Chapter 7: Library Work

*Hallo, all. Yes, it's been a while. I had this earlier resolution to not write the next chapter until I got 25 reviews, but what the heck. This is another fluffy chapter, since the last two haven't been up to my usual standard. In which there is an assignment, some library work, and Shakespeare. All who know me, be quiet. I could never have resisted for long.*

*Disclaimer: You know, setting the mood for a story is hard enough without having to ruin it from the start with legal babble. Believe me, if I owned Harry Potter, I would make sure that I made a whole lot more money than I do right now.*

Take your coat and your shoes off
Come and sit beside me
We could talk for hours
Or we could just do nothing
Give me all your disappointments
I'll give you my secrets
We could lay our heads down
Or be forever sleepless

Four billion people surround us
So many souls lose their way
All that we have is each other
And that's all I've ever wanted

-Jann Arden, "Sleepless"



New Year's passed, and so did the Christmas holidays. Soon school was reinstated, and Ron was thrust back into school and all its quirks. Snape resumed the year with no residue of Christmas spirit, and Trelawney was her usual vague self.

Harry had resumed his dating with Cho, and was now going out with her regularly every second week. The initial effect that Ron and Hermione had noticed had not completely disappeared, but instead gotten less and less severe upon each occurrence. This was a blessing not only for Harry, but for Hermione and Ron, who no longer had to remind him to continue breathing.

***



They entered Charms lesson with no idea as to the class outline. They had, of course, seen other classes leaving with a rather stunned look on their face, but had thought nothing of it. As they sat down in their usual spots, Professor Flitwick floated to his usual perch of huge manuscripts with an expression of delight on his face.

"Well class, I'm very excited to tell you that this year Professor Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic have granted me the permission to use a project idea that I have been wanting to do for a while. This year, for your assignment, I will be allowing you to work in partners for this highly difficult scheme."

"Great," muttered Harry.

"However, I will choose the pairings. You will have from now to May to complete this. It will count as a final exam, therefore excluding the need to have a formal one. You have to invent your own spell."

The class was suddenly filled with loud whispers. Dean blurted out suddenly, "But is that even possible? We've never heard of that being done before!"

Professor Flitwick smiled to himself. "No, it's not very common, but it is possible. What you need to do is design a spell that has not been thought of yet, and then try to teach it to your wand." He waved his small hand before the class could question. "Yes, I know how preposterous that sounds, but if the word you choose for the initiation is close enough in Latin for the wand to be able to make the connection, it will work.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I think I understand that concept," she whispered to Ron and Harry, an attractively studious look on her face. "Since wands form connections to other spells every day, why not to one we formulate? This should be interesting - I think I've read a few books on the subject -"

Harry sighed. "So, what you're saying Hermione, is that the only person who's going to pass this thing is you and your partner?"

"Class! I'm not finished." Professor Flitwick resumed. "Naturally, there are some conditions to your spell. No injurious spells of any manner whatsoever. You must be able to perform your spell five times consecutively, producing the same result each time. And lastly, you must give me your research, including your resources, with the presentation."

The class was still shocked. This was beyond anything that even Professor McGonagall had assigned them.

"Right then, your pairs."

Ron sighed. "This is the only way this class could possibly get any worse. Who do you think I'll end up with, Lavender or Parvati?"

"Lavender and Neville, Harry and Parvati,"

Harry's eyes were wide. "Good grief," he murmured, "I'm stuck with the airhead from hell. The one I ignored at the Yule Ball. She'll crucify me."

Ron patted Harry on the back sympathetically. "You'll get through it. It's only for four months. And you won't be joined at the hip or anything."

Switching his attention back to Professor Flitwick, Ron managed to catch, "Terry and Dean, Seamus and Hannah,"

"But remember how mad she was at you, and you didn't even personally snub either of them? Oh no -"

",Ron and Hermione,"

Harry turned to glare enviously at Ron. "And you've got the best possible partner. You'll pass this year for sure now, getting 150% on the final. Just promise, sometimes, to visit me in my medieval torture cell of a group?"

Ron hurriedly replied to the affirmative, and then turned to Hermione, who had just said his name. He wasn't really sure what to do about the unfortunately fortunate choosing of his group, as he now had a very valid excuse to be alone with her. She had seemed rather distracted since November, not really having time to do anything, as things seemed to have been coming up all the time, such as extra-credit reports. He had never really been able to spend time with her like he had the night of Hallowe'en, something he found very unsettling.

"Right Ron, I think I know what we're going to do. What we'll do is meet in the library every Thursday night okay? And we'll do our research gradually. What sort of things do you think you'll consider for the result of the charm?" Hermione said all this very rapidly, shuffling through her notes and writing things down as she went. "I think this is a really good idea for an assignment, it actually teaches us to think for ourselves. Not to mention it'll be simpler and less time-consuming than studying for final exams -" here she cut short, glancing at her watch.

"Class has ended, and I haven't even put my notes in my room yet! I really have to go Ron, see you later, right?"

Ron nodded, watching her leave, her tall figure complimented to perfection. There was really something about the way her hair fell in soft curls, and how she walked purposefully. And strangely enough, he was even starting to find her very intelligence charming.

He was awakened out of his reverie by the crash of Harry's head against the desk. When he raised his head again, Ron observed both Parvati and Harry looking at each other with obvious distaste. Lavender was attempting to sit as far away from Neville as possible, replying in only two word answers.



                                                                                 ***

"Alright, Ron. Let's get down to business. What sort of idea do you have for the result of our spell?"

Ron was quite honestly, stunned. He had never been part of the whirlwind that was Hermione studying. He had watched as she spun from one part of the library to the other, grabbing books, and scribbling notes as she talked to herself and Ron. Not that Ron understood any of her technical speech.

Another problem was the flushed appearance her complexion had taken on. This, curiously, was the only thing that Ron seemed to be studying in their "study session".

"Ron?"

Ron shook his head quickly. "Oh, right. Well, um, what about, uh," All that Ron could hear inside his head was "a heart, a heart, a heart, a heart" beating in time to his. "No idea, how about you?"

Hermione sighed. "Well, I was thinking something along the lines of a poem recited or something, maybe just a symbol?"

Ron nodded. "Like a heart maybe?" Why did he say that? Why? He had just been thinking how he wasn't going to say that, and then out it popped.

Hermione jumped. "That's perfect! A heart with a poem recited simultaneously!"

Ron's mouth fell open. Great. Just what he needed. To be working on a romantic charm with his crush.

"So, uh," he ventured timidly, "what kind of poetry? Like are we going to be writing it ourselves, or just quoting something?"

"I don't know," mused Hermione. "My Muggle heritage points toward Shakespeare," she said with a slight smile, "but I'm not sure if he's as appreciated in the wizarding world as he most certainly is elsewhere."

"Shakespeare?" Ron asked quizzically. "Isn't he the Muggle who somehow recorded the life of the great Prospero, and of that trick on the Muggles? What was it.oh..A Solstice's Dream, or something -"

"A Midsummer's Night Dream," Hermione said, giggling to herself. "Yes, no one knows just how he knew about Prospero, but he is our main literary source about him and his daughter."

"Right, so what does this have to do with poetry?"

Hermione let out a breath. "Honestly, it's weird talking to wizards sometimes. Anyone in the Muggle world would know his sonnets. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day -?" Hermione asked rather expectantly.

"Huh?" Ron was confused. Him, a summer's day? That was very peculiar. Now, Hermione, maybe, but he resembled only a forest on fire.

Hermione threw up her hands. "Oh, never mind. I'll send a few to you some time, you can decide whether you'd rather use one of ours."

"Right," Ron nodded, trying to seem more intelligent, as somehow Hermione seemed very disappointed at his not knowing. He made a mental note to check out the -Shagespeare?- Muggle soon.

Ron asked something suddenly he hadn't been expecting to say.

"Hermione, which do you prefer? The wizarding or the Muggle world?"

The glow in Hermione's eyes suddenly went out. She started gathering up her books.

"I don't know," she said softly. "I know for Harry, anything would have been better than living with the Dursleys, but life was good. It was certainly a lot more simple. I wouldn't want to have been anything less than I could have been."

She sighed. "But it's hard, Ron. Sometimes even my parents seem a little scared of me, and that's the last thing I ever wanted. Half of my family is extremely religious. They don't even speak to me anymore, they think I'm the devil." Half-smiling, she shrugged. "But I'm really glad you and Harry are my friends. I didn't use to have a lot, they all thought I was a bit of a know-it-all. Much like you did before the troll at Hallowe'en."

Ron blushed. "I really am sorry about that, I-"

Hermione laughed. "Don't you dare apologize about that! It's been five years, if I was still mad, it would have made itself evident before this, wouldn't it have? Anyway, in case I haven't told you before, thanks for being a friend."

Ron stuttered.

"You're really sweet." Hermione touched his shoulder, smiling, then suddenly pulled away, looking at her watch.

"Good grief, what time is it?" she asked anxiously. "I haven't even started my studying for Potions! I really have to go, Ron," she said, calling over her shoulder, "Later, right?"

"Uh, right!" Ron sank into the library chair, only to be interrupted by Madame Pince.

"Library's closing, Ron, sorry. Have a good night, now, dear."

Ron left the library. Why did time with Hermione always leave him so confused?

                                                                                          ***

Next Wednesday, Ron actually ventured down to the library. This was an odd occurrence for him, because he rarely had any incentive to go if there was no homework -or Hermione- dragging him.

Softly, and rather timidly, Ron walked towards Madame Pince. "Er, I was wondering where Muggle books would be, if there are any.."

Madame Pince beamed at him. "Oh, that's marvelous, Ron! You see so few people from wizarding families actually going there, I was a Muggle, and our literature really isn't appreciated here."

She rambled on, leading him to a section in the corner of the library that he had never even been aware of before. It was dank, dusty, and didn't seem to have a great selection.

Madame Pince turned to him once again. "What exactly were you looking for, dear?"

Ron stammered. "Er, someone called, uh, Shakespeare?"

Ron thought Madame Pince was glowing. "Shakespeare! Oh, you wonderful boy! I'm so glad someone is reading him! Now, I think we have the sonnets, Hamlet, Othello, King Lear -"

"Er, the sonnets will be fine, Madame Pince."

Smiling happily, Madame Pince handed a small book to him. "Enjoy!"


                                                                                                     ***


Later in his room, Ron looked at the small book. He didn't see what all the fuss was about, really. The cover was unexciting, "Shakespeare's Sonnets - Complete 154," with a rather bland looking man on the cover.

154? He had no idea where to start! But he dove in anyway. Hermione liked them, he was sure he wouldn't hate them.


                                                                                               ***


The next day, Ron met Hermione as usual in the library. Her hair was disheveled, and she seemed very tired.

She smiled wryly at him. "Doesn't it just figure that all the teachers manage to assign projects the same week? I'm going mad here - but I did manage to find a bit more research on the Charms topic. Did you decide on the poem yet?"

Ron blushed. Sadly, he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "Er, yes. I thought that maybe we could do sonnet number 116?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "That one? That's odd. That's my favorite. I mean, I don't read Shakespeare a lot, I have a lot more things to do, but that's always been the one I favoured."

Ron nodded. "I liked the summer day one too, but this one seemed a little more lovely." Hermione smiled at him. Ron thought he would faint. "I'm surprised you actually took it out, I didn't expect you to!"

Ron flushed. "I know, I'm not usually the academic type, it's usually one of my brothers or something. Must be weird for me to disprove all those stereotypes, hey?"

Hermione looked embarrassed. "No, I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry, Ron, I apologize."

Ron sighed and sank into the nearest chair. "No, it's okay. I overreacted. I'm just tired of always having to live up to my brothers' reputations. It's hard when someone has already done it all ahead of you. it doesn't give you anything to try for, when you know that really, whatever you do, it's not going to be original. No one will notice it especially."

Ron didn't really want to be telling the girl he thought he liked this, but his mouth was moving of its own accord. "Even Mum does it. I'm sure she doesn't mean to, but she'll compare me to Percy, or Bill, or Charlie, and I know that I'm not doing as well as she wants me to."

Hermione's eyes were full of compassion. "But you've never disappointed me. Look, whatever you do, I'm sure that you'll amaze all of us. Not everyone is as kind as you are, and certainly no one is as humble. Don't worry about what you're going to do. It'll just come to you. And I'm sure your mother isn't disappointed in you either." She smiled. "I don't think mothers would be mothers if they couldn't compare."

Ron grinned weakly. Then Hermione did something that he thought would make him spontaneously combust. She gave him a hug. Pulling away from the embrace that left him wishing his face wasn't the color of spaghetti sauce, she stayed in front of his face for a long time, hers unbearably close.

But then she pulled away. Her face seemed slightly red from the heat. "Right, then. I've been looking in the Encyclopedia of Magic and -"