Black Rider
By Mae Noelle and Ducky
Disclaimer -- Nothing is ours, I promise. Never has been, never will be. Gasp! Can you believe it?
AN - THANK you to my absolutely WONDERFUL reviewers! Especially Jade - my muse Ducky absolutely loves you, since you write the best reviews for our stories. JasperPress77, Porthos-the-Pirate, piper, Kneazle, tomato, spud snape, Moonlight Aurora, Machu Naru, Lily of the Shadow, Hermi Lu, Amethyst, Silverfox, Hungarian Horntail, Sarah Kingston, Chrissy, Ktie Eiknlng Snape, kittykat52788, sara, and Jade - thank you loads!
~3 -- Phantom -- 3~
Hermione dashed out on the cold dark streets of a town in Wales. The streetlights illuminated small pieces of the street, and were reflected in the many small pools of water lying everywhere.
She leapt from puddle to puddle, making for the alleyway she normally apparated out from.
In an instant she had apparated to her small house, de-blackified herself, and had tidied up for her out-on-the-town date with Harry and Ron. She sprayed another excruciatingly long spritz at her hair with some taming hair spray, and concentrated on the spot Harry had told her to meet them at.
She looked around the alleyway she had apparated to, and immediately saw a flaming red haired figure sitting on a crate, facing away from her.
"Ron!" She yelled, grinning as she saw him jump into the air.
"Geez, Hermione!" Ron said, breathing in deeply, and holding his hand over his heart. "I've been waiting forever, was beginning to think you wouldn't show,"
She laughed slightly still grinning, and looked around her. "Of course I would show - but looks like Harry didn't," She dropped her grin and furrowed her eyebrows, and turned quizzically to Ron.
"Ah, well," He lifted his arms behind his head and smiled helplessly. "You know Harry, always busy."
"Yes," Hermione said, tilter her head down, though still keeping her eyes level with his. "But Harry said he could make this,"
Ron coughed.
Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly, an odd thought forming in her head. "Ron, this wouldn't have anything to do with you asking him not to come, would it?" She narrowed her eyes further as she watched him blush.
"Hermione!" He hissed. "Why would I do such a thing? You know Harry's always got things popping up in his face, and the Minister of Magic gave him a call and Harry couldn't refuse, and he told me to say sorry..." He reached into his pockets and pulled out three tickets. "And he gave me these. it was supposed to be for all of us, for tonight, gifts from some Quidditch Seeker scout. For tonight. He said we should go see it, and give the third to some hobo we see on the way."
He gave her his sad pathetic look, one he was rather good at, and Hermione felt herself softening. Harry was always busy, and now Ron was all embarrassed. She sighed.
"Well, alright. sorry. what are the tickets for?" She tried to grab the tickets from Ron, but he playfully yanked them away.
Inside she cringed at the thought of spending the entire night alone with Ron, and racked her mind for an instant excuse to leave that wouldn't make her feel too guilty.
"It's for a musical of some sort, playing down at a London theater," He held them up again, and raised an eyebrow. "Phantom of the Opera, I do believe. Do you wanna go?"
His look was pleading, and she felt bad for even thinking of deserting him. but.
"All right," She said, and cringed again when Ron took the liberty of taking her arm, and smiled. She forced on a smile herself, and tried to keep up as he speed-walked towards the London Theater.
After a few blocks Hermione could see a long line protruding from large doors and a booth.
She went to stop at the end of the line, but Ron continued around them, up to the doors, and finally had to let go of Hermione to make his way through the crowd.
Hermione tried to give her confused look to Ron, but he was completely engrossed in looking important as he passed the elegantly dressed men and women.
Looking at the perfect attire of the people around her, Hermione suddenly became self-conscious and looked down at her dress robe, which was terribly plain, and was thankful that she hadn't gone with the normal pair of slacks and shirt that she had planned to wear. Ron, however, looked as though he knew of the show, and was wearing a sort of fancy tux like a waiter would wear, and completely contrasted with what he looked like from the neck up.
The man at the front of the doors eyed Ron as he bustled past the line, and was about to open his mouth in rebuke when Ron shoved two tickets in his face.
"Ah," The man said slowly, reading the tickets, then looking Ron and Hermione over. "Promotional tickets." He opened the door, and motioned with his hand to enter. "Have a good show," He sneered, and turned back to the crowd.
Hermione was about to open her mouth herself, when Ron grabbed her arm again, and was leading her through the large theater.
She stared at the beautiful paintings and things hanging on the walls, and kept expecting the paintings to move when she remembered she was in a muggle theater. She vaguely remembered the theater, from previous trips with her parents.
In another moment Hermione was being shoved into her seat, which was directly in the front, almost too close. They were seated off to the side, which slightly annoyed her - she didn't mind what row she was in, so long as she was in the middle. There was an impressive orchestra lined up in front of her, down a few feet from the seats level.
Ron sat down next to her, turned and smiled. Hermione turned and smiled slightly, and then turned to the front, focused on thinking about the next race to get her through the night.
Ron coughed at her side. "So. Hermione."
She turned hesitantly. "Yes?" She said slowly, trying hard not to appear agitated.
"Why were you so late today?" He looked intently into her eyes, and she felt suddenly uncomfortable. For a minute she considered telling Ron that she was the Black Rider winning the Unicorn Races the entire wizarding world watch, and then laugh as though she was being sarcastic, just to see what he would say.
"Well?" He said again, lifting an eyebrow as he studied her unfocused gaze.
She shook herself out of her little daydream, which involved Ron rolling on the ground laughing at the thought of her even thinking of entering the races, and looked up at Ron.
"Well," Hermione said slowly. "You know me, I just found an interesting book and got wrapped up in it." She grinned at her good excuse - that was so stereotypically her as Ron knew her that she doubted he would even think twice about the matter.
He grinned. "Harry said he came by your house today, to tell you himself that he couldn't make it, and that you weren't there." His grin widened.
"I got really, really wrapped up in my book?" She said slowly, raising her eyebrows.
"Hermione," He said warningly. "What are you hiding?"
"Nothing," She said quickly, realizing with a mental groan that she sounded very guilty. "I didn't say I was reading at my house, anyway. I was at a park." She turned and faced forward, studying the show curtain.
He turned to her, and she felt his eyes bore into the side of her head.
"Hermione," He said, in so serious a tone that she felt her eyes being magnetized towards the source. "Harry and I have been trying to contact you, and most of the time you are either not there, or completely ignoring us - on purpose."
She blinked. "What times have you tried to contact me? I've already told you - they put me on overtime at the Ministry, and I'm working on -"
"Hermione!" He hissed, and she stopped her excuses. "I'm talking about on your time off! Saturdays, Thursday nights. I tried calling you last Saturday, but you weren't there-"
"I told you, Ron, that I was called in for a special-"
"I contacted the Ministry and they said you were off for the night!" He yelled through a clenched jaw. He immediately looked around to see if anyone could have heard him.
Hermione looked away, furious. She actually had been called for a special meeting, Saturday morning. she couldn't justify out right lying. Lying wasn't really lying if you were doing It through a loophole.
"Well?" He said slowly, still boring a hole through her head. After she ignored him for a few more moments he said again, slightly hysterically, "Well?"
She turned her head sharply to the opposite side and glared stubbornly.
"Saturday nights. Thursday nights.. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were gone off to the Unicorn races." His hard glare softened a bit as the corners of his mouth started to twitch, and he quickly turned forward.
For a minute she was completely blown away, confused as to how Ron would have been able to guess. (It wasn't that hard, really, but. he's Ron.) He would have jumped straight away to hr having a secret boyfriend that she met exactly at the time of the unicorn races.
"I guess that by your silence that I guessed correctly." He started to grin. Hermione's brain raced. "I knew that you were lying when you said you hated watching the Unicorn races! You've been betting on them or something this whole time, haven't you? Is that why you keep going - because you've racked up a dept you gotta pay, and want to keep it a secret?" His grin widened as he turned back towards her. "Am I right?"
Hermione let out her breath, almost feeling like bursting out laughing at his logic.
"Ah, well, something like that," Hermions aid nervously, wanting to drop the subject.
"Do - do you go with anyone?" Ron said after a long, uncomfortable pause.
"No." She said flatly, looking to her right as she noticed the first people finally coming into their seats.
"Ah, well," Hermione watched him out of the corner of her eye look down into his lap, and twidle with his thumbs nervously.
She could almost see what was coming.
"I've heard the Unicorn Races are very good, but I haven't been to too many,"
Hermione turned her head forward. She closed her eyes and began to massage her temples, feeling the nervousness radiate from Ron.
"And since you know your way around the Underground City," Hermione could feel him grin. "I was wondering if you would accompany me to next Thursday's Unicorn Race?"
Hermione sighed into her hands, and let her hair fall and cover her face.
There was another uncomfortable pause, in which she could feel Ron shift and shift again and again in his seat, until finally a starting note was played from the orchestra in front of her.
She sighed again, though now in relief, and turned to the stage and watched the curtains open.
The musical was absolutely stunning, and by the end of it she was sure that if she had been in this, she would have run away with Erik, the poor guy. She had the insane urge to jump up and run away, before the musical play ended and she was forced to spend more time with Ron.
The beautiful music ended all too soon, with a storm of applause and a standing ovation. Hermione quickly made her way between the standing people, weaving in and out until she had gotten into the open air in front of the theater.
Ron, of course, had caught up quickly, and was once again holding her arm.
"What a wonderful, erm, play." Ron said quickly, seeing the dead expression on Hermione's face.
"It's a musical," She retorted, and tried again to be free of Ron.
"Yes, there was lots of music, wasn't there?" Ron said lamely, and coughed. Hermione kept her stare straight ahead, ignoring his staring at her. "Well, about that offer I made-" He coughed again. "Would you? I mean, would you like to go with me to-"
Hermione interrupted him with a cough, and took advantage of Ron's abashed state to free her arm, and jumped ahead of him.
"Ah! Well, nice night, but I'm afraid I have to leave early now, you know - loads of paperwork and such to do on an experimentation thing I found, for the ministry, you know, so I must be leaving! Good bye!" And she turned around and began to job to the empty alleyway, which was only three blocks down the street, leaving behind a thunderstruck Ron, his arm still held out.
She ran into the alleyway, and in an instant she was back into her little home. She flew immediately to her big, soft chair, which was against the wall of her living room.
The first thought that raced across her head was that Harry needed a visit tomorrow, and that Ron didn't need one for a good solid year. She sadly got out of her comfortable chair, and went to put away the black clothes that were messily lying all over her bedroom.
She folded the dragon skin pants and placed them on a shelf in her closet, carefully laying each layer of her black outfit on top of them, and then placed her boots in the corner.
A large novel began calling to her from the dresser, and Hermione was compelled to sit for a late night read, but not before placing her black gloves into the pocket of a dark green robe that was hanging on the door knob.
Before long the book was laying on the nightstand, and she was snoring away, and for lack of better thoughts, the Phantom of the Opera there, inside her mind.
~*~
Oooh! Phantom of the Opera! Ooo!
So... how do you like? What would you like to see happen? TELL ME your ideas for 'Saturday Special' Rules, and I will probably use them!
I absolutely refuse to write any sort of war-thing... no war flash backs, no, "Remember that time, during the war...?" lines, no nothing. Most people try and write war stuff, and it sucks. I've read a few good ones, but... I know mine wouldn't be one of them, so I won't even try. I use this same excuse for not writing sorting hat songs. Heh.
By Mae Noelle and Ducky
Disclaimer -- Nothing is ours, I promise. Never has been, never will be. Gasp! Can you believe it?
AN - THANK you to my absolutely WONDERFUL reviewers! Especially Jade - my muse Ducky absolutely loves you, since you write the best reviews for our stories. JasperPress77, Porthos-the-Pirate, piper, Kneazle, tomato, spud snape, Moonlight Aurora, Machu Naru, Lily of the Shadow, Hermi Lu, Amethyst, Silverfox, Hungarian Horntail, Sarah Kingston, Chrissy, Ktie Eiknlng Snape, kittykat52788, sara, and Jade - thank you loads!
~3 -- Phantom -- 3~
Hermione dashed out on the cold dark streets of a town in Wales. The streetlights illuminated small pieces of the street, and were reflected in the many small pools of water lying everywhere.
She leapt from puddle to puddle, making for the alleyway she normally apparated out from.
In an instant she had apparated to her small house, de-blackified herself, and had tidied up for her out-on-the-town date with Harry and Ron. She sprayed another excruciatingly long spritz at her hair with some taming hair spray, and concentrated on the spot Harry had told her to meet them at.
She looked around the alleyway she had apparated to, and immediately saw a flaming red haired figure sitting on a crate, facing away from her.
"Ron!" She yelled, grinning as she saw him jump into the air.
"Geez, Hermione!" Ron said, breathing in deeply, and holding his hand over his heart. "I've been waiting forever, was beginning to think you wouldn't show,"
She laughed slightly still grinning, and looked around her. "Of course I would show - but looks like Harry didn't," She dropped her grin and furrowed her eyebrows, and turned quizzically to Ron.
"Ah, well," He lifted his arms behind his head and smiled helplessly. "You know Harry, always busy."
"Yes," Hermione said, tilter her head down, though still keeping her eyes level with his. "But Harry said he could make this,"
Ron coughed.
Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly, an odd thought forming in her head. "Ron, this wouldn't have anything to do with you asking him not to come, would it?" She narrowed her eyes further as she watched him blush.
"Hermione!" He hissed. "Why would I do such a thing? You know Harry's always got things popping up in his face, and the Minister of Magic gave him a call and Harry couldn't refuse, and he told me to say sorry..." He reached into his pockets and pulled out three tickets. "And he gave me these. it was supposed to be for all of us, for tonight, gifts from some Quidditch Seeker scout. For tonight. He said we should go see it, and give the third to some hobo we see on the way."
He gave her his sad pathetic look, one he was rather good at, and Hermione felt herself softening. Harry was always busy, and now Ron was all embarrassed. She sighed.
"Well, alright. sorry. what are the tickets for?" She tried to grab the tickets from Ron, but he playfully yanked them away.
Inside she cringed at the thought of spending the entire night alone with Ron, and racked her mind for an instant excuse to leave that wouldn't make her feel too guilty.
"It's for a musical of some sort, playing down at a London theater," He held them up again, and raised an eyebrow. "Phantom of the Opera, I do believe. Do you wanna go?"
His look was pleading, and she felt bad for even thinking of deserting him. but.
"All right," She said, and cringed again when Ron took the liberty of taking her arm, and smiled. She forced on a smile herself, and tried to keep up as he speed-walked towards the London Theater.
After a few blocks Hermione could see a long line protruding from large doors and a booth.
She went to stop at the end of the line, but Ron continued around them, up to the doors, and finally had to let go of Hermione to make his way through the crowd.
Hermione tried to give her confused look to Ron, but he was completely engrossed in looking important as he passed the elegantly dressed men and women.
Looking at the perfect attire of the people around her, Hermione suddenly became self-conscious and looked down at her dress robe, which was terribly plain, and was thankful that she hadn't gone with the normal pair of slacks and shirt that she had planned to wear. Ron, however, looked as though he knew of the show, and was wearing a sort of fancy tux like a waiter would wear, and completely contrasted with what he looked like from the neck up.
The man at the front of the doors eyed Ron as he bustled past the line, and was about to open his mouth in rebuke when Ron shoved two tickets in his face.
"Ah," The man said slowly, reading the tickets, then looking Ron and Hermione over. "Promotional tickets." He opened the door, and motioned with his hand to enter. "Have a good show," He sneered, and turned back to the crowd.
Hermione was about to open her mouth herself, when Ron grabbed her arm again, and was leading her through the large theater.
She stared at the beautiful paintings and things hanging on the walls, and kept expecting the paintings to move when she remembered she was in a muggle theater. She vaguely remembered the theater, from previous trips with her parents.
In another moment Hermione was being shoved into her seat, which was directly in the front, almost too close. They were seated off to the side, which slightly annoyed her - she didn't mind what row she was in, so long as she was in the middle. There was an impressive orchestra lined up in front of her, down a few feet from the seats level.
Ron sat down next to her, turned and smiled. Hermione turned and smiled slightly, and then turned to the front, focused on thinking about the next race to get her through the night.
Ron coughed at her side. "So. Hermione."
She turned hesitantly. "Yes?" She said slowly, trying hard not to appear agitated.
"Why were you so late today?" He looked intently into her eyes, and she felt suddenly uncomfortable. For a minute she considered telling Ron that she was the Black Rider winning the Unicorn Races the entire wizarding world watch, and then laugh as though she was being sarcastic, just to see what he would say.
"Well?" He said again, lifting an eyebrow as he studied her unfocused gaze.
She shook herself out of her little daydream, which involved Ron rolling on the ground laughing at the thought of her even thinking of entering the races, and looked up at Ron.
"Well," Hermione said slowly. "You know me, I just found an interesting book and got wrapped up in it." She grinned at her good excuse - that was so stereotypically her as Ron knew her that she doubted he would even think twice about the matter.
He grinned. "Harry said he came by your house today, to tell you himself that he couldn't make it, and that you weren't there." His grin widened.
"I got really, really wrapped up in my book?" She said slowly, raising her eyebrows.
"Hermione," He said warningly. "What are you hiding?"
"Nothing," She said quickly, realizing with a mental groan that she sounded very guilty. "I didn't say I was reading at my house, anyway. I was at a park." She turned and faced forward, studying the show curtain.
He turned to her, and she felt his eyes bore into the side of her head.
"Hermione," He said, in so serious a tone that she felt her eyes being magnetized towards the source. "Harry and I have been trying to contact you, and most of the time you are either not there, or completely ignoring us - on purpose."
She blinked. "What times have you tried to contact me? I've already told you - they put me on overtime at the Ministry, and I'm working on -"
"Hermione!" He hissed, and she stopped her excuses. "I'm talking about on your time off! Saturdays, Thursday nights. I tried calling you last Saturday, but you weren't there-"
"I told you, Ron, that I was called in for a special-"
"I contacted the Ministry and they said you were off for the night!" He yelled through a clenched jaw. He immediately looked around to see if anyone could have heard him.
Hermione looked away, furious. She actually had been called for a special meeting, Saturday morning. she couldn't justify out right lying. Lying wasn't really lying if you were doing It through a loophole.
"Well?" He said slowly, still boring a hole through her head. After she ignored him for a few more moments he said again, slightly hysterically, "Well?"
She turned her head sharply to the opposite side and glared stubbornly.
"Saturday nights. Thursday nights.. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were gone off to the Unicorn races." His hard glare softened a bit as the corners of his mouth started to twitch, and he quickly turned forward.
For a minute she was completely blown away, confused as to how Ron would have been able to guess. (It wasn't that hard, really, but. he's Ron.) He would have jumped straight away to hr having a secret boyfriend that she met exactly at the time of the unicorn races.
"I guess that by your silence that I guessed correctly." He started to grin. Hermione's brain raced. "I knew that you were lying when you said you hated watching the Unicorn races! You've been betting on them or something this whole time, haven't you? Is that why you keep going - because you've racked up a dept you gotta pay, and want to keep it a secret?" His grin widened as he turned back towards her. "Am I right?"
Hermione let out her breath, almost feeling like bursting out laughing at his logic.
"Ah, well, something like that," Hermions aid nervously, wanting to drop the subject.
"Do - do you go with anyone?" Ron said after a long, uncomfortable pause.
"No." She said flatly, looking to her right as she noticed the first people finally coming into their seats.
"Ah, well," Hermione watched him out of the corner of her eye look down into his lap, and twidle with his thumbs nervously.
She could almost see what was coming.
"I've heard the Unicorn Races are very good, but I haven't been to too many,"
Hermione turned her head forward. She closed her eyes and began to massage her temples, feeling the nervousness radiate from Ron.
"And since you know your way around the Underground City," Hermione could feel him grin. "I was wondering if you would accompany me to next Thursday's Unicorn Race?"
Hermione sighed into her hands, and let her hair fall and cover her face.
There was another uncomfortable pause, in which she could feel Ron shift and shift again and again in his seat, until finally a starting note was played from the orchestra in front of her.
She sighed again, though now in relief, and turned to the stage and watched the curtains open.
The musical was absolutely stunning, and by the end of it she was sure that if she had been in this, she would have run away with Erik, the poor guy. She had the insane urge to jump up and run away, before the musical play ended and she was forced to spend more time with Ron.
The beautiful music ended all too soon, with a storm of applause and a standing ovation. Hermione quickly made her way between the standing people, weaving in and out until she had gotten into the open air in front of the theater.
Ron, of course, had caught up quickly, and was once again holding her arm.
"What a wonderful, erm, play." Ron said quickly, seeing the dead expression on Hermione's face.
"It's a musical," She retorted, and tried again to be free of Ron.
"Yes, there was lots of music, wasn't there?" Ron said lamely, and coughed. Hermione kept her stare straight ahead, ignoring his staring at her. "Well, about that offer I made-" He coughed again. "Would you? I mean, would you like to go with me to-"
Hermione interrupted him with a cough, and took advantage of Ron's abashed state to free her arm, and jumped ahead of him.
"Ah! Well, nice night, but I'm afraid I have to leave early now, you know - loads of paperwork and such to do on an experimentation thing I found, for the ministry, you know, so I must be leaving! Good bye!" And she turned around and began to job to the empty alleyway, which was only three blocks down the street, leaving behind a thunderstruck Ron, his arm still held out.
She ran into the alleyway, and in an instant she was back into her little home. She flew immediately to her big, soft chair, which was against the wall of her living room.
The first thought that raced across her head was that Harry needed a visit tomorrow, and that Ron didn't need one for a good solid year. She sadly got out of her comfortable chair, and went to put away the black clothes that were messily lying all over her bedroom.
She folded the dragon skin pants and placed them on a shelf in her closet, carefully laying each layer of her black outfit on top of them, and then placed her boots in the corner.
A large novel began calling to her from the dresser, and Hermione was compelled to sit for a late night read, but not before placing her black gloves into the pocket of a dark green robe that was hanging on the door knob.
Before long the book was laying on the nightstand, and she was snoring away, and for lack of better thoughts, the Phantom of the Opera there, inside her mind.
~*~
Oooh! Phantom of the Opera! Ooo!
So... how do you like? What would you like to see happen? TELL ME your ideas for 'Saturday Special' Rules, and I will probably use them!
I absolutely refuse to write any sort of war-thing... no war flash backs, no, "Remember that time, during the war...?" lines, no nothing. Most people try and write war stuff, and it sucks. I've read a few good ones, but... I know mine wouldn't be one of them, so I won't even try. I use this same excuse for not writing sorting hat songs. Heh.