It was a curious evening, curious indeed. Fellow Gryffendors were milling
about talking about their plans for the weekend and next week's big
Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. Friday night was always a favorite of
his because the week's classes and studies were over and the relaxation and
fun could begin. Normally he would be looking forward to playing exploding
snap with Harry and practicing his flying skills on the Quidditch field. He
would take on anyone at Wizard's chess. He knew he should be relieved that
the weekend had finally arrived; yet he had other issues on his mind.
He knew what she would say, and while it would be sound advice he would never let her know that he had actually taken it. She would tell him that their Charms test was next week and that the Potions assignment would not write itself, no matter how hard he tried to charm his quill. He would never admit to her that she was right. No one could see him doing his work on a Friday night. No one.
The library made sense. It was usually deserted on Friday nights. Yet there was usually someone there, the one person he didn't want to see. Well, he wanted to see her, but he didn't want her to see him.
"Great, now my thoughts don't even make sense. This is what I get for doing homework on a Friday night," he muttered.
The common room on Friday night was no place to be if one wanted to get any studying done. He thought about going to an empty classroom when a brilliant idea entered his mind. Hagrid's! Hagrid was away, something for Dumbledore, very secret. He grinned. Hagrid never really could keep quiet about such things. Yet the hut would be empty and it would be a perfect place for him to get some work done.
He grabbed his books, a quill and some parchment and hurriedly shoved them into his bag. Harry was still with Snape, so if he made a break for it now he should be able to make it without anyone noticing. Snape never failed to ruin a good Friday night for him and Harry. As if it was really Harry's fault that Malfoy's robes had caught fire. Malfoy had been too busy annoying Hermione to notice that he had leaned over the flame a bit too far.
He grinned. The look on Malfoy's face was priceless and he deserved what he got. To say those nasty words to Hermione, he surely was asking for something. It might have been him in detention tonight if Malfoy's robes hadn't caught fire. There was just something about that word, Mudblood that seemed to spill out of Malfoy's mouth every time Hermione was near. Each time he grew more and more angry. He wasn't sure what he would do the next time he heard the word spoken, but he was pretty sure it would land him in detention. Yet the look on her face when Malfoy called her a Mudblood was enough to set off every ounce of hostility in his soul. He never wanted to see her look that way again. She was tough and she hid her feelings well, but in her eyes he could see her pain. He never wanted her to feel any pain.
He headed down the stairs and through the portrait hole. More stairs followed until he tasted the nighttime air. It was crisp, fresh, but also damp. He gazed up at the sky, wondering when the downpour would start. The moon was hidden. He rushed quickly down the rocky path towards Hagrid's.
He knew what she would say, and while it would be sound advice he would never let her know that he had actually taken it. She would tell him that their Charms test was next week and that the Potions assignment would not write itself, no matter how hard he tried to charm his quill. He would never admit to her that she was right. No one could see him doing his work on a Friday night. No one.
The library made sense. It was usually deserted on Friday nights. Yet there was usually someone there, the one person he didn't want to see. Well, he wanted to see her, but he didn't want her to see him.
"Great, now my thoughts don't even make sense. This is what I get for doing homework on a Friday night," he muttered.
The common room on Friday night was no place to be if one wanted to get any studying done. He thought about going to an empty classroom when a brilliant idea entered his mind. Hagrid's! Hagrid was away, something for Dumbledore, very secret. He grinned. Hagrid never really could keep quiet about such things. Yet the hut would be empty and it would be a perfect place for him to get some work done.
He grabbed his books, a quill and some parchment and hurriedly shoved them into his bag. Harry was still with Snape, so if he made a break for it now he should be able to make it without anyone noticing. Snape never failed to ruin a good Friday night for him and Harry. As if it was really Harry's fault that Malfoy's robes had caught fire. Malfoy had been too busy annoying Hermione to notice that he had leaned over the flame a bit too far.
He grinned. The look on Malfoy's face was priceless and he deserved what he got. To say those nasty words to Hermione, he surely was asking for something. It might have been him in detention tonight if Malfoy's robes hadn't caught fire. There was just something about that word, Mudblood that seemed to spill out of Malfoy's mouth every time Hermione was near. Each time he grew more and more angry. He wasn't sure what he would do the next time he heard the word spoken, but he was pretty sure it would land him in detention. Yet the look on her face when Malfoy called her a Mudblood was enough to set off every ounce of hostility in his soul. He never wanted to see her look that way again. She was tough and she hid her feelings well, but in her eyes he could see her pain. He never wanted her to feel any pain.
He headed down the stairs and through the portrait hole. More stairs followed until he tasted the nighttime air. It was crisp, fresh, but also damp. He gazed up at the sky, wondering when the downpour would start. The moon was hidden. He rushed quickly down the rocky path towards Hagrid's.