Wera Ghrandol."
Phebe gasped. "Is .. is there something wrong?"
"It concerns Ms. Ghrandol and – Professor Finstad."
Phebe groaned inwardly. Did the whole school know?
"Were you aware – at any time – of them having an .. an affair?" asked Professor McGonagall. Phebe greeted her question with silence. "There would be consequences for their choices," McGonagall elaborated. "These would include Ms. Ghrandol being suspended and Professor Finstad being discharged from his service at Hogwarts."
Phebe hated euphemisms. "Not at all," she lied. Phebe did not want Wera to be suspended from school and she had no desire to see Finstad get sacked – especially if Snape was going to take over the intensive DADA course. "I've had no suspicions, whatsoever."
"I see," said McGonagall, pursing her lips. "I'm assuming I was incorrect in my supposition of the two them being involved." She looked around the messy, teen-infested room. The walls were clustered with posters and the floor was covered in a thick mat of laundry and junk food wrappers. "As long as nothing can be proven, there are no measure either I or the school can take."
"I see," said Phebe.
"However, if you could talk to Wera and call the consequences of such an event to attention," McGonagall continued, "then there should be no problem."
"I can try," Phebe said, realizing thankfully that the Professor had come to warn Phebe and not lecture her.
"Very well. I assume you will agree with me that our conversation should be held in confidence, as far as you see it possible," said Professor McGonagall, getting up from the chair.
"Of course," agreed Phebe, rising.
"And Ms. Hawkins," McGonagall added when she reached the door, "Get this mess cleaned up immediately."
"Yes, Professor," said Phebe obediently. She opened the door for the departing teacher. "Professor McGonagall," Phebe said. McGonagall turned to face her. "Thank you." The teacher smiled courteously and nodded.
Phebe flopped down on her bed after closing the door behind the Transfiguration teacher. Needless to say, she was very relieved. She sat up and frowned when the door opened again.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Psst, it's me," said Harry's voice. He was obviously wearing the cloak of invisibility. "What did she want? Are we in trouble?"
"Potter," came a shout from down the hall, "I hope you are no longer in the girls' dorm!"
"No, we're not," said Phebe quickly.
"Mean old hag! How does she know I'm still in here?" mumbled Harry from under the cloak with a hint of admiration in his tone.
"Potter!" McGonagall's voice yelled, "I will take fifty points from Gryffindor if you're still in there!"
"Shoot," whispered Harry and hurried out.
* * *
"Vanessa! Help me!" cried Sage. She was pacing the library.
"What's wrong?" asked Van concernedly.
"I need to get tickets for the Molotov concert. But where?" Sage clasped her hands in anxiety. "Oh, Vanessa, we have to go to that concert!"
"Relax," Van tried to assuage her. "Welcome to the wonderful world of IWN!" She pointed proudly in the direction of the one computer with IWN access the school possessed. Donny Thistle, a seventh-year Ravenclaw, and his Gryffindor friend, Billy Craven, were watching the computer screen with avid interest.
"Eye-double-you-what?" asked Sage.
"International Wizarding Network, IWN," explained Van. "You can go on the IWN and order the tickets online. We'll have them delivered to a post box in Hogsmeade." She grinned. "It's a piece of cake! Come on."
Vanessa guided Sage over to the PC. "Donny? Are you almost done with that?" She frowned in disgust when she caught a glimpse of the screen.
"Van? Can you tell me what's wrong with these Muggle pictures? Why aren't they moving, like normal ones?" Donny asked.
"Muggle pictures don't move," Van said. She was very glad they did not, because Donny and Billy had hacked onto what appeared to be a Muggle porn site. "This is not very appropriate at all. Get rid of it!"
"Ok, ok," Billy said, clicking out of the IWN.
"How in the world did you hack into the Muggle Network?" Van asked, bewildered.
"Oh, the advantages of being a skilled hacker are great," Donny flaunted. "Too bad the Muggle Network is not worth hacking into," he added regretfully.
"But where did you learn how to hack?" Van prodded.
"Acquired skills, I suppose," Donny smiled wilily.
"Right," said Van, pushing him lightly away from the PC. "My turn."
* * *
Hermione dropped a stack of books onto a table in the lounge. The mass emitted a thud and a cloud of dust. She wiped her hands on her robe and then sneezed.
"Oh, no," she said to Ron and Harry, bringing her hand up to her forehead. "I think I forgot my notes in the library. I'll be right back."
Harry and Ron shrugged. They sat down at the table. Ron sat diagonally across from Hermione's books and Harry sat just to the left of the immense pile. He pushed the books further toward the edge of the table with his right elbow.
"Ok," Harry said. "Now we have enough space." He took a rubber Muggle ball, roughly the size of a snitch out of his pocket and put it on the table. Harry folded his hands. "This is a rubber ball," he told Ron, who nodded attentively. "You can bounce it." Harry bounced the ball across the table to Ron. The redheaded Weasley watched it travel over the tabletop and fall off the edge.
"That's it?" he asked, taking no pains to hide his disapproval and disappointment.
"Ron!" said Harry, irritated. "You have to catch the damn thing!"
"I do?" queried a puzzled Ron. He was very glad he wasn't a Muggle. Life seemed so difficult and complicated for them. He admired those who could cope with it. And luckily, he was not one of them.
"Yes," Harry sighed. He crawled underneath the table and retrieved the Muggle toy. "Let's try this again."
"W-w-wait," said Ron, "I'm not so sure I want to write a paper on a rubber ball, after all." He had obviously lost interest in the simple Muggle plaything. "Isn't there anything more interesting?"
"We've already discussed this, Ron," Harry said through gritted teeth. "This is the simplest thing you can write your Muggle Studies essay on and still get some sort of credit."
"Hello," said Phebe, appearing suddenly. She was listening to a Muggle Discman. "Look," Phebe said, smiling happily. She turned the Discman over and opened the battery compartment. The batteries were sparkling. "Everlasting charge!"
Ron looked at the Discman curiously. "Hey, I could write about the .. the portable Muggle music thing!" he exclaimed.
"not a chance," said Phebe. "That's what I'm writing my paper about. This is research." She grinned.
"It's just not fair!" Ron whined. "You're half-Muggle. You've got the advantage."
Phebe smirked and shrugged. She took a seat in from of Hermione's tremendous pile of books. Ron continued to frown at her.
"Cheer up, Ron," she said. "Harry and me will help you with your essay." She studied the stack of materials in front of her. "Whose are these?"
"Mine," said Hermione, scowling at Phebe. "And that's my seat." She smacked her notes ostentatiously down on top of the books.
"Sorry," said Phebe. She climbed over Harry's lap to his other side to clear Hermione's space. "We have Arithmancy homework over vacation?" she asked Hermione, pointing at the heap of books that consisted primarily of Arithmancy guides and dictionaries.
"No," said Hermione curtly. "This is extra credit." She sat down. "Not like you would do the homework if we did have it," she added in a mumble.
"What?" asked Phebe.
"Nothing," Hermione jeered. "It's just that there are people who do their work and there are those that don't." She stared at Phebe pointedly.
Phebe bit her tongue, put on her earphones and looked away. Don't take the bait, she told herself, don't start a row. She was not about to pick a fight with Harry's best friend in front of him. There was no telling whose side he'd take. Harry had been friends with Hermione for over six years. She turned up the volume on her Discman to drone out Hermione's bickering.
Harry was absently bouncing the rubber ball on the table. Ron had picked up a copy of TeenWitch and was keenly reading the witches' beauty special on page 24. Hermione put her notes down in front of her and opened the first book to the index. She ran her finger down a column. The rubber ball bounced.
"Harry," Hermione said. "Please stop." Hermione favored absolute silence when she studied. Harry tucked the Muggle toy into his pocket obligingly. He folded his hands. Hermione sat and listened to the sweet silence for a few moments. Perfect. Satisfied, she continued flipping through the book.
"Hmm, hmm," hummed Phebe, "Cry me a river-er," she sang softly, tapping her fingers on the edge of the table in time to the music.
"Phebe," said Hermione harshly. She could feel her temples throbbing. Why was Phebe always so annoying? Phebe hummed. "Phebe." She hummed. Hermione sat up. "PHEBE!" she shouted. "Shut up, SHUT UP!"
"Ouch." said Harry, clutching his right ear. "That was loud."
Hermione grabbed the Arithmancy guide and heaved past Harry. It smacked Phebe on the shoulder.
"Hermione!" said Harry.
"Ow!" said Phebe loudly, pulling off her earphones and looking around for the offender. Hermione glared at her. "What did you do that for?"
"Shut up, Phebe," Hermione hissed, ignoring Harry. "Or do you not know how?"
"What?" flouted Phebe. "Why did you throw a book at me?"
"You were singing," Hermione spit. "And your voice annoys me."
Phebe picked up the book and threw it back at Hermione, who was too surprised to ward it off. "And yours annoys me."
Hermione swept the stack of books off the table in fury. Notes and papers scattered all over the floor. "Who are you to go throwing books at me?" she inquired angrily.
Harry and Ron stared at the girls in astonishment. Neither had ever seen them so riled up before.
"Who?" screamed Hermione, the build-up of two years of hate burst from her in two seconds. "WHO? You lowly, good-for-nothing bitch!"
"Hey," said Phebe, feeling outraged. Who was this swot to insult her like this? "I don't know what kind of half-baked fool you take me to be, Hermione, but I've taken your subtle hint. You obviously don't like me and for whatever Neanderthal, neurotic reason that may be, I'll just seize the day and tell you what I think of you."
"Phebe," cautioned Harry, "Please don't pick a fight."
"This is between me and this proletarian cunt here," Phebe said.
"What did you call me?" Hermione sneered. "You idiotic slut – where'd you learn those fancy words? I had no idea you could spell anything with more than six letters."
"Let's not get so pers–" started Ron.
"No," Phebe interrupted. "I'm not going to have an insipid, corrupt derelict undermining my intelligence. Not today and not ever." She pushed Harry gently out of her way and stepped up to face Hermione. "You should think twice before letting your capricious insidiousness judge people when you actually have no idea."
"Oh, shut up," Hermione hissed.
Phebe held her hands up in surrender. "I'm going to walk away now. You can't expect me to stoop to the level of intellectual indigence you seem to be vegetating on."
Phebe left the lounge and didn't look back. Her hands were shaking with anger. Hermione always had to be on top of everything and know more than everyone else. She was not stupid, Phebe granted Hermione that, but all her intelligence came from her over-the-top bookishness. She obviously had some very ineffectual people skills.
As she was crawling through the Ravenclaw portrait hole, Phebe realized she had forgotten her Discman with the charmed batteries in the lounge. She hoped Harry would remember it, because if a teacher found it, she'd surely get in trouble for enchanting a Muggle artifact.
* * *
"What was that?" Harry asked Hermione heatedly.
"She started it!" Hermione insisted, fuming.
"No," sneered Harry, "I saw you throwing a book at her first." Ron decided it would be wise to keep quiet.
"She was bothering me!" justified Hermione.
"Phebe was singing!" Harry countered. He knew Phebe did not sound particularly good when she sang, but it was certainly no reason to get violent. Gosh.
"What about all those mean things she said about me?" argued Hermione.
"You were both provoking each other," replied Harry. He grabbed Phebe's Discman, which was still running. "Now if you'll excuse me," he pushed gruffly past his best friend, "I have better things to do than to listen to you put my girlfriend down. Bye, Ron."
He put on Phebe's earphones. What's this? he thought, sounds like that Muggle boy-band spin-off, Lumberlake, or whatever his name was. At any rate, it was not his type of music.
Ron waved weakly at Harry's retreating frame and readied himself for the inevitable half-hour rant of rage that he was in for.
* * *
"Whoa," said Vanessa, when she caught sight of Phebe's face expression. Phebe had crept into the common room through the portrait hole. Her face was flushed, her big, dark-brown eyes brimming with tears. "What happened? What's wrong?"
Phebe got up and dusted off her knees. "Let's just say, Hermione and I have our little differences." Her eyes flooded. "I don't believe it! She threw a book at me and he didn't do anything!"
"Who?"
"Hermione!"
"Hermione didn't do anything?"
"No! Harry did nothing!" Enormous tears rolled down Phebe's pink cheeks. The corners of her mouth were turned down into a piteous frown. "He just sat there."
Van got up from her cozy seat in front of the warm Ravenclaw fire. She took Phebe's arm and led her back to the couch she'd been sitting on.
"Hermione threw a book at you?" she asked, amazed. Phebe nodded, sniffling. "Well, I sure hope you threw it back," Vanessa said. Phebe nodded again. "You did?" asked Vanessa, chuckling.
"Yes," said Phebe.
"Good job!" Van laughed.
* * *