Disclaimer: I do not own that sexy beast Harry Potter. I do not own that sexy beast Harry Potter. [writes on blackboard a million times]
"Come along Harry, Quidditch practice!" Ron chirped, skidding to a stop before Harry, who was sitting on the couch. Harry looked up, bored.
"I'm not going." Ron gaped at him, eyes wide.
"But Harry! It's Quidditch! The only fun thing to do at Hogwart's! Why aren't you going?"
"I can't, Ron. Dumbledore took my broom away." Harry stated, his eyes dropping back to his feet. Ron gasped.
"The headmaster took your broom away?" Harry nodded.
"I thought you knew."
"No! That bloody bastard! Why would he do such a thing?" Ron stammered, starting to pace back and forth in the common room. Harry shrugged.
"He hasn't been himself lately. There is definitely something up with him." Harry sat up straighter, his eyes following Ron. His pupils moved back and forth, staring at Ron's feet.
"But, this doesn't make sense! You're the best Quidditch player we have! Why would he just take your broom away?"
"I don't know, Ron. I wish I did. Do you think..." Harry stopped himself from finishing.
"What?" Ron looked up, now standing still in front of Harry. Harry sighed, and shook his head.
"Nevermind." But Ron sat down on the couch beside him.
"No, tell me. Please." Ron took Harry's arm. Harry, feeling quite odd, shook his arm away.
"My god, Ron! No need to turn all fruity and girly on me!" He shouted. Ron gulped, blushing.
"Sorry. Just tell me what you were going to say." Harry pondered for a moment, as if he were choosing the perfect words. Finally he cleared his throat.
"Do you suppose Dumbledore has something to do with all these deaths?" Ron stared straight head, his mouth shut tightly.
"I don't know. But Harry, that's an awful thing to say! You shouldn't even be thinking things like that!"
"It was just a thought." Harry said quietly. Yes, it was true that things of that nature should never be said about Dumbledore. But that was the old headmaster. The new Dumbledore, well, now circumstances were different.
*
"I don't feel right about all this." Hermione stated loudly to Pansy. The two girls were in their dorm. They now had the dorm all to themselves, because of Bridgett's death. Pansy looked up from painting her nails.
"About what, Herms?" She looked back down, and continued to paint her nails black. Hermione had noticed how Pansy had recently just started wearing black polish, and heavy eyeliner. She had even started wearing black clothing.
"About Harry." Hermione whispered, almost too low for Pansy to hear. Pansy looked up again.
"Did you just say Harry?" Hermione nodded.
"What about him?"
"Honestly, do you listen? I don't feel right about him!" Pansy sat the polish bottle down.
"I don't understand." Hermione rolled her eyes.
"The way the world is right now, it just doesn't seem right, you know. I don't think I should date Harry anymore. Pansy gasped, almost knocking the bottle over on the bedspread.
"Hermione! Don't let things get to you! It will all be over soon. Don't break up with him."
"But it hardly feels as if we're going out." Hermione whispered, ever more quietly. Pansy sighed.
"Herms, do what you feel you need to do. I can't stop you, or make decisions for you. All I know is, you would be so much happier if you stayed with him. It's good to have a guy's shoulder to cry into, at times like this." She then picked up the nail polish brush, and started sweeping the inky black polish across her nails. Hermione laid down, her face staring straight ahead at the ceiling.
"But I could do that before." Hermione thought to herself. She knew that they didn't have to be going out, for her to be able to cry on his shoulder.
*
{N/A: Sorry guys. I won't be able to update for a week. My mom is going out of town and all, so ..yeah. But I get to stay with my friends! Hoorah! -boogies- But I promise, as soon as all this craziness is over, I shall write you all a big, long, juicy, interesting chapter. Just for you guys!..Julie}
"Come along Harry, Quidditch practice!" Ron chirped, skidding to a stop before Harry, who was sitting on the couch. Harry looked up, bored.
"I'm not going." Ron gaped at him, eyes wide.
"But Harry! It's Quidditch! The only fun thing to do at Hogwart's! Why aren't you going?"
"I can't, Ron. Dumbledore took my broom away." Harry stated, his eyes dropping back to his feet. Ron gasped.
"The headmaster took your broom away?" Harry nodded.
"I thought you knew."
"No! That bloody bastard! Why would he do such a thing?" Ron stammered, starting to pace back and forth in the common room. Harry shrugged.
"He hasn't been himself lately. There is definitely something up with him." Harry sat up straighter, his eyes following Ron. His pupils moved back and forth, staring at Ron's feet.
"But, this doesn't make sense! You're the best Quidditch player we have! Why would he just take your broom away?"
"I don't know, Ron. I wish I did. Do you think..." Harry stopped himself from finishing.
"What?" Ron looked up, now standing still in front of Harry. Harry sighed, and shook his head.
"Nevermind." But Ron sat down on the couch beside him.
"No, tell me. Please." Ron took Harry's arm. Harry, feeling quite odd, shook his arm away.
"My god, Ron! No need to turn all fruity and girly on me!" He shouted. Ron gulped, blushing.
"Sorry. Just tell me what you were going to say." Harry pondered for a moment, as if he were choosing the perfect words. Finally he cleared his throat.
"Do you suppose Dumbledore has something to do with all these deaths?" Ron stared straight head, his mouth shut tightly.
"I don't know. But Harry, that's an awful thing to say! You shouldn't even be thinking things like that!"
"It was just a thought." Harry said quietly. Yes, it was true that things of that nature should never be said about Dumbledore. But that was the old headmaster. The new Dumbledore, well, now circumstances were different.
*
"I don't feel right about all this." Hermione stated loudly to Pansy. The two girls were in their dorm. They now had the dorm all to themselves, because of Bridgett's death. Pansy looked up from painting her nails.
"About what, Herms?" She looked back down, and continued to paint her nails black. Hermione had noticed how Pansy had recently just started wearing black polish, and heavy eyeliner. She had even started wearing black clothing.
"About Harry." Hermione whispered, almost too low for Pansy to hear. Pansy looked up again.
"Did you just say Harry?" Hermione nodded.
"What about him?"
"Honestly, do you listen? I don't feel right about him!" Pansy sat the polish bottle down.
"I don't understand." Hermione rolled her eyes.
"The way the world is right now, it just doesn't seem right, you know. I don't think I should date Harry anymore. Pansy gasped, almost knocking the bottle over on the bedspread.
"Hermione! Don't let things get to you! It will all be over soon. Don't break up with him."
"But it hardly feels as if we're going out." Hermione whispered, ever more quietly. Pansy sighed.
"Herms, do what you feel you need to do. I can't stop you, or make decisions for you. All I know is, you would be so much happier if you stayed with him. It's good to have a guy's shoulder to cry into, at times like this." She then picked up the nail polish brush, and started sweeping the inky black polish across her nails. Hermione laid down, her face staring straight ahead at the ceiling.
"But I could do that before." Hermione thought to herself. She knew that they didn't have to be going out, for her to be able to cry on his shoulder.
*
{N/A: Sorry guys. I won't be able to update for a week. My mom is going out of town and all, so ..yeah. But I get to stay with my friends! Hoorah! -boogies- But I promise, as soon as all this craziness is over, I shall write you all a big, long, juicy, interesting chapter. Just for you guys!..Julie}