Old Favourites
By Underclass.
All Characters/places owned by JK Rowling
Hermione Granger sat at her favourite desk in the library of Hogwarts School for witchcraft and wizardry. It was positioned so that it got quite a bit of natural light from the windows, but not so much that it glared her vision too much. It was close to the Transfiguration section, which she had occasion to frequent, but in a relatively quiet part of the room. It was not so far forward that she could hear the chattering of groups just coming in, or be disturbed by the discussions between Madam Prince and whatever student she might be talking to. Nor was it so far back that she could hear the gossiping of students between the shelves. The library was a favourite gossiping point for many students. Many went down between the aisles and shelves, others sat at a large rectangular table near the widows. Hermione seldom wished to be disturbed in her studies, so she kept clear of these areas. It was also the part of the library that the Slytherins tended to stay away from. Possibly because her desk was known throughout the school as just that, Hermione's Desk. She occasionally found notes there addressed to her, often left by members of other houses unable to gain access to the Gryffindor Common Room. If a full day went by without Hermione sitting at her desk, there must be a good reason for it.
This had been her desk in Fourth Year, when Viktor Krum had also taken to spending long hours in the library. It was here that he asked her to the Yule Ball. It was here that she suddenly realised that he was more than some glamorous Quidditch player, he was a human being. And more importantly, a human being who took his studies quite seriously. That was the main reason why she accepted his offer. Ron and Harry, her two best friends at school, were not only immature in so many ways, they seldom put the effort into their schoolwork necessary to achieve what they were capable of, and what's more, they made fun of her for studying so much. And so it was that one of many evenings, when irritated with the pair of them she retreated to her sanctuary. And Viktor was there, as always.
But he was not his usual, sulky, studious self, there was something alive and excited about him. Whatever natural light had entered the library that dark day had long since retreated, and the students studied by torch and lamp light. There was a torch behind the Durmstrang student, exaggerating his broad shoulders, and a magic candle on one side of his desk, lighting his face. Suddenly, he looked quite attractive, and so sensible. He must be sensible to ask someone calm like Hermione to the Yule Ball, when so many girls were in his face giggling almost constantly.
So it was partly because he was serious, partly because she was annoyed with Harry and Ron, and partly because she was annoyed even more than usual with the girls in her year. And maybe a little bit of him being one of the most gifted sportsmen in the world, not that she cared too much about that of course.
She sighed, she was dreaming again, and in her sixth year. Girlish dreams were okay in Fourth Year, even her OWL year, but in sixth year she should know better. But she sighed. It was here that she thought he was going to kiss her for the first time, something he never got around to. He would have, at some stage, if not for him getting all shook up over that Rita Skeeter article, and thinking she might already be spoken for. Not that that was Harry's fault, it was hers if anyone's. She was still in touch with Victor, but she hadn't seen him in so long, her letters and his seemed more and more distant.
Then there was the question of Ron. Ron, who obviously fancied her, but about whom she was herself undecided. She cared about him, liked him, but. He could be so immature, and annoying, and his was hardly a face to stop traffic. Not that he was ugly, no, just. She didn't want to think about him right now, it made her feel like she was being mean to him. She turned back to her Transfiguration textbook: As with most spells this requires a specific wand movement, in this case an upwards spiral of the wrist throughout the incantation.
"Hermione, Hermione," she looked up and saw Seamus Finnigan on his hunkers beside her desk. She was taken aback, somewhat, Seamus, although very friendly with Hermione, very rarely spoke to her in the library, except to say hello or goodbye. But then again, the same went for most people. She smiled, and tried to look like she didn't mind him interrupting her.
"Yes, Seamus?"
"Howya doin'?"
"Fine, yourself?"
"Mighty. Listen, you couldn't give us a hand with something, could you?" Hermione was always flattered when people asked her for help. And was pleased that maybe this was a sign that Seamus was finally taking his studies seriously.
"Certainly, what are you studying?"
"Ah, it's not directly related to schoolwork, I'm afraid."
"Oh," she tried to sound as though she was disappointed, but the smile that played across Seamus's lips and eyes aroused her curiosity.
"There's a book I want to take out, for my own research. It's in the Restricted Section, and Madam Prince won't let me take it out without a teacher's slip. 'cept, the thing is, none a' them'll sign it for me, cos it's nothin' got to do with schoolwork."
"Have you tried asking them?"
"Ah, trust me, Hermione, none a' them'll sign for it. Not that there's an'thin' wrong with it, really," he added, watching the scepticism rising in her eyes, "I was just wonderin' whether you might put a spell on it to stop Madam Prince from spottin' me taking it out."
"Why don't you try an invisibility spell?"
"She's got sensors of some sort up at the door, doesn't work."
"Transportation jinx?"
"All the books in the library are immune to it."
"Turn it into something else?"
"Sensors'll pick it up."
"Calcipration hex?" Hermione tried, knowing I was a very advanced spell, probably beyond Seamus's range.
"Turns out there's a light on desk that flashes every time somebody attempts it."
Hermione was impressed that Seamus was capable of the Calcipration hex, but also impressed at his determination. There was obviously more to the sandy-haired Irishman than met the eye. She glanced up at Madam Prince's desk, a smile coming to her face.
"Seamus, how often have you tried to get this book out of the library?" She turned back, Seamus suddenly averted his eyes from her legs. He looked into her eyes, mischief alight in his face.
"Quite a bit." He wasn't pretending not to have looked at her legs, nor was he too suggestive. Hermione found herself strangely flattered.
"It's some immoral book, is it?"
"Not a'tall. I'll show it to you if you want. But be quiet, Madam Prince doesn't know I'm in here, and I'd rather keep it that way."
"You got in here without her seeing?"
"Yeah, she knows well I'm trying to get the book out, so she's been keepin' a sharp eye."
"How?"
"I brewed a Porous Potion," he said, nonplussed.
"You brewed a Porous Potion? You?"
"You're not the first in the year to do everything you know," he smiled.
"But, that's well above NEWT level, students aren't supposed. it's illegal. how did you?"
"I stole the ingredients I didn't have from Snape's office, brewed it in the Quidditch dressing rooms while the Gryffindors were practicing."
"You brewed it during the time it took to get in one Quidditch training session, in an hour?"
"Yeah, but I did it during a Gryffindor, session, so I knew no one would snitch on me. Pardon the pun."
"But it's illegal."
"If you don't get caught it's not."
"You broke into Snape's office, a well used dressing room, brewed an illegal potion, a very advanced illegal potion, at school, and used it to walk through the walls of the library? I don't believe you!"
Seamus was quite tired of people underestimating him. He'd gotten at least an E in all his OWLs, except Divination, which was a load of shite anyhow. "Believe this," he said and passed his hand right through her desk. She gazed, open mouthed. "Anything's possible if you have enough balls."
"I'll take your word for it! How long does it last?"
"It's wearing off already. But I have some more. Unfortunately, as I discovered, I can't take books out of the library with it, and it doesn't work on books. I could sort of feel the table that time, so I reckon the half gobletful I had about fifteen minutes ago, has about five minutes left."
"What if you get caught?"
"I'll say I didn't know it was illegal. There's no law against it in Ireland, see. Now, can you help me get this book out or not?"
It took Hermione a few seconds to revert to her usual position of being better at magic than everybody else. For a while she had been looking up to Seamus as though he were a far superior wizard. But someone who was sixteen, and able to brew a Porous Potion was asking her for help. She must be good!
'She must be good!' is exactly what Seamus was thinking as well, but in a very different way.
"Show me the book," said Hermione, "I'll see what I can do."
"Sound!"
They waited until they were sure Madam Prince wasn't looking then made for the aisles where she wouldn't be able to see them. As Seamus stood up, Hermione noticed that he had grown over the summer, and his shoulders were broader. The hint of round-facedness still remained. She wondered if he grown everywhere, then quickly stopped thinking about it again.
Seamus led her through passages to a quiet, dark enclave of the library.
"I got it out of the restricted section earlier, but can't get it any further." He stuck his hand into the wall, he had to push a bit, "wearing off quickly," He poked her shoulder, "gone."
Hermione surveyed the book, "Drinks of the World: A Wizard's Guide."
"I read about it in Drink! Magazine."
"I used to watch Fr. Ted. I can see how this might be unsuitable, Seamus, but what's the big deal? Why won't they let you borrow it?" She flicked through it, every page in the substantial book contained information on a different drink; ingredients, history, content.
"I'll show you," he said, quietly, ruffling through his robes, "What's your favourite Drink?" he produced a goblet and left it on the desk.
"Butterbeer, I guess," she answered.
"Any brand in particular?"
"Whatever they have in the Three Broomsticks."
"Magic Cow it is so," he took the book gently off her. Hermione, who had struggled a little to hold it watched as he effortlessly lifted it one- handed, and turned the pages until he found the extract on Magic cow butterbeer. Hermione recognised the label.
"That's it."
Seamus carefully put a dog's ear on the page in question and shut the book, then tilted it over the goblet. Hermione watched in amazement as butterbeer poured from the book as though it was a jug. She tasted some.
"It's butterbeer alright," she agreed, nice too. She finished the goblet.
"So far as I can tell, it has an infinite supply of every single drink they write about. Whiskey, vodka, liquor, even pure alcohol! Now, see why I'm going through such lengths?"
"Yeah, any tequila?"
"Loads." He poured them a tequila each, then a different brand of tequila, which they both preferred, so they had another. They had a pint of Guinness each, then vodka. After that Hermione tried to pour a cider that looked nice, but spilt it.
"Oops!" she said, "Evanesco!"
She looked up at Seamus. He was so handsome, and clever, he'd made a Porous Potion, and he was funny, he'd been making her laugh since the first tequila they had. She grabbed a hold of his shin, which was easy, because they were on their hunkers. He looked surprised.
"Just checking to see if you're whole again," she said naughtily.
Seamus surveyed the girl in front of him. He had always thought she was a looker, he was the only one who was not surprised to see her at the Yule Ball. Dean and others had remarked that she had suddenly turned into a ride. Seamus pointed out that he'd been telling them she'd been a fine young thing for years. and suddenly Seamus discovered that he was actually saying this out loud. And Hermione looked delighted with him.
She moved nearer. Seamus hadn't asked her to the Yule Ball, because he knew Ron was mad about her, and it seemed he still was. He didn't want to go for his friend's girl, but she wasn't Ron's was she? No, she was her own girl, he admired that about her.
Neither was sure who started it. Seamus finished pouring the cider Hermione had spilt. She drank some, looked up and said,
"This is vile," and next thing she knew neither of them could say anything, because their mouths were otherwise engaged. Hermione fell backwards into his arms and onto the floor, Seamus lay next to her. Both of them were delighted, but soon, for some reason, they stopped, even though neither of them wanted to. Seamus took her hands and stood up, dragging her to her feet. Her hair was, everywhere, but organised, somehow. They glanced at the desk, and Hermione was at Seamus's robes. Soon, without either of them being sure how, they were both on the desk, the book and goblet discarded. It seemed appropriate to Hermione that she should be in the library while she lost her virginity. It seemed appropriate to Seamus that he was drunk. But this was better. Much better.
Well, Hermione and Seamus did manage to think of an ingenious plan to get the book out of the library, but I'm sure you've long stopped caring about that.
Hermione Granger sat at her favourite desk in the library of Hogwarts School for witchcraft and wizardry. It was positioned so that it got quite a bit of natural light from the windows, but not so much that it glared her vision too much. It was close to the Transfiguration section, which she had occasion to frequent, but in a relatively quiet part of the room. It was not so far forward that she could hear the chattering of groups just coming in, or be disturbed by the discussions between Madam Prince and whatever student she might be talking to. Nor was it so far back that she could hear the gossiping of students between the shelves. The library was a favourite gossiping point for many students. Many went down between the aisles and shelves, others sat at a large rectangular table near the widows. Hermione seldom wished to be disturbed in her studies, so she kept clear of these areas. It was also the part of the library that the Slytherins tended to stay away from. Possibly because her desk was known throughout the school as just that, Hermione's Desk. She occasionally found notes there addressed to her, often left by members of other houses unable to gain access to the Gryffindor Common Room. If a full day went by without Hermione sitting at her desk, there must be a good reason for it.
This had been her desk in Fourth Year, when Viktor Krum had also taken to spending long hours in the library. It was here that he asked her to the Yule Ball. It was here that she suddenly realised that he was more than some glamorous Quidditch player, he was a human being. And more importantly, a human being who took his studies quite seriously. That was the main reason why she accepted his offer. Ron and Harry, her two best friends at school, were not only immature in so many ways, they seldom put the effort into their schoolwork necessary to achieve what they were capable of, and what's more, they made fun of her for studying so much. And so it was that one of many evenings, when irritated with the pair of them she retreated to her sanctuary. And Viktor was there, as always.
But he was not his usual, sulky, studious self, there was something alive and excited about him. Whatever natural light had entered the library that dark day had long since retreated, and the students studied by torch and lamp light. There was a torch behind the Durmstrang student, exaggerating his broad shoulders, and a magic candle on one side of his desk, lighting his face. Suddenly, he looked quite attractive, and so sensible. He must be sensible to ask someone calm like Hermione to the Yule Ball, when so many girls were in his face giggling almost constantly.
So it was partly because he was serious, partly because she was annoyed with Harry and Ron, and partly because she was annoyed even more than usual with the girls in her year. And maybe a little bit of him being one of the most gifted sportsmen in the world, not that she cared too much about that of course.
She sighed, she was dreaming again, and in her sixth year. Girlish dreams were okay in Fourth Year, even her OWL year, but in sixth year she should know better. But she sighed. It was here that she thought he was going to kiss her for the first time, something he never got around to. He would have, at some stage, if not for him getting all shook up over that Rita Skeeter article, and thinking she might already be spoken for. Not that that was Harry's fault, it was hers if anyone's. She was still in touch with Victor, but she hadn't seen him in so long, her letters and his seemed more and more distant.
Then there was the question of Ron. Ron, who obviously fancied her, but about whom she was herself undecided. She cared about him, liked him, but. He could be so immature, and annoying, and his was hardly a face to stop traffic. Not that he was ugly, no, just. She didn't want to think about him right now, it made her feel like she was being mean to him. She turned back to her Transfiguration textbook: As with most spells this requires a specific wand movement, in this case an upwards spiral of the wrist throughout the incantation.
"Hermione, Hermione," she looked up and saw Seamus Finnigan on his hunkers beside her desk. She was taken aback, somewhat, Seamus, although very friendly with Hermione, very rarely spoke to her in the library, except to say hello or goodbye. But then again, the same went for most people. She smiled, and tried to look like she didn't mind him interrupting her.
"Yes, Seamus?"
"Howya doin'?"
"Fine, yourself?"
"Mighty. Listen, you couldn't give us a hand with something, could you?" Hermione was always flattered when people asked her for help. And was pleased that maybe this was a sign that Seamus was finally taking his studies seriously.
"Certainly, what are you studying?"
"Ah, it's not directly related to schoolwork, I'm afraid."
"Oh," she tried to sound as though she was disappointed, but the smile that played across Seamus's lips and eyes aroused her curiosity.
"There's a book I want to take out, for my own research. It's in the Restricted Section, and Madam Prince won't let me take it out without a teacher's slip. 'cept, the thing is, none a' them'll sign it for me, cos it's nothin' got to do with schoolwork."
"Have you tried asking them?"
"Ah, trust me, Hermione, none a' them'll sign for it. Not that there's an'thin' wrong with it, really," he added, watching the scepticism rising in her eyes, "I was just wonderin' whether you might put a spell on it to stop Madam Prince from spottin' me taking it out."
"Why don't you try an invisibility spell?"
"She's got sensors of some sort up at the door, doesn't work."
"Transportation jinx?"
"All the books in the library are immune to it."
"Turn it into something else?"
"Sensors'll pick it up."
"Calcipration hex?" Hermione tried, knowing I was a very advanced spell, probably beyond Seamus's range.
"Turns out there's a light on desk that flashes every time somebody attempts it."
Hermione was impressed that Seamus was capable of the Calcipration hex, but also impressed at his determination. There was obviously more to the sandy-haired Irishman than met the eye. She glanced up at Madam Prince's desk, a smile coming to her face.
"Seamus, how often have you tried to get this book out of the library?" She turned back, Seamus suddenly averted his eyes from her legs. He looked into her eyes, mischief alight in his face.
"Quite a bit." He wasn't pretending not to have looked at her legs, nor was he too suggestive. Hermione found herself strangely flattered.
"It's some immoral book, is it?"
"Not a'tall. I'll show it to you if you want. But be quiet, Madam Prince doesn't know I'm in here, and I'd rather keep it that way."
"You got in here without her seeing?"
"Yeah, she knows well I'm trying to get the book out, so she's been keepin' a sharp eye."
"How?"
"I brewed a Porous Potion," he said, nonplussed.
"You brewed a Porous Potion? You?"
"You're not the first in the year to do everything you know," he smiled.
"But, that's well above NEWT level, students aren't supposed. it's illegal. how did you?"
"I stole the ingredients I didn't have from Snape's office, brewed it in the Quidditch dressing rooms while the Gryffindors were practicing."
"You brewed it during the time it took to get in one Quidditch training session, in an hour?"
"Yeah, but I did it during a Gryffindor, session, so I knew no one would snitch on me. Pardon the pun."
"But it's illegal."
"If you don't get caught it's not."
"You broke into Snape's office, a well used dressing room, brewed an illegal potion, a very advanced illegal potion, at school, and used it to walk through the walls of the library? I don't believe you!"
Seamus was quite tired of people underestimating him. He'd gotten at least an E in all his OWLs, except Divination, which was a load of shite anyhow. "Believe this," he said and passed his hand right through her desk. She gazed, open mouthed. "Anything's possible if you have enough balls."
"I'll take your word for it! How long does it last?"
"It's wearing off already. But I have some more. Unfortunately, as I discovered, I can't take books out of the library with it, and it doesn't work on books. I could sort of feel the table that time, so I reckon the half gobletful I had about fifteen minutes ago, has about five minutes left."
"What if you get caught?"
"I'll say I didn't know it was illegal. There's no law against it in Ireland, see. Now, can you help me get this book out or not?"
It took Hermione a few seconds to revert to her usual position of being better at magic than everybody else. For a while she had been looking up to Seamus as though he were a far superior wizard. But someone who was sixteen, and able to brew a Porous Potion was asking her for help. She must be good!
'She must be good!' is exactly what Seamus was thinking as well, but in a very different way.
"Show me the book," said Hermione, "I'll see what I can do."
"Sound!"
They waited until they were sure Madam Prince wasn't looking then made for the aisles where she wouldn't be able to see them. As Seamus stood up, Hermione noticed that he had grown over the summer, and his shoulders were broader. The hint of round-facedness still remained. She wondered if he grown everywhere, then quickly stopped thinking about it again.
Seamus led her through passages to a quiet, dark enclave of the library.
"I got it out of the restricted section earlier, but can't get it any further." He stuck his hand into the wall, he had to push a bit, "wearing off quickly," He poked her shoulder, "gone."
Hermione surveyed the book, "Drinks of the World: A Wizard's Guide."
"I read about it in Drink! Magazine."
"I used to watch Fr. Ted. I can see how this might be unsuitable, Seamus, but what's the big deal? Why won't they let you borrow it?" She flicked through it, every page in the substantial book contained information on a different drink; ingredients, history, content.
"I'll show you," he said, quietly, ruffling through his robes, "What's your favourite Drink?" he produced a goblet and left it on the desk.
"Butterbeer, I guess," she answered.
"Any brand in particular?"
"Whatever they have in the Three Broomsticks."
"Magic Cow it is so," he took the book gently off her. Hermione, who had struggled a little to hold it watched as he effortlessly lifted it one- handed, and turned the pages until he found the extract on Magic cow butterbeer. Hermione recognised the label.
"That's it."
Seamus carefully put a dog's ear on the page in question and shut the book, then tilted it over the goblet. Hermione watched in amazement as butterbeer poured from the book as though it was a jug. She tasted some.
"It's butterbeer alright," she agreed, nice too. She finished the goblet.
"So far as I can tell, it has an infinite supply of every single drink they write about. Whiskey, vodka, liquor, even pure alcohol! Now, see why I'm going through such lengths?"
"Yeah, any tequila?"
"Loads." He poured them a tequila each, then a different brand of tequila, which they both preferred, so they had another. They had a pint of Guinness each, then vodka. After that Hermione tried to pour a cider that looked nice, but spilt it.
"Oops!" she said, "Evanesco!"
She looked up at Seamus. He was so handsome, and clever, he'd made a Porous Potion, and he was funny, he'd been making her laugh since the first tequila they had. She grabbed a hold of his shin, which was easy, because they were on their hunkers. He looked surprised.
"Just checking to see if you're whole again," she said naughtily.
Seamus surveyed the girl in front of him. He had always thought she was a looker, he was the only one who was not surprised to see her at the Yule Ball. Dean and others had remarked that she had suddenly turned into a ride. Seamus pointed out that he'd been telling them she'd been a fine young thing for years. and suddenly Seamus discovered that he was actually saying this out loud. And Hermione looked delighted with him.
She moved nearer. Seamus hadn't asked her to the Yule Ball, because he knew Ron was mad about her, and it seemed he still was. He didn't want to go for his friend's girl, but she wasn't Ron's was she? No, she was her own girl, he admired that about her.
Neither was sure who started it. Seamus finished pouring the cider Hermione had spilt. She drank some, looked up and said,
"This is vile," and next thing she knew neither of them could say anything, because their mouths were otherwise engaged. Hermione fell backwards into his arms and onto the floor, Seamus lay next to her. Both of them were delighted, but soon, for some reason, they stopped, even though neither of them wanted to. Seamus took her hands and stood up, dragging her to her feet. Her hair was, everywhere, but organised, somehow. They glanced at the desk, and Hermione was at Seamus's robes. Soon, without either of them being sure how, they were both on the desk, the book and goblet discarded. It seemed appropriate to Hermione that she should be in the library while she lost her virginity. It seemed appropriate to Seamus that he was drunk. But this was better. Much better.
Well, Hermione and Seamus did manage to think of an ingenious plan to get the book out of the library, but I'm sure you've long stopped caring about that.