Disclaimer: I don't own it. Life goes on.
A/N: Wow, so many people reviewed that last chapter! I'm so happy, I feel so loved! So, I'm thinking about writing a companion fic to this one, after I finish this one. . . you know, maybe one that goes into more detail about the Seamus/Lavender thing, and is told from their points of view. What do you think? Read and Review, as always.
Jishka: Ditto to you, you're my #1 supporter too! Hey that rhymes hehehe. Keep your chapters on When You're Older coming, can't wait for the next one. And email me!
Curls of Gold: It will be out tomorrow! I promise. Well, I can't promise, I might die or something, but I'll try to have this out by tomorrow. So actually, when you read this, it'll be today. . . does that make sense? Whatever. Thanks soooo much for reviewing!
RonsInnerVoice: Yeah, I try really hard to keep everyone in character, it's my main goal. . . I can't stand fanfiction where I barely recognize the characters. And the Seamus thing wasn't at all planned, all the sudden I was just *writing* it, and I was like, hey, cool! Thanks for reviewing!
To everyone else who has reviewed, thanks! I'm not forgetting you, these are just the people who have reviewed multiple times. But thanks all!
On with the chapter!
Ron yawned as sunlight filtered through his bed curtains. Morning already? He wondered groggily. He checked his watch, which he wore at all times, and saw that it was only seven o'clock. Ordinarily, he would've gone back to sleep, but today wasn't an ordinary day. Today was the day he was going to tell Hermione how he felt about her.
He got out of his bed, taking extra care to be quite, so as not to wake Harry. Hermione was reputed to be an early riser, so Ron intended to wash his face, comb his hair, get dressed, and greet her down in the common room before anyone else was awake. He sighed. If all went well, and he didn't lose his nerve, he would be the happiest student in Hogwarts.
Twenty minutes later, Ron was sitting down in the common room, wide-awake and waiting. It was only a matter of minutes before Hermione joined him. He fully expected her to be upset with him, but she seemed to be softly smiling.
"Good morning," he said quietly.
"You're up early," she replied, looking slightly surprised. He nodded and hesitated for a brief second.
"Look. . . about last night," he began awkwardly. "I didn't really. . .that is. . . I didn't mean. . .I lied, okay?" Up to that moment, Hermione's eyes had been fixed on her shoes, but they not looked hopefully up to his face.
"Do you mean. . . .?" she asked. He nodded, running a hand through his red hair and blushing.
"I. . . .like you. . . okay?" There, he had said it, and even with the knowledge that Hermione liked him back, it had still been the hardest thing he'd ever done.
"You do? Really?" He nodded again. Hermione flung herself at him, hugging him around the neck.
"Oh, Ron, I thought you never would, or at least never admit to it, and I was too embarrassed, but I feel the same, and oh. . . . I'm babbling, aren't I," she asked lightly pulling back from the hug, too soon in Ron's opinion.
"Yeah," he replied grinning. "Look, do you want to go eat breakfast or something?" he asked in an attempt to be polite. Hermione nodded.
"Breakfast would be great," she agreed.
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Seamus groaned and rolled over. Why was he awake at such a horrendous hour of the morning? He wondered. He had heard something. . . . .he listened, and could faintly hear the sound of Neville snoring. No, that wasn't it, he had been dealing with Neville for seven years. The water was left dripping in the bathroom, but again, that was a sound he was used to.
He got up and walked to the door. . .and then, he heard it, plain as the sunlight coming through the window. Someone was crying- right outside his door. He carefully opened it a crack, and recognized light brown hair, straight and fine, rumpled after a night's sleep.
"Lavender?" he whispered, gently pushing the door open wider so that he could step out. The slender girl started, and looked up at him, trying to hide her tearstained face, to no avail.
"Seamus," she whispered back.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed, not wanting to wake anyone else up at this ungodly hour.
At his question, Lavender turned away. "It's none of your business," she said, her reply somewhat muffled by her hands.
"It's MY dormitory," he pointed out. "I do have a right to know why you're crying outside the door of it." She shook her head stubbornly. "Oh, come on, Lav," he said, exasperated. "We've been friends since first year. What's this all about? Come tell Dr. Seamus about it, and he'll fix it all up," he added coaxingly. When he still got no reply, he stood up.
"Fine!" he cried softly, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'll just leave you here, for whoever the next person up is to find." At that Lavender turned to face him.
"It's you," she whispered so quietly Seamus had to strain to hear her. She was turning pink now, he noticed, and couldn't help wondering why he was the cause of her distress, and WHY she was sitting at the door to his dormitory. He decided to go for humor, which was usually his best bet.
"Let me guess. Every single girl you know has fallen for my extravagant charm and stunning good looks, and you are terribly lonely, so you have come to me, seeking comfort and friendship." THAT got a laugh out of her, if only a tiny giggle.
"Not exactly," she murmured. Seamus raised an eyebrow. "It's me that's fallen for you," she said under her breath. Unfortunately, Seamus caught some of it- only, he had the wrong order. He thought Lavender had whispered that he had fallen for her.
He gave a loud shout of laughter. Lavender's brow creased. "What's so funny?" she asked suspiciously, hoping against hope that he hadn't heard her.
"What- you- said," Seamus managed to get out between bouts of laughter. Lavender turned very red, and got up to leave, horribly embarrassed. However, Seamus stopped her.
"Just a minute, missy," he said. "I want to set you straight." Lavender stopped dead in her tracks, wondering what he meant. Was it. . . . could it be. . . . that Seamus hadn't really heard her?
"I haven't fallen for you, Lav, if that was what was upsetting you," he said kindly. "Although, I don't see how any girl would cry if I had fallen for them. I mean, come on, I, Seamus Finnigan, repelling girls? Never!" Lavender was starting to relax. He hadn't heard her. "Where did you find that out, anyway? If you ask me, your crystal ball needs some repairs or something." Lavender laughed outright.
"It was tea leaves, actually," she lied, covering for herself. If she could just work her way out of trouble, everything would be fine.
"I didn't know you bothered with tea leaves anymore, now that you've mastered palmistry and crystal-gazing." Lavender shrugged.
"It holds the best answers, on occasion," she replied.
"Oh, so you were GLAD that I had supposedly fallen for you?" Seamus asked shrewdly. Lavender could've hit herself for her stupid comment.
"Er. . . .please note that I said 'on occasion'. This did not happen to be one of those rare occasions." Seamus nodded doubtfully, letting her know that he thought otherwise.
"Whatever you say, Lav, whatever you say," he told her, grinning. "Now shoo, I've got to get dressed." He paused, taking in her dressing gown and slippers. "And so do you," he added. Lavender hurried off to her dormitory, mentally wiping her forehead, and congratulating herself on not revealing what she had really said. Seamus, meanwhile, was clapping himself on the back for not revealing HIS feeling for Lavender. . . .
"Wait a minute," Seamus said out loud. "WHAT feelings? I DON'T like Lavender, it's as simple as that."
"Don't be so sure," the bathroom mirror said to him, causing him to jump. He turned on the tap, letting the hot water gush out.
"Shuttup," he muttered angrily at the mirror. "I forgot that you talk."
************************************************************************
Harry yawned.and sat bolt upright. He struggled to reach his watch on his bedside table, and read that it was quarter past ten. He threw the watch on the ground furiously.
"Bloody hell," he cursed. Quidditch practice had begun fifteen minutes ago, and the final match was the next weekend. What would the team think if their captain arrived late? Harry was willing to bet that it wouldn't be positive.
He leapt out of bed, ran to the bathroom, splashed cold water onto his face, and pulled on his Quidditch practice robes. Once he was dressed, he grabbed his broomstick and pelted down the stairs and out the portrait hole, heading for the Great Hall to grab a piece of toast. He couldn't practice on an empty stomach.
However, when he reached the Great Hall, he saw a sight that made his stomach drop. It was Ron and Hermione, each grinning goofily at the other. No. . . .he thought. This isn't happening. . . . it wasn't that he didn't want them to go out. He did. It was just that now they were probably both mad at him, and now it was two against one.
But Harry didn't have time to stand there and mull it over. He continued his run to the Gryffindor table, grabbed a piece of toast and some bacon from the end farthest from his two friends, and rushed out to the Quidditch pitch, stuffing his breakfast in his mouth. As he reached the team, he realized that there were only five players awaiting him.
"Oh yeah. . . ." he muttered. "Ron's in there, with Hermione." Lovely. Harry was quite tempted to go in there and break up their little Look- Lovingly-At-Each-Other fest, but he knew that the two of them would only get madder at him. He decided to give Ron a long lecture about missing practice later. For now, he had the rest of the team to contend with.
"Beaters!" Harry barked as he walked up. If he sounded very authoritative, perhaps no one would mention his tardiness. "Target practice, now! We need you to be able to throw Slytherin's seeker off course with those Bludgers, and you've got a long way to go." Dean Thomas scowled at him, while Seamus went to get the targets, muttering darkly about overwork.
"Chasers, I want you to practice shooting on our Keeper. That way, you'll all be improving." Ginny, the Keeper, nodded and mounted her broom, taking a practice loop around the goal posts, then settling in front of the middle one. The Creevey brothers mounted their brooms too, grabbing the quaffle on their way. Ron, the other Chaser, wasn't present.
Harry then let the Snitch out to catch. "Well, if this doesn't take my mind off things, nothing will," he muttered to himself.
***********************************************************************
Hermione and Ron chatted happily over eggs and toast, both trying to act as though everything was normal (except they weren't fighting) but both ended up grinning like idiots.
He DOES like me! Hermione's mind was shouting. It was too good to be true. And she was right, she suddenly realized: it WAS too good to be true. If Ron ever found out she had cheated to help him win those galleons. . . well, Hermione had a suspicion their relationship wouldn't last much longer.
Ron was laughing at something Hermione had said when he saw her eyes widen suddenly. She leaped up.
"Er, Ron, I've got to go talk to Professor Dumbledore about something. . . meet you in the common room!" And with that, she dashed out of the Great Hall. Ron watched her go, bewildered. Had he said something?
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When Lavender got down to breakfast, she noticed Parvati sitting alone. "Where's Dean?" she automatically asked, sitting down next to the dark- haired girl and grabbing a plate.
"Quidditch practice," Parvati snapped. Lavender sensed a touchy subject.
"Yeah, and?"
"What do you mean?" Parvati asked, knowing perfectly well what she meant but not wanting to say it.
"Did you two have a fight or something?" Lavender asked. Parvati shook her head emphatically, then slowly nodded.
"Sort of. I asked him why he couldn't just skip a few minutes of Quidditch to have breakfast with me, since Ron obviously was, but NO, Quidditch is his first priority."
"Listen, Vati, he probably just doesn't want to get in trouble. . . you know Harry, he takes his captain responsibilities so seriously! It's no big deal. Why don't you just go out there and watch the practice or something, and eat lunch with him?" It looked as if a light was going on in Parvati's head.
"Good idea. Want to come? You know, to watch Sea-mus," she said, adding a bit of a sing-song lilt to Seamus's name. Lavender blushed, remembering the incident that morning, but didn't back down. Hermione had Ron, Parvati had Dean, and she was alone. Not for long, if she could help it!
"Yes, let's go." And with that, the two girls set off to the Quidditch pitch.
************************************************************************
Ron was halfway up to his dormitory when he remembered that he was an hour late for Quidditch practice.
"Bloody hell!" He swore furiously, grabbing his Cleansweep 7, and setting off at a run to the pitch. "Harry's going to kill me," he muttered. He checked his watch. At least he would be there for the last two hours of practice. He pushed himself to go faster, forgetting all about his promise to meet Hermione in the common room.
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Hermione arrived at Professor Dumbledore's office slightly out of breath. She gave the password (cockroach cluster) and stepped on the moving staircase, allowing it to carry her up to Dumbledore's office. She knocked on his door.
"Come in," he called, and she opened the door, suddenly realizing she didn't know what she was going to say.
"Er, Professor, there's something I've got to tell you. . . ." Dumbledore nodded, motioning for her to sit down and continue. This she did. "When we were taking our last N.E.W.T.S. test, I, well, er. . . .I cheated. Not to win, mind you! To lose.
"You see, I realized that Ron deserved the galleons more than I did, as you know, and, well. . . cheated. I put the wrong answer down, in hopes that he would win. But now we're tied, and I don't know what to do! And if Ron ever finds out-" Hermione broke off.
"I see," Dumbledore said delicately. "A difficult situation. I was planning on having you take a tiebreaker, but I see now that that wouldn't be fair, you'd only cheat again. . ." Hermione turned crimson. He must think I'm a liar and cheater now! She thought.
"Just give the galleons to Ron," she pleaded. "I don't want them, I really don't."
"I am aware of that, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, silencing her. She winced. She wasn't usually the one being silenced. "However, there are the circumstances. . . just giving the galleons to Ron would hurt his pride. I assumed you realized that. . ." Hermione reddened yet again.
"You could. . . .say that you miscounted, and Ron really won," she suggested, but Dumbledore stamped on that one.
"I will not lie, Miss Granger, it is against my moral values. I could, perhaps, give them to the second place winner. . ." he paused, checking his files. "Ah, no, that was a tie also."
"Between who?" Hermione asked, curious.
"Padma Patil, and Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as Hermione made a face.
Hermione suddenly noticed the time. "Listen Professor, I need to go, I just. . . .thought you should know." Dumbledore nodded and dismissed her. Hermione hurried up to Gryffindor tower, only to find that Ron wasn't there. She asked a first year if anyone had seen him.
"He left in a hurry about ten minutes ago," the first year informed her. Hermione stared at the girl, thunderstruck. 'Left in a hurry. . . .?' But. . . that would mean he didn't want to see her! Hermione sank into a poofy armchair, fishing for possible reasons why Ron might've left.
Did he know?
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A/N: And I'm going to have to leave it here for tonight! Thank me, cos I'm going to have to get up at like five o'clock to do all the homework I wasn't doing while writing this. Please review!
A/N: Wow, so many people reviewed that last chapter! I'm so happy, I feel so loved! So, I'm thinking about writing a companion fic to this one, after I finish this one. . . you know, maybe one that goes into more detail about the Seamus/Lavender thing, and is told from their points of view. What do you think? Read and Review, as always.
Jishka: Ditto to you, you're my #1 supporter too! Hey that rhymes hehehe. Keep your chapters on When You're Older coming, can't wait for the next one. And email me!
Curls of Gold: It will be out tomorrow! I promise. Well, I can't promise, I might die or something, but I'll try to have this out by tomorrow. So actually, when you read this, it'll be today. . . does that make sense? Whatever. Thanks soooo much for reviewing!
RonsInnerVoice: Yeah, I try really hard to keep everyone in character, it's my main goal. . . I can't stand fanfiction where I barely recognize the characters. And the Seamus thing wasn't at all planned, all the sudden I was just *writing* it, and I was like, hey, cool! Thanks for reviewing!
To everyone else who has reviewed, thanks! I'm not forgetting you, these are just the people who have reviewed multiple times. But thanks all!
On with the chapter!
Ron yawned as sunlight filtered through his bed curtains. Morning already? He wondered groggily. He checked his watch, which he wore at all times, and saw that it was only seven o'clock. Ordinarily, he would've gone back to sleep, but today wasn't an ordinary day. Today was the day he was going to tell Hermione how he felt about her.
He got out of his bed, taking extra care to be quite, so as not to wake Harry. Hermione was reputed to be an early riser, so Ron intended to wash his face, comb his hair, get dressed, and greet her down in the common room before anyone else was awake. He sighed. If all went well, and he didn't lose his nerve, he would be the happiest student in Hogwarts.
Twenty minutes later, Ron was sitting down in the common room, wide-awake and waiting. It was only a matter of minutes before Hermione joined him. He fully expected her to be upset with him, but she seemed to be softly smiling.
"Good morning," he said quietly.
"You're up early," she replied, looking slightly surprised. He nodded and hesitated for a brief second.
"Look. . . about last night," he began awkwardly. "I didn't really. . .that is. . . I didn't mean. . .I lied, okay?" Up to that moment, Hermione's eyes had been fixed on her shoes, but they not looked hopefully up to his face.
"Do you mean. . . .?" she asked. He nodded, running a hand through his red hair and blushing.
"I. . . .like you. . . okay?" There, he had said it, and even with the knowledge that Hermione liked him back, it had still been the hardest thing he'd ever done.
"You do? Really?" He nodded again. Hermione flung herself at him, hugging him around the neck.
"Oh, Ron, I thought you never would, or at least never admit to it, and I was too embarrassed, but I feel the same, and oh. . . . I'm babbling, aren't I," she asked lightly pulling back from the hug, too soon in Ron's opinion.
"Yeah," he replied grinning. "Look, do you want to go eat breakfast or something?" he asked in an attempt to be polite. Hermione nodded.
"Breakfast would be great," she agreed.
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Seamus groaned and rolled over. Why was he awake at such a horrendous hour of the morning? He wondered. He had heard something. . . . .he listened, and could faintly hear the sound of Neville snoring. No, that wasn't it, he had been dealing with Neville for seven years. The water was left dripping in the bathroom, but again, that was a sound he was used to.
He got up and walked to the door. . .and then, he heard it, plain as the sunlight coming through the window. Someone was crying- right outside his door. He carefully opened it a crack, and recognized light brown hair, straight and fine, rumpled after a night's sleep.
"Lavender?" he whispered, gently pushing the door open wider so that he could step out. The slender girl started, and looked up at him, trying to hide her tearstained face, to no avail.
"Seamus," she whispered back.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed, not wanting to wake anyone else up at this ungodly hour.
At his question, Lavender turned away. "It's none of your business," she said, her reply somewhat muffled by her hands.
"It's MY dormitory," he pointed out. "I do have a right to know why you're crying outside the door of it." She shook her head stubbornly. "Oh, come on, Lav," he said, exasperated. "We've been friends since first year. What's this all about? Come tell Dr. Seamus about it, and he'll fix it all up," he added coaxingly. When he still got no reply, he stood up.
"Fine!" he cried softly, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'll just leave you here, for whoever the next person up is to find." At that Lavender turned to face him.
"It's you," she whispered so quietly Seamus had to strain to hear her. She was turning pink now, he noticed, and couldn't help wondering why he was the cause of her distress, and WHY she was sitting at the door to his dormitory. He decided to go for humor, which was usually his best bet.
"Let me guess. Every single girl you know has fallen for my extravagant charm and stunning good looks, and you are terribly lonely, so you have come to me, seeking comfort and friendship." THAT got a laugh out of her, if only a tiny giggle.
"Not exactly," she murmured. Seamus raised an eyebrow. "It's me that's fallen for you," she said under her breath. Unfortunately, Seamus caught some of it- only, he had the wrong order. He thought Lavender had whispered that he had fallen for her.
He gave a loud shout of laughter. Lavender's brow creased. "What's so funny?" she asked suspiciously, hoping against hope that he hadn't heard her.
"What- you- said," Seamus managed to get out between bouts of laughter. Lavender turned very red, and got up to leave, horribly embarrassed. However, Seamus stopped her.
"Just a minute, missy," he said. "I want to set you straight." Lavender stopped dead in her tracks, wondering what he meant. Was it. . . . could it be. . . . that Seamus hadn't really heard her?
"I haven't fallen for you, Lav, if that was what was upsetting you," he said kindly. "Although, I don't see how any girl would cry if I had fallen for them. I mean, come on, I, Seamus Finnigan, repelling girls? Never!" Lavender was starting to relax. He hadn't heard her. "Where did you find that out, anyway? If you ask me, your crystal ball needs some repairs or something." Lavender laughed outright.
"It was tea leaves, actually," she lied, covering for herself. If she could just work her way out of trouble, everything would be fine.
"I didn't know you bothered with tea leaves anymore, now that you've mastered palmistry and crystal-gazing." Lavender shrugged.
"It holds the best answers, on occasion," she replied.
"Oh, so you were GLAD that I had supposedly fallen for you?" Seamus asked shrewdly. Lavender could've hit herself for her stupid comment.
"Er. . . .please note that I said 'on occasion'. This did not happen to be one of those rare occasions." Seamus nodded doubtfully, letting her know that he thought otherwise.
"Whatever you say, Lav, whatever you say," he told her, grinning. "Now shoo, I've got to get dressed." He paused, taking in her dressing gown and slippers. "And so do you," he added. Lavender hurried off to her dormitory, mentally wiping her forehead, and congratulating herself on not revealing what she had really said. Seamus, meanwhile, was clapping himself on the back for not revealing HIS feeling for Lavender. . . .
"Wait a minute," Seamus said out loud. "WHAT feelings? I DON'T like Lavender, it's as simple as that."
"Don't be so sure," the bathroom mirror said to him, causing him to jump. He turned on the tap, letting the hot water gush out.
"Shuttup," he muttered angrily at the mirror. "I forgot that you talk."
************************************************************************
Harry yawned.and sat bolt upright. He struggled to reach his watch on his bedside table, and read that it was quarter past ten. He threw the watch on the ground furiously.
"Bloody hell," he cursed. Quidditch practice had begun fifteen minutes ago, and the final match was the next weekend. What would the team think if their captain arrived late? Harry was willing to bet that it wouldn't be positive.
He leapt out of bed, ran to the bathroom, splashed cold water onto his face, and pulled on his Quidditch practice robes. Once he was dressed, he grabbed his broomstick and pelted down the stairs and out the portrait hole, heading for the Great Hall to grab a piece of toast. He couldn't practice on an empty stomach.
However, when he reached the Great Hall, he saw a sight that made his stomach drop. It was Ron and Hermione, each grinning goofily at the other. No. . . .he thought. This isn't happening. . . . it wasn't that he didn't want them to go out. He did. It was just that now they were probably both mad at him, and now it was two against one.
But Harry didn't have time to stand there and mull it over. He continued his run to the Gryffindor table, grabbed a piece of toast and some bacon from the end farthest from his two friends, and rushed out to the Quidditch pitch, stuffing his breakfast in his mouth. As he reached the team, he realized that there were only five players awaiting him.
"Oh yeah. . . ." he muttered. "Ron's in there, with Hermione." Lovely. Harry was quite tempted to go in there and break up their little Look- Lovingly-At-Each-Other fest, but he knew that the two of them would only get madder at him. He decided to give Ron a long lecture about missing practice later. For now, he had the rest of the team to contend with.
"Beaters!" Harry barked as he walked up. If he sounded very authoritative, perhaps no one would mention his tardiness. "Target practice, now! We need you to be able to throw Slytherin's seeker off course with those Bludgers, and you've got a long way to go." Dean Thomas scowled at him, while Seamus went to get the targets, muttering darkly about overwork.
"Chasers, I want you to practice shooting on our Keeper. That way, you'll all be improving." Ginny, the Keeper, nodded and mounted her broom, taking a practice loop around the goal posts, then settling in front of the middle one. The Creevey brothers mounted their brooms too, grabbing the quaffle on their way. Ron, the other Chaser, wasn't present.
Harry then let the Snitch out to catch. "Well, if this doesn't take my mind off things, nothing will," he muttered to himself.
***********************************************************************
Hermione and Ron chatted happily over eggs and toast, both trying to act as though everything was normal (except they weren't fighting) but both ended up grinning like idiots.
He DOES like me! Hermione's mind was shouting. It was too good to be true. And she was right, she suddenly realized: it WAS too good to be true. If Ron ever found out she had cheated to help him win those galleons. . . well, Hermione had a suspicion their relationship wouldn't last much longer.
Ron was laughing at something Hermione had said when he saw her eyes widen suddenly. She leaped up.
"Er, Ron, I've got to go talk to Professor Dumbledore about something. . . meet you in the common room!" And with that, she dashed out of the Great Hall. Ron watched her go, bewildered. Had he said something?
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When Lavender got down to breakfast, she noticed Parvati sitting alone. "Where's Dean?" she automatically asked, sitting down next to the dark- haired girl and grabbing a plate.
"Quidditch practice," Parvati snapped. Lavender sensed a touchy subject.
"Yeah, and?"
"What do you mean?" Parvati asked, knowing perfectly well what she meant but not wanting to say it.
"Did you two have a fight or something?" Lavender asked. Parvati shook her head emphatically, then slowly nodded.
"Sort of. I asked him why he couldn't just skip a few minutes of Quidditch to have breakfast with me, since Ron obviously was, but NO, Quidditch is his first priority."
"Listen, Vati, he probably just doesn't want to get in trouble. . . you know Harry, he takes his captain responsibilities so seriously! It's no big deal. Why don't you just go out there and watch the practice or something, and eat lunch with him?" It looked as if a light was going on in Parvati's head.
"Good idea. Want to come? You know, to watch Sea-mus," she said, adding a bit of a sing-song lilt to Seamus's name. Lavender blushed, remembering the incident that morning, but didn't back down. Hermione had Ron, Parvati had Dean, and she was alone. Not for long, if she could help it!
"Yes, let's go." And with that, the two girls set off to the Quidditch pitch.
************************************************************************
Ron was halfway up to his dormitory when he remembered that he was an hour late for Quidditch practice.
"Bloody hell!" He swore furiously, grabbing his Cleansweep 7, and setting off at a run to the pitch. "Harry's going to kill me," he muttered. He checked his watch. At least he would be there for the last two hours of practice. He pushed himself to go faster, forgetting all about his promise to meet Hermione in the common room.
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Hermione arrived at Professor Dumbledore's office slightly out of breath. She gave the password (cockroach cluster) and stepped on the moving staircase, allowing it to carry her up to Dumbledore's office. She knocked on his door.
"Come in," he called, and she opened the door, suddenly realizing she didn't know what she was going to say.
"Er, Professor, there's something I've got to tell you. . . ." Dumbledore nodded, motioning for her to sit down and continue. This she did. "When we were taking our last N.E.W.T.S. test, I, well, er. . . .I cheated. Not to win, mind you! To lose.
"You see, I realized that Ron deserved the galleons more than I did, as you know, and, well. . . cheated. I put the wrong answer down, in hopes that he would win. But now we're tied, and I don't know what to do! And if Ron ever finds out-" Hermione broke off.
"I see," Dumbledore said delicately. "A difficult situation. I was planning on having you take a tiebreaker, but I see now that that wouldn't be fair, you'd only cheat again. . ." Hermione turned crimson. He must think I'm a liar and cheater now! She thought.
"Just give the galleons to Ron," she pleaded. "I don't want them, I really don't."
"I am aware of that, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, silencing her. She winced. She wasn't usually the one being silenced. "However, there are the circumstances. . . just giving the galleons to Ron would hurt his pride. I assumed you realized that. . ." Hermione reddened yet again.
"You could. . . .say that you miscounted, and Ron really won," she suggested, but Dumbledore stamped on that one.
"I will not lie, Miss Granger, it is against my moral values. I could, perhaps, give them to the second place winner. . ." he paused, checking his files. "Ah, no, that was a tie also."
"Between who?" Hermione asked, curious.
"Padma Patil, and Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as Hermione made a face.
Hermione suddenly noticed the time. "Listen Professor, I need to go, I just. . . .thought you should know." Dumbledore nodded and dismissed her. Hermione hurried up to Gryffindor tower, only to find that Ron wasn't there. She asked a first year if anyone had seen him.
"He left in a hurry about ten minutes ago," the first year informed her. Hermione stared at the girl, thunderstruck. 'Left in a hurry. . . .?' But. . . that would mean he didn't want to see her! Hermione sank into a poofy armchair, fishing for possible reasons why Ron might've left.
Did he know?
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A/N: And I'm going to have to leave it here for tonight! Thank me, cos I'm going to have to get up at like five o'clock to do all the homework I wasn't doing while writing this. Please review!