Author's Note- in case you haven't noticed, I'm not big on chapter names.
So sue me. *bursts into tears* THEY TOOK THAT OUT OF THE PLAY! WHY? WHY?!
It was a contented lot of Gryffindors that made their way up to their common room. Stuffed, tired, and bonds reestablished, Ron Harry, Hermione and Ginny took their separate ways.
Harry heard Ron asleep as soon as he hit the pillow. It wasn't until he was sure that Dean, Seamus, and Neville were also in slumber before he dared think, though there was really only one thing to think about. Ginny.
She had nagged in the back of Harry's mind since that day in the garden. His fifth year, Harry hadn't noticed her much, but she had suddenly grown up on him. No longer was she an awkward fourth year that blushed every time Harry looked her way, but a budding fifth year that spoke with confidence and ease. She had always been beautiful, but it seemed now that she no longer liked Harry. Suddenly, he found himself wishing she did.
~*~
All previous feast-bloatings forgotten, Ron stuffed his mouth full of bacon and eggs as soon as he sat down at the table. Hermione watched with distaste and carefully selected her array of breakfast foods.
Harry was moody, and when Ginny entered the Great Hall he straightened. But she decided to sit with her fifth year friends. Harry retreated into sullen silence.
Ron, ever dauntless, pulled out a schedule and scanned it keenly.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts. wonder who the new teacher is? Mrs. Figg didn't last long."
"But she had so much experience!" exclaimed Hermione indignantly. But Ron had gorged himself again and didn't answer.
The end of breakfast finally came, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione grabbed their bags and hurried to get a good seat. Ron entered first, and stopped dead in the doorway, causing Hermione to bump into him.
"Ron!" she said crossly, regaining her footing. Ron didn't respond. Impatient, Hermione ducked under him and into the classroom. Harry heard her sharp intake of breath as he herded Ron into the class. He turned around, and almost gasped himself.
Fleur de la Cour of Beauxbatons was standing in the front of the classroom. She was fiddling nervously with a lock of her long, shimmering hair, and gave a wobbly smile when Harry looked her way.
"'arry! I am going to teach Defense Against ze Dark Arts her thees year." Harry managed a nod. How, he didn't know. The chock of seeing the gorgeous girl had had almost a big affect on him as Ron, who was still gaping at Fleur.
"And Ronald! Do not theenk I 'ave forgotten you!" Ron's smile was wide and toothy. He rested his chin in his hand.
"And 'ermine?" Fleur asked politely to Hermione, who was staring at Fleur with a mixed expression on her face. It was all Harry could do not to laugh, for he knew exactly what was happening. Hermione was torn, because half of her said that Fleur was a teacher and deserved to be respected, but half of her still held contempt because Ron had judged Fleur and her by looks in their fourth year.
"You're not very- old." Hermione rushed, trying to break the awkward silence. She's even more beautiful when she blushes, thought Harry.
"No. I was just seventeen in ze tournament. You don't theenk it will matter?" she asked anxiously to Hermione, who was spared from answering by the timely arrival of the rest of the Gryffindors. Many of the girls huffed to their seats after seeing Fleur, but a lot of the boys had a similar reaction to Ron and Harry. Eventually they all found a seat, Hermione last of all.
"Class, I am Mademoiselle de la Cour, your new Defense Against ze Dark Arts teacher. Seexth years deal with curses and more advanced blocking of curses. Not that you'd need it after last year." No one laughed, because the statement wasn't meant to be a joke. Fleur went on. "So I am theenking we will work 'alf the year with curses and counter-curses, and ze uzzer 'alf on back-of-ze-book creatures." There was a quiver of excitement. The back-of-the-book creatures were the most dangerous ones in the wizarding world. Even Hermione couldn't contain the anticipation on her face at Fleur's words.
~*~
Ron, Hermione, and Harry chattered excitedly with the rest of the class.
"Fleur really knows her stuff!" said Ron, relieved of his daze now that Fleur was out of site.
"Mademoiselle de la Cour," corrected Hermione.
"I see you've put aside passed differences," said Harry wryly, with a furious look from Hermione.
"Whatever," said Ron, oblivious. Suddenly he groaned, checking his schedule. "Harry, we have divination next! At least we have no afternoon classes today. Don't say drop it, Hermione. I'd pick divination over arithmancy any day." Hermione flounced away with a knowing look on her face, and Harry and Ron prepared themselves for the long walk up to the North Tower.
Rubbing his eyes, Harry peered at the room again, afraid he'd gone color blind. It was the same shape, the same size, the same students, and the same old batty Professor Trelawaney, but for some reason she had decorated the room with gaudy pink and deep crimson.
"Will you please take a seat, you two?" came the floating voice of the professor above Ron and Harry's heads. Harry regained himself and dragged Ron to two magenta poufs.
"My dears, this year we will be focusing on the subject of love." Professor Trelawaney sighed lovingly, and Parvati and Lavender giggled from up front. Harry could have cried. "I'll need a volunteer.?" the teacher scanned the class, and her bespectacled eyes at once fell on Harry. "Harry dear, would you come up here for a moment?" Parvati and Lavender glared at Harry as he dragged himself toward Trelawaney and deposited himself in front of her.
"There's a dear." she murmured. "Now, don't move." She raked her nails through his hairs and daintily plucked a single black strand from Harry's head. He winced, but didn't move. "My dear." her face was tragic.
"Don't tell me," said Harry, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "There's death in my future." Professor Trelawaney fixed him with a beady stare.
"Not death, Harry dear, but love!" Harry looked surprised for a moment, and then smiled, walking back to Ron. Ron was sniggering as Trelawaney asked for more volunteers and almost everyone's hand shot up. Harry only vaguely remembered the lesson after that, for the draperies distracted him. They were red, red like a certain girl's hair. for once, Harry wished that Trelawaney was telling the truth.
It was a contented lot of Gryffindors that made their way up to their common room. Stuffed, tired, and bonds reestablished, Ron Harry, Hermione and Ginny took their separate ways.
Harry heard Ron asleep as soon as he hit the pillow. It wasn't until he was sure that Dean, Seamus, and Neville were also in slumber before he dared think, though there was really only one thing to think about. Ginny.
She had nagged in the back of Harry's mind since that day in the garden. His fifth year, Harry hadn't noticed her much, but she had suddenly grown up on him. No longer was she an awkward fourth year that blushed every time Harry looked her way, but a budding fifth year that spoke with confidence and ease. She had always been beautiful, but it seemed now that she no longer liked Harry. Suddenly, he found himself wishing she did.
~*~
All previous feast-bloatings forgotten, Ron stuffed his mouth full of bacon and eggs as soon as he sat down at the table. Hermione watched with distaste and carefully selected her array of breakfast foods.
Harry was moody, and when Ginny entered the Great Hall he straightened. But she decided to sit with her fifth year friends. Harry retreated into sullen silence.
Ron, ever dauntless, pulled out a schedule and scanned it keenly.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts. wonder who the new teacher is? Mrs. Figg didn't last long."
"But she had so much experience!" exclaimed Hermione indignantly. But Ron had gorged himself again and didn't answer.
The end of breakfast finally came, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione grabbed their bags and hurried to get a good seat. Ron entered first, and stopped dead in the doorway, causing Hermione to bump into him.
"Ron!" she said crossly, regaining her footing. Ron didn't respond. Impatient, Hermione ducked under him and into the classroom. Harry heard her sharp intake of breath as he herded Ron into the class. He turned around, and almost gasped himself.
Fleur de la Cour of Beauxbatons was standing in the front of the classroom. She was fiddling nervously with a lock of her long, shimmering hair, and gave a wobbly smile when Harry looked her way.
"'arry! I am going to teach Defense Against ze Dark Arts her thees year." Harry managed a nod. How, he didn't know. The chock of seeing the gorgeous girl had had almost a big affect on him as Ron, who was still gaping at Fleur.
"And Ronald! Do not theenk I 'ave forgotten you!" Ron's smile was wide and toothy. He rested his chin in his hand.
"And 'ermine?" Fleur asked politely to Hermione, who was staring at Fleur with a mixed expression on her face. It was all Harry could do not to laugh, for he knew exactly what was happening. Hermione was torn, because half of her said that Fleur was a teacher and deserved to be respected, but half of her still held contempt because Ron had judged Fleur and her by looks in their fourth year.
"You're not very- old." Hermione rushed, trying to break the awkward silence. She's even more beautiful when she blushes, thought Harry.
"No. I was just seventeen in ze tournament. You don't theenk it will matter?" she asked anxiously to Hermione, who was spared from answering by the timely arrival of the rest of the Gryffindors. Many of the girls huffed to their seats after seeing Fleur, but a lot of the boys had a similar reaction to Ron and Harry. Eventually they all found a seat, Hermione last of all.
"Class, I am Mademoiselle de la Cour, your new Defense Against ze Dark Arts teacher. Seexth years deal with curses and more advanced blocking of curses. Not that you'd need it after last year." No one laughed, because the statement wasn't meant to be a joke. Fleur went on. "So I am theenking we will work 'alf the year with curses and counter-curses, and ze uzzer 'alf on back-of-ze-book creatures." There was a quiver of excitement. The back-of-the-book creatures were the most dangerous ones in the wizarding world. Even Hermione couldn't contain the anticipation on her face at Fleur's words.
~*~
Ron, Hermione, and Harry chattered excitedly with the rest of the class.
"Fleur really knows her stuff!" said Ron, relieved of his daze now that Fleur was out of site.
"Mademoiselle de la Cour," corrected Hermione.
"I see you've put aside passed differences," said Harry wryly, with a furious look from Hermione.
"Whatever," said Ron, oblivious. Suddenly he groaned, checking his schedule. "Harry, we have divination next! At least we have no afternoon classes today. Don't say drop it, Hermione. I'd pick divination over arithmancy any day." Hermione flounced away with a knowing look on her face, and Harry and Ron prepared themselves for the long walk up to the North Tower.
Rubbing his eyes, Harry peered at the room again, afraid he'd gone color blind. It was the same shape, the same size, the same students, and the same old batty Professor Trelawaney, but for some reason she had decorated the room with gaudy pink and deep crimson.
"Will you please take a seat, you two?" came the floating voice of the professor above Ron and Harry's heads. Harry regained himself and dragged Ron to two magenta poufs.
"My dears, this year we will be focusing on the subject of love." Professor Trelawaney sighed lovingly, and Parvati and Lavender giggled from up front. Harry could have cried. "I'll need a volunteer.?" the teacher scanned the class, and her bespectacled eyes at once fell on Harry. "Harry dear, would you come up here for a moment?" Parvati and Lavender glared at Harry as he dragged himself toward Trelawaney and deposited himself in front of her.
"There's a dear." she murmured. "Now, don't move." She raked her nails through his hairs and daintily plucked a single black strand from Harry's head. He winced, but didn't move. "My dear." her face was tragic.
"Don't tell me," said Harry, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "There's death in my future." Professor Trelawaney fixed him with a beady stare.
"Not death, Harry dear, but love!" Harry looked surprised for a moment, and then smiled, walking back to Ron. Ron was sniggering as Trelawaney asked for more volunteers and almost everyone's hand shot up. Harry only vaguely remembered the lesson after that, for the draperies distracted him. They were red, red like a certain girl's hair. for once, Harry wished that Trelawaney was telling the truth.
