Chapter
3: What Words Can Do
*And here is a very, very fun chapter in which I get
fluffy! Fun! And Hermione gets mad too, probably the more exciting of the two.
Disclaimer: I own nothing etc., etc., etc., if I did own anything, I would try
to make sure that I didn't keep rabid fans of Harry Potter waiting THIS long
for the 5th book*
And I am contemplating matters
All this cling and clatter in my head
What you said is ringing
Ringing faster
And it's all good if you would
Stop the world from making sense
-Lifehouse, "Cling and Clatter"
"Ron, wake up! This is
absolutely wicked!"
Ron opened his sleepy eyes on the morning of October 31st to see a beautiful,
beautiful sight. The floor of his and Harry's dorm was literally carpeted with
candy - Chocolate Frogs, Bernie Botts', Raspberry
Rockets, and what looked like the entire stock of Honeydukes.
Harry was hovering over it all, looking like he'd just managed to transfer his
dream into reality.
"Who - Harry, what -?"
"Dobby!" Harry said wetly, then swallowed,
and continued. "He just showed up this morning really early, apparently
before they had to start cooking, and said he had 'Hallowe'en
presents for the great Harry Potter and his noble friend Weezy.'
"
Ron didn't reply. In fact, he couldn't have. His mouth was already filled with
Chocolate Frogs and Fizzing Filibusters.
Harry joined him.
"Wow, a perfect start to a perfect day," Harry said, his eyes
wandering off to somewhere in the air. Ron groaned and helped himself to some
Bernie Botts' Every-Flavor Beans, trying not to think
about something similar to what he thought his friend was.
***
Hermione was already at the Gryffindor table when they arrived for breakfast.
Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her brown eyes were shining. Her
face seemed radiant - to Ron. "Where were you two? Usually you're here a
lot earlier than usual."
Ron and Harry sank into their chairs. "Oh, we were just enjoying the nice
brisk chilly air of an October morning."
***
"Now, I want you all to look into the crystal ball. Slowly relax, let your thoughts go, become one with your feelings only."
Harry and Ron looked at each other. Divination had always been a struggle - not
to laugh, that is. Professor Trelawney's outlandish manner seemed to get
funnier every week; as did her many death predictions
for her student Harry Potter.
Ron took a deep breath. "Harry - I am looking - into the ball - My -
feelings are -washing over all - rational thought I had - which is why I am
talking like - a moron -" He moved his hands slowly over the crystal ball,
closing his eyes and humming into the air.
Harry was holding his sides in suppressed laughter.
Ron suddenly snapped his eyes open, looked deep into the crystal ball, and - he
wrinkled his brow in confusion. He wasn't just seeing the usual cloud of mist
and smoke, he could actually make out shapes. He wasn't sure whether or not he
had finally tapped into the psychic wave or if Professor Trelawney's incense
had finally rotted away half his brain.
He saw what he thought was the Yule Ball. There were students milling around, a
few actually slow-dancing, and he saw himself and Harry. But this Yule Ball was
remarkably different in one respect from last year's: he and Harry were not
with their old partners. Harry was dancing very cozily with a dark-haired girl,
and Ron was waltzing with -
Ron shook his head quickly. That was just about as low as it got. His lovesick
mind had obviously pasted his desires onto a make-believe situation, and then
written it off as a "divination." He looked over at Harry.
"Ron? You really need more
sleep."
***
At lunch, Ron found himself steadily avoiding the gaze of Hermione. He didn't
know what to think at all: she had done nothing out of the ordinary to make him
fall this much for her, yet all he could ever think of was Hermione Granger.
The way her hair swished when she turned her head to look at you, or the way
her deep brown eyes seemed brimming with knowledge when she was explaining
something to you in her practical, patient way. He had been friends with her
for forever, and that was part of the trouble; he had too many memories of her,
too many sweet things that he could look back on from today for him to stop
this insane infatuation.
In fourth year, it had been something that he had only realized with his
jealousy. When she arrived that night at the Yule Ball, her hair up, looking so
different from what she had always looked, he had woken up. He had realized
that he had liked Hermione for a lot longer than he had thought. Had liked everything about her, from the fact that she got into
trouble for them, and wasn't afraid to break the rules; that she went on the
rampage for house elves rights, and helped Neville in Potions. She had
become more than a friend, but it was hard for Ron to realize it when he
finally moved from friendship to so much more.
But Ron had never been high in self-confidence. He was poor, and he knew it.
And so did everyone else. He considered it a miracle that he had ended with
Harry Potter as his best friend at all. Every time Draco
taunted him, he felt not outrage, but misery. And when he found out that Krum
was 'going out' with the girl that he believed he loved, he thought it would be
ridiculous to step in. For him, a nobody with no money
either, to try and displace Viktor Krum, one of the best Seekers Quidditch had ever seen, the world famous teenager, the boy
who held so much allure for every single girl except Hermione. Hermione only
liked him after she knew him.
The fifth year had been awful for him. Every time he turned around, there was
another foreign-looking owl from Krum. Hermione was not flighty enough to tell
them of these things. She simply kept them in her thoughts, but Ron imagined
enough.
Around Christmas, Hermione had not showed up for classes. Harry and Ron,
immediately realizing the crisis, had ran up to the
Gryffindor common room as soon as they could, and found her, broken down by the
fireplace.
Viktor Krum had done the unspeakable. For another Bulgarian girl, he had
abandoned Hermione. And Hermione, who would never dream of doing that to
anyone, and who had only chosen Krum in the first place because he seemed
reliable, was left wounded and wondering what was wrong with her.
He could have moved in then, he supposed. But he figured Hermione, with her sturdy
ways and firm intellect, would be unapproachable for a few decades. It was hard
for her, acknowledging that it wasn't her who was wrong, it was him. But
eventually, after a lot of support from Harry and Ron, and a whole lot of
Chocolate Frogs, she recovered. Ron had put fourth year to the back of his
mind, and life went on.
And then this had to come along.
***
Defense against the Dark Arts was particularly awful that day. Miss Perthins appeared to have discovered a magical creature
that no one knew how to defend themselves against. Harry and Ron were not very
fond of the Erkling, a gnome-ish
looking creature who spent its time cackling.
"Now, class, I'm going to write the instructions on the board for the
Silencing Spell. Once the Erkling is silenced - well,
just read the rest, students." Her hands shaking, she turned to the board
and began writing, her cursive jerky and unformed. Ron and Harry sighed softly.
A girl somewhere at the back put up her hand. After waiting ten minute, she
finally spoke out.
"Um, Miss Perthins?"
"Y-yes?"
"I was wondering, just what is that word after 'children' there, I can't quite read it -"
Miss Perthins' periwinkle eyes filled with tears.
"It's, oh, it's just so hard
having to teach," she sniffled, sitting down at her desk with a thud.
"I try and try and try and it's never ever good enoughh -" here she broke
off into a wail. The class was stunned. What should they do? Hermione looked
flabbergasted, and Ron and Harry felt much the same way. The breed of teachers
at Hogwarts had never been emotional at all, unless one could count the emotion
of Professor McGonagall's tongue-lashings.
"I'm quitting, I just can't take it anymore -" her voice trailed off
again, and she covered her swollen face with her hands, retreating out of the
classroom with her robes trailing dejectedly on the floor. The class sat,
utterly confused. There was silence.
Dean stood up. "Well, I guess that's all for that. Class is excused
early!"
The swarm of students left the classroom. Hermione, Ron and Harry walked in
silence. Then -much to everyone's surprise- Hermione started sniggering.
"I'm sorry, I honestly feel bad for her, it's just, who
would have thought that we'd lose a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher
simply because someone couldn't read the word 'follow'?"
***
At dinner, the story had spread through the school. Questions of whether or not
the class would be cancelled, or what kind of teacher would have to be found on
such short notice circulated table to table.
Dumbledore rose at the head table. "A word please,
students?"
The students sat attentively. They all knew what the announcement would
concern.
"Miss Perthins has found unavoidable
difficulties with teaching the Defense against the Dark Arts class. She has
resigned." Dumbledore paused, and then began again quickly before any
clamor from the students could begin. "Do not, however, think that this
will mean an absence from your highly important education in self-defense. A
teacher for the rest of the year will be found, and soon."
There were groans from all over the dining hall. "This should be
interesting," murmured Harry to his two friends. "If that was the
best they could find after a summer of searching, who on earth are they going
to find after a day?"
"Maybe the Erkling will agree," Ron
shrugged.
"There are a few more things, however, so please bear with me. It has come
to my attention, over the past two years, that many
attendants of the Yule Ball two years ago have been clamoring for another such
dance."
Hermione let out her breath in exasperation. "Honestly, Lavender and Parvati: those two just get worse every day! Especially
since they turned sixteen, and all their little romantic stories about 'sweet
sixteen' began -"
Ron smiled at Hermione. For a moment their eyes met, and Ron was utterly
breathless until -
"Hey Ron, you done with those hash browns?" Seamus' arm suddenly
entered the small tunnel of Ron's vision, grabbed the bowl and disappeared
again. Ron sighed, and turned his attention back to Dumbledore.
"Therefore, for the fourth years and up, there will be a dance on July
1st, to mark the end of the school year. Also, a reminder that tonight third
years and up may visit Hogsmeade if they have a
permission slip. And the first Quidditch game of the
season is November 23rd. Thank you."
The old wizard who still had eyes that sparkled like a child
sat down again. Ron stared straight ahead, his eyes full of fear. Another dance? The Yule Ball had been horror enough. He
doubted Padma Patil would
brave another night with him, and there was no way he would even begin to
imagine what might happen if he asked the object of his affections.
He turned to look at Harry who, it was evident, was having no such depressing
thoughts. Ron could hear him muttering to himself, "and then I'll buy her
a corsage, and she'll be absolutely gorgeous. And then every single slow dance
-"
Ron turned away, disheartened. This year he wouldn't even have his usual fellow
rejected friend to keep him company. He propped a hand under his chin and was
just giving himself over to his glum predictions when he heard tittering just
behind him.
He spun around to see Lavender and Parvati standing
there. Parvati looked at him with what was definitely
distaste. "I was just saying to Lavender here
that my sister just told me there was no way that she would ever brave another night with you and
the amazing molding maroon dress robes. I certainly wouldn't either,
considering that there really isn't
much, at least the way Lavender and I see it, going for you in the positive
aspect either."
Ron was speechless. He knew he hadn't been the best date to Parvati's
twin on that night, harboring feelings of rejection and jealousy, but he hadn't
thought that there was this much loathing on not only her part, but Lavender
and Parvati. He had just opened his mouth, when he
heard a different voice breaking the sudden silence that had fallen over their
part of the table. For a moment he almost thought it was his, until he realized
that his voice had never really sounded that melodious - in anger.
"JUST SHUT UP!"
Ron turned, and in what seemed to be like slow motion, he saw Harry's jaw drop,
Neville's face register awe, and Hermione standing up in her tall like a
wrathful Fury, unleashing it all on the two, who stood there stunned.
"I don't know WHO you think you are Parvati, but
I know that you are still the same
simpering little idiot who arrived here five years ago and immediately made
friends with the only other of your
kind here. If you want to insult someone just to boost your own inflated ego
again, try to find someone who hasn't
only been nice to you ever since you met him. Or maybe you could just never
talk to us again, because it would be a waste of your already pointless breath,
since you can be sure we aren't ever
going to respond. And if you think that Ron is going to have any more trouble
than you in finding a date to the prom, you're severely mistaken, because I
will make sure that every single male in this school knows about every single
secret that you have, including the fact that you both wear ready-made
wigs."
At this she gestured to Lavender and Parvati's
elaborately curly and glamorous hair. Ron thought through the haze that was his
mind that that really cleared up a lot of questions about time efficiency he
had had concerning their appearances.
Hermione was almost done, her eyes glittering dangerously and her hands
clenched in fists at her sides.
"Now go find a mirror somewhere, so you can see your vacantly shallow,
cruel and clown-like faces for exactly what they are - nothing."
Lavender and Parvati stood, shocked, protective hands
drifting unconsciously to their hair. Hermione still stood, but the anger that
had been in her seemed to subside, and she slumped a
little, not looking quite as big as she had previously. Then her eyes drifted
back to the two, and she added, almost in an afterthought:
"There's a dictionary in the library. I know I used a few big words."
There was a stunned silence over the Gryffindor table. Then, slowly but surely,
starting from a few scattered claps, there was applause. Hermione turned to
look at the table, her face asking why on earth they were doing that. Then it
dawned on her, and her face turned a shade pink so becoming Ron grinned wider
than ever. Dean and Seamus walked up to her, shaking her hand firmly, and
patting her shoulder -("thank you, thank you, we
couldn't have said it better ourselves. Just beautiful,
exquisite.")- and everyone just seemed to
be laughing through their hearty applause. Ginny seemed to be inches away from
falling off her chair. For Ron, it all seemed to be summed up by Harry, who
turned to him, and, between guffaws and through a huge grin, said:
"Well that was refreshing."
