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Chapter 2- Harry Potter Action Figures?
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"Well, well, well, what have we here?" the voice drawled lazily.
All three once friends momentarily stopped their fight, each one engaged in very awkward positions, and looked up at the producer of the voice.
It was Malfoy being shadowed closely by his two ever-present sidekicks Crabbe and Goyle. His face was set in scornful delight as he surveyed them coldly, his mouth a taunting smirk. "My, my such vulgar behavior! What you Gryffindors do in public!" He shook his head in pretend disgust. His Prefect badge flashed on his chest as he walked closer to them.
Ron had grabbed onto Harry's neck during the fight, but let go when he saw Malfoy. "Shove off, Malfoy!" he snarled while Harry gasped in relief.
"Oh dear me, violent too. What ever will Dumbledore think of all this?" Malfoy's eyes met Harry's, and his smirk widened.
"You probably should pull your robe back on, Potter. Just imagine what people would think if they saw you three this instant. Why, you could be expelled." The mocking concern fooled no one.
Reddening, Harry quickly jerked his arm through his robe's sleeve again. He straightened his glasses that had fallen askew from their fight and tried to pull himself out from under Ron and Hermione. Unfortunately, a threatening growl from Hermione made him reconsider.
"The only thing we'd ever get expelled for is beating the tar out of you, Malfoy," Ron growled threatening. He let go of Harry entirely and got to his feet from the ground. This gave Hermione an opportunity to cling closer to Harry. Ron's fists clinched as he headed Malfoy off. Both of the boys stopped a few feet away from each other, and Malfoy held out a warning hand.
"Beating the tar out of me won't make me forget what I've seen, Weasley," he stated coolly, "unfortunately for you."
Ron's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about, Malfoy?"
"You, Potter, and Granger sprawled out on the floor, Potter's clothes half off, Granger making weird cat noises... Please, Weasley, I wasn't born yesterday."
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled contemptuously.
"To tell you the truth, I'm rather surprised," Malfoy said in a lazy drawl, backed by his friends' appreciative laughs. "Here I thought you couldn't sink any lower by going out with the Mudblood, Granger, but now you prove me wrong by going after Potty here too."
"Hey, my name's not Potty!" Harry yelled indignantly. He raised halfway from the ground, but was stopped by Hermione who dug her claw-...uh…nails into his arm. He sighed and sunk back down on the ground, submitting himself to having his hair played with again. He hoped that Malfoy wasn't noticing this.
Ron glared at Malfoy in disgust. "You have a sick mind, Malfoy," he stated angrily.
"Really? It seems to me that you're the one rolling around on the ground, not me."
Ron looked as if he couldn't turn any redder. "Why don't you go off and snog your reflection somewhere!" he snapped.
Malfoy opened his mouth to retort something back, but was interrupted.
"Is anything wrong over here?" Professor McGonagall asked coolly.
The whole group whirled around in surprise and stared at the gray-haired witch. She was standing over them, surveying them severely with her handed clasped behind her back.
Harry yanked Hermione's hand away from his hair, but she merely used the other, running her fingers though his hair with a dreamy look on her face. Harry smiled uneasily up at McGonagall, who appeared to have noticed the whole thing. "Um, hello there, Professor," he greeted, attempting to look casual.
"Hello there, Potter," McGonagall said back. "Would you mind explaining to me what you and Ms. Granger are doing on the floor there?"
"Er...." Harry reddened Hermione's hand was creeping down his neck now.
McGonagall raised her eyebrows at Harry expectantly.
"I er, I mean, we are... um... you see, rehearsing for a, umm… a play that we are doing for... er... some of the Gryffindors," Harry lied.
Ron looked at Harry oddly, and he inwardly kicked himself. Honestly, it that the best I could come up with?
McGonagall eyed them suspiciously. "A play, huh?" she asked Harry, clearly not buying it. "And why, prey tell, are you practicing this play in the middle of the hall?"
"Er, Malfoy was wanting to see it?" Harry tried.
"I don't think so, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall stated sarcastically. "Now get up from that ground immediately and return to the Great Hall before I take points away from Gryffindor."
Harry gave McGonagall a looked that clearely said he'd rather not attempt to. "Yes, Professor," he complied. He attempted to gently pull Hermione off him, but she clung even tighter to him. A warning growl elected from her throat as he squirmed. "Er..." Harry looked sheepishly up at McGonagall with his neck practically in a headlock under Hermione's arms, "Can I go a bit later?"
McGonagall gave Hermione one of her best reproachful glances. "Mr. Granger, you heard me. Release Mr. Potter at once."
Hermione shook her head in clear refusal at McGonagall, her bushy hair flapping around her face as she squeezed Harry's arm tighter. Harry winced. His hand was starting to go a bit numb.
McGonagall looked scandalized. Harry was sure that never in McGonagall's years of teaching, had Hermione ever disobeyed her. "Ms. Granger, take your hands off Potter this instant before I deduct five points from Gryffindor," she warned.
Hermione snuggled closer to Harry. There was a distinct choking sound of fury from Ron. Malfoy was looked amusedly at him while Crabbe and Goyle, merely confused as to what was going on.
McGonagall took an involuntary step back in shock at Hermione's rebellious behavior. She screwed up her face and put on her best you're-in-big-trouble-now look. "Five points from Gryffindor!" she shouted loudly, waiting for the effect of her words to sink in.
Hermione's face didn't change an iota. She looked at McGonagall defiantly, clinging even harder to Harry. Harry felt very similar to a rag doll by then.
Ron was looking like he had just been force-feed Blast-ended skrewt dung while Malfoy was looking as if he had just been named Minister of Magic.
McGonagall was only looking upset. She glared down at Hermione wrathfully. "Very well then... ten points then from Gryffindor!" she said wrathfully.
Hermione yawned.
McGonagall reeled back in alarm. She stared at Hermione as if she had gone mad. Her specticals had fallen low on the ridge of her nose, but she didn't push them back up. She seemed to be doing some fast thinking. A look of sudden comprehension dawned on her.
She turned on her heels towards Malfoy, who was attempting to stifle a laugh behind his hand. "And twenty points from Slytherin!" she said so forcefully that Malfoy stumbled back.
Malfoy's face and hand fell. He looked at McGonagall in astonishment. "What! But what did I do?" he demanded, furiously.
McGonagall was breathing through flared nostrils, ominously. "I'll tell you what you did. You put a Transitus Proparus jinx on Ms. Granger, didn't you, Mr. Malfoy?" she accused.
Malfoy gaped at her. "A transy-what?!"
"Don't play games with me, Malfoy!" she stated angrily. "I know that Ms. Granger doesn't behave this way to a teacher. I should say I'm impressed though. A character modifying spell is far more advanced magic then I'd expect for you to be able to do."
"B-But---" Malfoy was, for once, lost for words. His gray eyes were fixed in fear and fury on McGonagall.
Ron seemed to be catching on, and an evil expression was coming over his face. "Oh, come off it now, Malfoy," he said, turning the groups attention to him. "It's obvious that Prefessor McGonagall's caught you. Why don't you just come clean already?"
Malfoy gave Ron a glare of absolute loathing. "Why you--" he began. He hand went to his wand, but McGonagall seized his arm and yanked it firmly away. "Detention for that one, Mr. Malfoy. I will not have any pupils of mine drawing their wands at others while I'm around."
"But--"
"Now come along then, Ms. Granger," McGonagall said. She dragged Malfoy with her and took a hold of Hermione's arm. "To the infirmary, then. We'll see what Madam Pomfrey can do for you."
Hermione clung to Harry desperately while he coughed loudly as she squeezed his throat tightly with her arm.
McGonagall frowned again. "Did you hear me, Ms. Granger. Here, Potter, help me get her off you."
It was then her hand brushed against the top of Harry's head. She jerked it back as if Harry's head had burned her.
She then suddenly froze as a peculiar expression over took her.
"Oh my….." she muttered. She let go of Malfoy's arm. He instantly skirted away from her as she placed her free hand softly on her withered cheek. A misty eyed look over came her, and she kept muttering over and over again: "Oh my, oh my, oh my," in a strangely high voice.
Harry felt sickness in his stomach once again. McGonagall straightened her specticals and fixed him with a very unfriendly gaze. No, it was worse then being merely 'friendly' it was the type gaze he had seen his Uncle Vernon give his Aunt Petunia when he'd had too much to drink. It was the gaze that said all too clearly 'I want you now oh baby, baby, baby'
'This could be a bit of a bad thing…' Harry thought desperately to himself. His right hand was reaching automatically for the wand in his pocket. His fingers closed tightly over it, and he brought it out, pointing it warningly at McGonagall.
Warning noticed, McGonagall took out her own wand.
Oh, shit…
"E-Expello!" Harry shouted, throwing caution to the wind.
The banishing spell hit McGonagall hard and threw her back into Malfoy who gave a mouse like squeak before he was knocked completely over and crushed.
With strength he did not know he possessed (or he did, just never had as much of an excuse before), Harry tore himself away from Hermione, who let out a protesting hiss and raised his wand at her. "Now, I'm warning you, Hermione. Stay back!" he said in panic.
Hermione didn't look about ready to listen to Harry, and Harry knew it. He backed up, turned, and ran for his life down the hallway Ginny had disappeared down.
McGonagall, recovered from the spell, leaped up from the ground and ran after him, along with Hermione, who's eyes were alit with a strange yellow glow.
Malfoy layed where he was, momentarily winded from where the Professor had stepped on him in her haste. "Oy, Weasley," he called, rolling his head over to look at Ron who was staring at the retreating figures with his mouth open. "D'you suppose there's something Potter isn't telling us?"
"Yep," Ron said, forcing his gapping mouth shut. "You into finding out what?" he asked.
"For once I think I am, Weasley. This looks like an excellent opportunity for blackmail if I ever saw one."