Chapter 11: Mixed Blessings



Things began to settle down again the rest of the week. The Hogsmeade visit had been pushed back two weeks, to allow time for the first Quidditch match of the season: Ravenclaw against Gryffindor. Hermoine saw very little of her three friends that week. They all were at the pitch practicing almost constantly. Hermoine hoped that Ron made it over Patrice. As much as she liked Patrice, everything seemed to come easy to her. She was good at everything. Ron was so average, constantly under the shadows of his older brothers. It just wouldn't be fair if he never got to shine at anything.

It was late the Friday night before the match. Hermoine and Patrice were down in the common room. They had just finished Snape's essay about the improper use of cauldrons. Hermoine wasn't usually the competitive type, but when Patrice proposed that they would race to see who could write the fastest essay over three parchment pieces in length, Hermoine just couldn't resist. Surprisingly, both were done at almost the exact same time.

"Well, I guess the only fair way to see who wins is to let Snape decide," Patrice suggested. Hermoine groaned. Snape was the only teacher who gave her marks below her 90 % average. However, he seemed to hate Patrice as much as he hated her.

"Sounds fair," Hermoine replied with a smile.

Hermoine and Patrice were the only ones in the common room now. Supper had begun.

"Patrice, do you mind if I ask you something," Hermoine began. Patrice smiled.

"Not at all. Go ahead."

"You told Malfoy you were pure blood. Is that true?" A odd shadow crossed Patrice''s face. Her smile flickered for a moment.

"It's true. I guess you're wondering about the Mars bars, eh?" Hermoine nodded. "It's simple, really. My step father is a muggle. My mother, who was an Auror when she got pregnant with me, traveled all over Europe, trying to stop the Dark Lord. She met a handsome wizard here, and I was the result." Patrice shrugged self-consciously. "I haven't seen my father since I was a baby."

Hermoine suddenly felt bad for asking.

"I came here to scout out the suburbs of London over Christmas break," Patrice revealed. "My step father got a transfer here. My mom's out fighting You-Know-Who. As much as I loved my old school, I wanted to come to the legendary Hogwarts so I could be close to my fathers." She smiled, but Hermoine could see tears in her eyes. She put a comforting hand on Patrice's shoulder. Patrice looked over at her.

"You won't tell anyone, will you? I don't want to be the subject of rumours."

"I won't," promised Hermoine.

"Thanks. You're a true friend. I wish, I wish I had as good friends as you, that my parents were happily married." She wiped her tears away. "I wish I was you."



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There was a lot of excitement in the common room down below. Hermoine went down to see what all the commotion was about. Some people sounded confused. She couldn't make out what they were saying through the thick stone walls. She hadn't slept well last night, and the early morning noise was not helping her mood.

Patrice held something for all of the students to see.

"Pettigew sighted by muggles, mother," she read in a disgusted voice. "Black's sentence to be overturned." Hermoine's heart leapt. On the front page was a muggle-picture of Pettigew, in his human form.

Hermoine quickly sought out Harry and Ron. Ron through his arms around Hermoine.

"It's true then?" she whispered.

"It's true," replied Ron. "I got an owl from Percy. He wasn't happy. He wanted me to warn Harry. Of course, he's known for three weeks, and he didn't tell me." Ron's mood was too good for his face to fall. "Bless muggles!"

Most people seemed confused by Harry's grin. They expected him to be terrified. He was elated. Patrice, however, looked fit to destroy something. She came over. Hermoine quickly hid her smile.

"Mark my words, Hermoine, this is not a good thing. Someone doesn't show up after being thought dead for 14 years." Hermoine blinked in surprise. She had a point. Patrice didn't know the whole story, that Harry had saved Pettigew's life, but she had a very valid point. Had Pettigew grown careless sense becoming a human again, or was Voldemort trying to send them a message?



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Hermoine was surprised to see Ron out in the stands as she made her way out to the field. Her heart sank. So Patrice had been chosen for the team.

"Hi Hermoine," he said. He still looked happy.

"Aren't you mad that Patrice got your place?" Hermoine asked. Ron shook his head.

"Sirius might be free soon. This doesn't matter. Besides, I'd rather be a Beater. That position will be opening up next year, with Fred and George gone." Hermoine was surprised at the mature outlook he had. Ron grinned at her. "No one knows about Patrice's F-B yet either. Not even Fred and George." Hermoine couldn't help but smile. The Slytherinths were not going to like that one little bit.

The day was perfect for a game of Quidditch. The wind was blowing gently. The sun was partially hidden by clouds. The sun was warm but not too hot. Hermoine could hardly believe it was November. It seemed more like September, except all the leaves were down.

Hermoine was on her feet, cheering, as the Gryffindor team flew out triumphantly. The Ravenclaws came from their own side.

"Go Gryffindor!" Hermoine yelled. She didn't much like flying, but she loved watching it. she watched, amazed, as Harry dove after something, Cho Chang following him closely. Harry pulled up, and Cho Chang nearly went nose first into the ground. He yelled something at her, which sounded like "Sorry".

Gryffindor was winning 150 points to 50. Harry was diving after the snitch. Cho Chang didn't stand a chance. Things suddenly went horribly wrong above them. A bolt of black lightning, that seemed to suck light from the sky, charged across the sky, heading straight at Harry. He was too intent on the snitch, and didn't see it. The students cried out as one.

There was a horrible cracking sound, and Hermoine's ears rang painfully. She stood, shouting to Harry. He was alright! He held the snitch in his hand, and he was floating silently above the pitch, staring at something. Hermoine felt her stomach drop. Patrice! There were suddenly several teachers on the pitch, tending to her. Hermoine sank down. She was shaking. If that had been Ron . . . . She suddenly threw her arms around Ron, thankful that he hadn't been hit.