Well, it's been five long months since I've posted my last chapter,
and I'm not sure what I was so busy doing that I could not find time to
write it, but over spring break I went to San Antonio [for the UIL Math and
Science state meet] and I became so inclined to write it while I was
sitting in our hotel room, listening to my music [country, of course!] to
drown out the sound of the TV that my roommatetypepeople were watching.
Sooo... it is finally HERE!! *does the happy dance...^(^_^)^* I am hoping
to finish the sixth chapter really soon, to sorta/kinda/notreally make up
for the long and what I'm sure was EXCRUCIATING wait for the fifth! ^^ And
then, if I feel up to it, you will get a special tReAt for the seventh
chapter. you'll just have to wait and see what it is when I write it! ^^
[For those of you who read my new profile thingy for my pen name, I TOLD
you I was hyper!] Well... I'm guessing I've ranted long enough...
Disclaimer: *eyes dart side to side...* Don't tell anyone... but I'm really J.K. Rowling writing in disguise... *eyes widen* shhhh... Promise not to tell O_O ........ *men in white coats appear* NO! Don't take me away!! I'm not crazy! I'm not, I tell you; I'm not!! AAAAaaahhhh...
~Drum roll please...~ and now... the moment you've all been waiting five months and three days for...
True Colors - Chapter Five - The Plot Thickens
It had been four days since Harry moved in with us; he was staying the guest room down the hall from me. My mom adored Harry, and my dad seemed to like him well enough. He didn't dislike him at any rate.
It was almost lunchtime, and we, having just decided on going out to eat, were presented with the question of where. I made the suggestion of Italian food, which was met with general consent, especially by Harry.
"I haven't had Italian food in _ages!_" he exclaimed. "My meals at the Dursley's usually consist of a squashed peanut butter and jelly sandwich being slipped through the crack under the door."
At this my mother frowned and said, "That's just _horrible!_ I suppose we'll just have to go get some then, now won't we?" She got, retrieved her purse, and hurried us out the door into the car, intent on "beating the crowds." So we piled into the car, Harry and me in the back of the minivan, Mom and Dad in the front, and we drove off toward "Garbagio's," our favorite Italian restaurant. I stared out the window at the bright blue sky above and found myself longing for Hogwarts. In the past four years I had spent more time there than at my house, and it had almost become more of a home to me than the building in which I lived during the summer.
We arrived at the restaurant, and were seated by a waiter. He was pretty short, and didn't look very Italian. He had a small, dark moustache coupled with a barely visible stubble of a beard. His eyes were a little closer together than the norm, and his small nose seemed to try to wedge them apart. To tell the truth, he actually looked rather funny.
I looked around the room at all the people. Some were eating spaghetti, some were eating ravioli, and some were eating fettuccini, but they were all steaming tantalizingly and making me _really_ hungry. Finally the waiter came to ask if we were ready to order and was met with a quick "yes" from my father.
"I'll have the fettuccini alfredo," said Dad, and the waiter scribbled on his paper.
"I would like a plate spaghetti and meatballs," requested Mom, and the waiter scribbled some more. I then ordered spaghetti, also, Harry asked for ravioli, and the waiter scurried off to the kitchen.
I hungrily counted the minutes until our food arrived. There were six and three quarters of them. Our food finally arrived, smelling and looking delicious, and we immediately dove in. My spaghetti tasted very good, and Harry made a similar comment on his ravioli.
Upon finishing our meals, Mom asked our waiter for the bill, which was brought shortly. She handed him some money, and we all stood up. We headed for the door when Harry realized ha had forgotten his glasses, so he went back for them while we headed for the car.
At the glass door, I peered through and gasped when I saw the freckle- faced, redheaded boy approaching with his stout mother and little sister. I filled with joy at seeing him, but at the same time I got a troublesome feeling somewhere deep within my heart. It only happened for an instant, however, and I still enthusiastically opened the door and ran to him.
"Ron!" I shouted excitedly. He turned his head, and his eyes lit up when the met mine.
"Hermione!" he yelled back, and we ran to meet each other. "How's your summer been?" he asked, grinning broadly.
"Good, but I kind of miss Hogwarts. I've been reading a book with some really cool spells. You should come over sometime and I'll show you some. It's so cool that fifth years get to practice some simple spells away from school during the summer." Just then I noticed his countenance change from an excited grin to a blank, expressionless stare. I could tell that his sight was focused on something behind me, so turned around to see Harry walking towards us.
"Hi, Ron!" he said with vigor.
"Hello, Harry," Ron responded emotionlessly but for the slightest tinge of vexation. "Imagine, us all running into each other here."
"Actually, Harry is staying with us for the remainder of the summer, since the Dursleys were treating him so horribly."
"Oh, is that so?" he casually remarked, his eyes still locked on Harry. However, I could hear the tension building in his voice and see the anger rising in his eyes. Something wasn't right.
"Yeah," said Harry, seeming not to notice his friend's bitterness. "Why don't you come over sometime so we can all... uh... hang out. Or go somewhere. Or... something... like that." I chuckled to myself at his wonderful articulation.
"No, I think we're gonna be doing... something. I don't think I'll be able to. See ya, Hermione." And with that he walked away towards the restaurant, but I saw him give the back of Harry's head a look of intertwined sadness and anger. Now I _knew_ something serious was wrong. He had seemed so happy to see me, but when Harry showed up, he became so stiff and hardly said anything. He rejected our offer to get together and didn't even say goodbye to Harry. This could only be bad.
"Did you and Ron have a fight or something?" I inquired.
"No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?" My eyes widened at his last remark. Surely, surely, surely! he didn't overlook Ron's intense hostility toward him. He can be such a _blond_ sometimes!
"Hello!" I nearly shouted. "Were you not just standing here with Ron? Did you not notice how... _peeved_ he acted?"
"Well, now that you mention it, he did seem a little annoyed."
"_A little annoyed??_ Harry, did you not see how he was looking at you? If looks could kill, you'd be dead three times over! And not just a little dead; I mean so dead people would see your body and say, 'Yup, he's dead alright. Real dead.' and you would even agree with them if were able to but you wouldn't be able to because you would be so dead that-,"
"All right, Hermione!" He finally stopped me. "That's enough; I get it! But why would he be so mad? I haven't done anything to him that would explain his __supposed look of death.__"
"I was hoping you could tell me..." Suddenly we were interrupted by Mom yelling at us to hurry up. I had been so wrapped up in the recent events that I almost forgot we were standing in the Garbagio's parking lot. "Coming, Mom!" I returned. "Let's go," I said to Harry, and we ran to the car. But all the way home, and for weeks to come, Ron entered my thoughts more times than I cared to count, and I fretted over his behavior and dwelled on what could be its provocation, but you couldn't fill a thimble with all the rational possibilities I contemplated.
Disclaimer: *eyes dart side to side...* Don't tell anyone... but I'm really J.K. Rowling writing in disguise... *eyes widen* shhhh... Promise not to tell O_O ........ *men in white coats appear* NO! Don't take me away!! I'm not crazy! I'm not, I tell you; I'm not!! AAAAaaahhhh...
~Drum roll please...~ and now... the moment you've all been waiting five months and three days for...
True Colors - Chapter Five - The Plot Thickens
It had been four days since Harry moved in with us; he was staying the guest room down the hall from me. My mom adored Harry, and my dad seemed to like him well enough. He didn't dislike him at any rate.
It was almost lunchtime, and we, having just decided on going out to eat, were presented with the question of where. I made the suggestion of Italian food, which was met with general consent, especially by Harry.
"I haven't had Italian food in _ages!_" he exclaimed. "My meals at the Dursley's usually consist of a squashed peanut butter and jelly sandwich being slipped through the crack under the door."
At this my mother frowned and said, "That's just _horrible!_ I suppose we'll just have to go get some then, now won't we?" She got, retrieved her purse, and hurried us out the door into the car, intent on "beating the crowds." So we piled into the car, Harry and me in the back of the minivan, Mom and Dad in the front, and we drove off toward "Garbagio's," our favorite Italian restaurant. I stared out the window at the bright blue sky above and found myself longing for Hogwarts. In the past four years I had spent more time there than at my house, and it had almost become more of a home to me than the building in which I lived during the summer.
We arrived at the restaurant, and were seated by a waiter. He was pretty short, and didn't look very Italian. He had a small, dark moustache coupled with a barely visible stubble of a beard. His eyes were a little closer together than the norm, and his small nose seemed to try to wedge them apart. To tell the truth, he actually looked rather funny.
I looked around the room at all the people. Some were eating spaghetti, some were eating ravioli, and some were eating fettuccini, but they were all steaming tantalizingly and making me _really_ hungry. Finally the waiter came to ask if we were ready to order and was met with a quick "yes" from my father.
"I'll have the fettuccini alfredo," said Dad, and the waiter scribbled on his paper.
"I would like a plate spaghetti and meatballs," requested Mom, and the waiter scribbled some more. I then ordered spaghetti, also, Harry asked for ravioli, and the waiter scurried off to the kitchen.
I hungrily counted the minutes until our food arrived. There were six and three quarters of them. Our food finally arrived, smelling and looking delicious, and we immediately dove in. My spaghetti tasted very good, and Harry made a similar comment on his ravioli.
Upon finishing our meals, Mom asked our waiter for the bill, which was brought shortly. She handed him some money, and we all stood up. We headed for the door when Harry realized ha had forgotten his glasses, so he went back for them while we headed for the car.
At the glass door, I peered through and gasped when I saw the freckle- faced, redheaded boy approaching with his stout mother and little sister. I filled with joy at seeing him, but at the same time I got a troublesome feeling somewhere deep within my heart. It only happened for an instant, however, and I still enthusiastically opened the door and ran to him.
"Ron!" I shouted excitedly. He turned his head, and his eyes lit up when the met mine.
"Hermione!" he yelled back, and we ran to meet each other. "How's your summer been?" he asked, grinning broadly.
"Good, but I kind of miss Hogwarts. I've been reading a book with some really cool spells. You should come over sometime and I'll show you some. It's so cool that fifth years get to practice some simple spells away from school during the summer." Just then I noticed his countenance change from an excited grin to a blank, expressionless stare. I could tell that his sight was focused on something behind me, so turned around to see Harry walking towards us.
"Hi, Ron!" he said with vigor.
"Hello, Harry," Ron responded emotionlessly but for the slightest tinge of vexation. "Imagine, us all running into each other here."
"Actually, Harry is staying with us for the remainder of the summer, since the Dursleys were treating him so horribly."
"Oh, is that so?" he casually remarked, his eyes still locked on Harry. However, I could hear the tension building in his voice and see the anger rising in his eyes. Something wasn't right.
"Yeah," said Harry, seeming not to notice his friend's bitterness. "Why don't you come over sometime so we can all... uh... hang out. Or go somewhere. Or... something... like that." I chuckled to myself at his wonderful articulation.
"No, I think we're gonna be doing... something. I don't think I'll be able to. See ya, Hermione." And with that he walked away towards the restaurant, but I saw him give the back of Harry's head a look of intertwined sadness and anger. Now I _knew_ something serious was wrong. He had seemed so happy to see me, but when Harry showed up, he became so stiff and hardly said anything. He rejected our offer to get together and didn't even say goodbye to Harry. This could only be bad.
"Did you and Ron have a fight or something?" I inquired.
"No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?" My eyes widened at his last remark. Surely, surely, surely! he didn't overlook Ron's intense hostility toward him. He can be such a _blond_ sometimes!
"Hello!" I nearly shouted. "Were you not just standing here with Ron? Did you not notice how... _peeved_ he acted?"
"Well, now that you mention it, he did seem a little annoyed."
"_A little annoyed??_ Harry, did you not see how he was looking at you? If looks could kill, you'd be dead three times over! And not just a little dead; I mean so dead people would see your body and say, 'Yup, he's dead alright. Real dead.' and you would even agree with them if were able to but you wouldn't be able to because you would be so dead that-,"
"All right, Hermione!" He finally stopped me. "That's enough; I get it! But why would he be so mad? I haven't done anything to him that would explain his __supposed look of death.__"
"I was hoping you could tell me..." Suddenly we were interrupted by Mom yelling at us to hurry up. I had been so wrapped up in the recent events that I almost forgot we were standing in the Garbagio's parking lot. "Coming, Mom!" I returned. "Let's go," I said to Harry, and we ran to the car. But all the way home, and for weeks to come, Ron entered my thoughts more times than I cared to count, and I fretted over his behavior and dwelled on what could be its provocation, but you couldn't fill a thimble with all the rational possibilities I contemplated.