Title: A Change of Pace
Authors: Destria and Darkrose (moonstorm148@yahoo.com)
Series: Other Side of the Mirror (Part 5)
Note: The story takes place during Harry and co.'s 5th year. And, as far as we're concerned, OotP never happened. So, if you haven't read it, you're in no danger of catching spoilers.okay, maybe one or two.
~*~
As she was leaving the hall, she literally ran into Professor McGonagall, who asked to see Laine in her office before lunch. Laine nodded sheepishly, then continued her sprint towards the Gryffindor tower. After she grabbed her things and made it to Astronomy (barely on time), she spent the rest of the morning wondering.Okay, worrying, about what it was McGonagall wanted to talk to her about. Maybe the sorting hat had changed its' mind.Maybe her father had written the school and was pulling her out.
Not soon enough, it was lunchtime. She sprinted through the crowded corridor towards McGonagall's office. She reached the door and stood outside until she regained her composure, then knocked. A muffled voice called from inside and timidly she opened the door.
"You wanted to see me?" Laine asked quietly.
"Oh, yes, come in dear." Laine blinked at the endearment, but moved inside; sitting down in a plush chair upholstered in green tartan. McGonagall smiled from behind her spectacles. "I just need to finish this letter, then I'll be right with you." Laine nodded, smiling, and looked around the room.
The House and Quidditch cups glinted at her from a high shelf of one of many built-in bookcases that lined McGonagall's walls. She had three exceptionally large windows on one side, revealing a spectacular view of the lake and the forest. A fire crackled cheerfully in a hearth, next to the door Laine had entered through. It was very cozy in here, calming, even. Although she imagined it could be quite intimidating if one was in trouble. The shadows cast by the fire and dark woods absorbing most of the light could seem very ominous; or so she imagined.
"Well, then. I won't keep you long, and I know you're probably anxious to be getting to lunch," Laine nodded faintly. "I wonder how you would feel about a schedule change."
"A schedule change?" Laine asked, confused.
"Well," McGonagall seemed rather uncomfortable. "We've never done this before." Laine sighed. She didn't need to have any more exceptions made for her. "To put not too fine a point on it girl, your marks in both Muggle Studies and Transfiguration are remarkable, better than many of my seventh year students. We think that it might be better to move you up a year in both of those classes."
Laine could only blink at her. Move into the fifth year Transfiguration and Muggle Studies? Of course she'd do it! She'd been practically bored out of her mind in both of those classes since they began. 'Yes!' She wanted to yell, but instead, she simply asked, "How is this going to change my schedule?"
McGonagall looked pleased that Laine wasn't jumping at the chance, and explained that it was quite simple, really. "The only thing that is changing is the days you have lessons. At present, you have Transfiguration on," McGonagall referred to the piece of heavy parchment before her. "Monday and Friday mornings at 10:30. That will be when you will have your new Muggle Studies classes, and the time when you had your Muggle Studies will be when you have Transfiguration." she trailed off, looking once more at the parchment, "Tuesday and Thursday at 10:30."
Laine was quiet for a moment: pensive. Then she smiled. "When do I start?"
~*~
She felt like she could sing as she dashed into the Great Hall, waving a new schedule and grinning, her long blonde hair streaming out behind her like a banner. When she sat down next to Hermione, the boys looked at her, disgust evident in their expressions.
"What're you so happy about?" Ron asked. He seemed to be the one always left with that question. Laine could only shove the piece of paper at him, as her grin grew wider still. He looked at it, then back at her, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "You.Switched.Class periods?"
Laine couldn't help but laugh. "Something like that," she told him, still extraordinarily happy. Hermione shook her head at both of them, thumbing through her copy of "Hogwarts: A History". "What're you looking for Hermione?" She asked before attacking an apple with gusto.
"Oh, just re-reading. Not looking for anything in particular."
Laine raised an eyebrow at Harry and Ron, who both shrugged. Hermione was a law unto herself.
~*~
The rest of the week passed in what Laine would consider a blur, including the weekend. All too soon, it was Monday. It felt like the first day of term all over again, which, in a sense, it was. She was starting in her new Muggle Studies class...after potions, of course. McGonagall had thought it would be better to start her new classes at the beginning of a week, so that she didn't arrive in the middle of an assignment. The switch was going to wreak enough havoc with her marks as it was.
She bounced out of bed as early as ever, excited and nervous at the same time. She quickly braided her hair and coiled it onto her head in a bun. Snape deliberately tortured the girls who had long hair and the audacity to wear it down in his class. She had discovered this first-hand last Friday when he 'accidentally' nudged her as he walked by, and a bit of her hair catching fire from the flames heating her cauldron.
Nodding at her reflection, Laine tiptoed down the staircase and into the common room. Every day she had come out earlier than usual, and waited to see if her mysterious singer would give her another performance. But as of yet, her attempts had been in vain. She sighed, briefly looking around the common room as she settled her books in her bag. Then she bolted out the portrait hole; startling the Fat Lady, who protested groggily, "Off with her head!"
~*~
At breakfast, Laine had a hard time sitting still. She tried forcing herself to concentrate on reciting the American presidents in order from Washington to the current Bush, but kept getting hung up after Lincoln. By then, Ron had oozed out of bed, complaining bitterly about dratted Mondays anyway. He was equally disgusted with her energy as well as her brilliant smile. Although, he teased her less than he did Hermione, who was always cheery in the mornings.
Lain did notice, however, that throughout the meal, Harry and Hermione, who for once didn't have a book in her clutches, kept exchanging very knowing glances. Irritatingly knowing glances. She decided she'd bug Hermione about it later. In the meantime, she had a Potions lesson to survive and a new Muggle Studies class to alienate.
~*~
Well, Potions had been abysmal, as usual. For some reason unbeknownst to her, Snape actually seemed to like her. She stifled the urge to shudder. It was scary. She had slipped out of the dungeon as fast as she possibly could, narrowly avoiding a confrontation with the Professor. Laine walked as fast as she could to get to Muggle Studies early and not be yelled at for running.
Even after dodging hordes of other students, Laine still managed to be the second person in class, the first being a girl hidden behind a large book. Laine walked over and cleared her throat. 'Excuse me, but would you mind if I-" her voice escaped her as the girl looked up. "Hermione!"
"Laine," Hermione blinked, not sounding incredibly surprised. "What're you doing in her?"
She slid into the seat next to Hermione and explained the re-scheduling McGonagall had done. Nodding her understanding, Hermione grinned at her. It was clear from her expression that she wondered which other class had been toyed with. Laine smiled back, her face adorned with an expression of pure mischief.
The rest of the room had filled up around them, buzzing with conversation, some of it about the new girl in class, though most of it was about test marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It seemed many of them had just come from there, and were anxiously awaiting the results of said test.
The Muggle Studies Professor smiled when he called them to order, briefly introducing Laine, then opening a discussion about Muggle forms of communication. Towards the end of class, he removed a small beige machine from a cabinet next to his desk, setting it where everyone could see.
"This," he said grinning. "Is a telephone. I want a foot long essay about the uses, misuses, and reasons for the use of a telephone by next class." Many of the students grumbled, while a few actually looked excited. Hermione had her face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Laine had to stuff a fist in her mouth to keep from doing the same. Telephones, indeed.
~*~
"What's that?" Ron asked, pointing with his apple at the essay Hermione was working on.
"My essay for Muggle Studies," she replied absently, hissing as an unwanted blob of ink dripped onto her parchment.
"Whazzit 'bout?" he said around a mouthful of fruit.
"Swallow before talking to me, please," she answered, pulling a diagram closer to her face. "It's on the uses, misuses, and reasons for the usage of a telephone." Laine stifled laughter as Hermione quoted exactly what their professor had said.
"Why write an essay about a fellytone?" Ron asked Harry honestly.
"Telephone," he corrected.
"Whatever," Ron waved his apple again. "Why're you doing homework now, anyway? It's a beautiful day outside, and the sun hasn't set. We could go for a walk around the lake before dinner."
"I have work to do, Ron. As do you, if you'll care to remember?" Hermione protested.
"Eh, we've got all the time after dinner to work on it, besides, we don't have those classes for at least a day. I'll do it tomorrow."
Hermione sighed irritably. It was obviously a battle long-fought, and long lost on her side. "You go ahead, I want to finish this before dinner if at all possible. I only need another inch or so."
"So write bigger," Harry suggested. Hermione's head snapped up, and she looked at him with such an appalled expression that he quailed. "Fine, fine, I take it back."
"Why don't you and Laine go, Ron?" Hermione asked, changing the subject. Ron paled a little and Harry tried not to snicker.Much. "She's done with all of her work."
"Oh.Well, I suppose we cou- wait a minute! Someone finishing his or her homework before the great, wondrous Hermione Granger?" Ron sounded impressed. "In that case," he bowed to Laine, making every girl in the room giggle incessantly. "I would consider it a privilege to escort such an extraordinary young lady around the lake." He gallantly offered his arm.
Laine, her cheeks turning slightly pink, glared daggers at Hermione and Harry. Now she knew what they had been plotting- public humiliation. Was it because she was younger and in Hermione's classes, or was it because she was a Malfoy, or was it simply because they could? "I would be glad to," she pitched her voice to carry, giving it the authoritative tone that was instilled in every Malfoy at birth.
Ron looked surprised when she accepted his arm. "Right," he squeaked. "I mean, uh, right. Let's be off, then, shall we?" They waved airily at their companions, then slipped out through the portrait hole.
"PDA!" The Fat Lady yelled indignantly as they marched down the hallway, Laine's hand still about Ron's arm. "PDA!"
They managed to get about fifteen yards away before they both started cracking up. Laine leaning against a wall for support and sunk to the floor when her knees went out beneath her. Tears were streaming from corners of her eyes; she was laughing so hard. Her mirth subsided just enough for her to see Ron in a similar predicament, although he wasn't crying or sitting down.yet.
"That," she gasped for air. "Was so funny! Hilarious!" Ron nodded mutely. "Although." Laine's giggles had all but subsided. "With what the Fat Lady was screaming, Drano's going to kick your butt."
"Drano?" Ron snorted.
Laine grinned. "I was writing him an email, and the spell-checker suggested that I change Draco to." She stopped at Ron's confused look. "Never mind, Just think of this: Drano is a cleaner Muggles use to unclog pipes."
That startled Ron into laughter.
"Ooooooh." Laine nodded. "Yep, Drano's definitely going to kick your butt!"
"Well," Ron managed to croak. "Let him try. I am a great deal taller than him, you know."
"All the better to aim for, my dear," Laine said grinning.
Ron didn't get the reference, but he laughed anyway. "So how about that walk?" He asked after a moment, when both of them were a bit calmer.
Laine studied his face, then grinned. "Lead on, captain my captain. There's just one small problem."
"What's that?" Ron asked, expecting another comical remark.
"I don't think I can get up." Laine's face and voice were perfectly serious.
"Oh.Well, I can help you with that."
"HALLELUJAH!" She shouted, accenting her voice to sound like a person from the Southeastern United States. "PRAISE JESUS! MY SAVIOR HAS RETURNED!"
Ron took a step back. "Maybe I should leave you there.until you're a bit sober at least."
Laine waved a hand. "Nah, what fun would that be?" He raised an eyebrow. She stuck out her bottom lip and turned on the innocent, deer-in-the- headlights look. "Who could resist this face?"
"Obviously not me," Ron murmured, stepping forward to help her up. "Let's just hope that our resident prefects don't decide to walk by right now, eh?"
"That could be bad."
"Indeed." He offered her his hands, grasping her wrists tightly. "Okay, on three. One.two.three!" He pulled and she gave about as much effort as she could.which wasn't much, but it still succeeded in vaulting her up off of the floor. "Whoa, there!" As fate had it, she had catapulted straight into Ron, and, as reflex, his arms had closed about her. "Hello," he murmured softly.
"Hi," she whispered sheepishly.
"Honestly, I think we should try marketing them down in Hogsm-" the familiar voice stopped. "Are we interrupting something, little Bro?" George asked, his grin obvious in the tone of his voice.
"Because if you'd like a bit more privacy, may I suggest the comfort of our very own Common room, only about twelve yards away?" Fred added wickedly.
"Fifteen." George corrected.
"Whatever," the other twin snapped.
Laine twisted in Ron's involuntary embrace (that oddly enough had not loosened in the slightest) so she could see the twins. "But it's so much more comfortable out here, without all those prying eyes. Besides, you are interrupting." She reached up, putting her hands behind Ron's head. "Now, if you'll excuse us." she turned back to Ron, and pulled his face towards hers, kissing him gently, but making it look much more passionate than it really was.
After a moment she pulled away, smiling sweetly at Ron. "Thanks, sweetie. We can finish this later, okay?" She kissed him on the cheek, whispering 'raincheck on that walk, all right?' in his ear, then waved to the twins. Then she sauntered over to the portrait hole, whispering the password to the Fat Lady and entered; leaving the twins to stare at Ron in a mixture of shock and approval.
~*~
"Daaaaaaaaaang," Fred grinned as the portrait closed behind Laine.
George merely whistled.
"How did you snag a girl like her?" Fred asked, slinging an arm around Ron's neck.
"I have no clue."
"Ron, dear, we knew that," George slung his arm over Ron's shoulder from the other side. "Still though.Mrrrrrrrrrrrrow."
"Hey!" Ron exclaimed indignantly.
"Wait a second, isn't that Malfoy's little sister?"
"Um.Yeah?" Both of the twins looked at him with haunted looks. "So what?" Ron asked.
"Hmm.too bad," George sighed. "She is FINE."
George shook his head. "Do no, I repeat, do NOT let her brother find out."
"Why not?"
Fred shook his head. "Poor ignorant boy..Think of it this way- what would be your first reaction if you found out that Ginny was banging.oh.say, Crabbe?"
Ron shrugged. "She's got better taste than that."
"Okay, fine," George inserted irritably. "Say it was Harry."
Instantly, Ron's temper flared. "I'd kill him."
"Exactly," the twins said in unison.
"So," Fred said conversationally as they approached the Fat Lady.
"Don't let Draco find out." George finished. "Okay?"
"Um.okay." Ron replied uncertainly.
"Bizarre Circumstances," Fred told the Fat Lady with a grin.
She nodded curtly as she swung open. "They certainly are!"
~*~
Ron was pacing. And had been pacing for some time. For hours, in fact. He was beginning to drive Harry stark raving mad. He had barely eaten dinner, kept tapping absently on anything he could get his hands on. He hadn't looked Laine in the eye since their little 'walk', and most of all, had not spoken a single WORD all evening.
Hermione had kicked him out of the Common room, he was so irritating. Harry was tempted to try and kick him our of their room, but he knew it would never work.
"All right, ENOUGH!" He shouted, startling Ron out of his self-imposed trance enough to simply give him a blank look. "You haven't spoken, barely ate, and are driving all of us MAD. What is going on?"
Ron only blinked.
"And," Harry continued significantly, figuring this would get him to talk. "You haven't looked at Laine once since you came back this afternoon."
Ron paled and sat down with a huge sigh. "That's not entirely true."
"HA!" Harry shot back, crossing his arms. "You usually can't take your eyes off the girl, and if you've really looked at her more than twice since this afternoon, I'll eat my hat."
"Okay, you win." Ron sighed again. "Well, okay, here's what happened." He trailed off, either lost in his own thoughts or deciding where to begin.
"Ron?"
"What? Oh.Oh, right.Well, you saw us walk out, trying to show you all up with the whole gallantry act and everything." he trailed off again.
"RON!" Harry said sharply.
"I'm getting there, I'm getting there, keep your shirt on." He took a deep breath and continued. "So the Fat Lady sees us, arm in arm as it were, and started screaming 'PDA! PDA!' Then we were, eh, fifteen yards from the Portrait when we started just losing it," he looked at the expression on Harry's face- somewhere between hilarity and incredulity- and wrinkled his nose. "Not like that! We were laughing.she laughed so hard that she sank to the floor, crying."
"Crying?" Harry interjected.
"Because she was laughing so hard, you nitwit."
"Oh. Go on, then."
"Anyway, after we had calmed down a bit, I offered to help her up."
"Ooh, the plot thickens," Harry murmured, too much like Ginny for comfort.
Ron sighed. "So, I grabbed her wrists, we counted to three." he shrugged. "She pushed up off the floor and I pulled her at the same time, and.well.she was basically." he stumbled over the words.
"Spit it out, already!"
"Well, for lack of a better word, she was launched into my arms, all right?"
"She was what?" Harry squealed.
Ron flushed. "Mmhmm. Then Fred and George walked up."
"Perfect timing, as ever."
"Naturally. They wanted to know if they were interrupting anything.I was too shocked to say anything. So Laine, quick as you please, as quirky and outspoken as ever replies that yes, as a matter of fact they were and casual as can be, she pulls me down to kisses me!"
Harry gave a whoop of triumph. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! I BLOODY KNEW IT!"
"Get off it, Harry, she was just acting."
"Well, then she must be a damn good actress. Then what happened?"
"Well, then she says, "we can finish this later, sweetie," kisses me on the cheek, and saunters over to the portrait hole."
"She called you sweetie?" Harry asked, his voice rather shrill. Ron couldn't tell if he was laughing or impressed.
"Yeah," Ron mumbled. "Lucky me."
"Hell yes, lucky you!"
"Excuse me?" Ron gave him a sharp look.
"Well, she may be a Malfoy, but she's gorgeous, everyone agrees-"
Ron groaned. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."
"Oh shut up and listen to me. So honestly, it's not just you with your eye on her. Even Seamus has made a few rather.erm.compromising remarks."
Ron just stared at him blankly.
"Obviously not to her face, or Seamus would be in a very sorry state. Anyway," he said quickly, abruptly changing the subject. "Let's review the evidence." He started ticking off his fingers. "She consented to go on a walk alone with you, she took your arm, she let you help her up-"
"Actually she asked me to help her up," Ron murmured faintly.
"Exactly. Anyway- she kissed you, she kissed you again, called you sweetie.have I missed anything?"
Indeed he had, the fact that the two of them had stood there hugging silently for a moment, incredibly close to eachother before the twins had arrived, that and what she had whispered before sauntering off.but Ron had, erm, 'neglected' to tell Harry that teeny, tiny, insignificant little detail.
"Nope, that's about it," He said quietly.
"About?"
"That's it, Harry, drop it."
"Oh, but it's so fun."
"I'm so sure. I'm going to bed. We have to deal with Snape tomorrow."
"Right," Harry agreed. "Good idea."
After the lights were off and both of them were in bed, Ron finally let himself grin uncontrollably into his pillow. He was, after all, safe under the cover of darkness.
"G'night, Ron," he heard from the next bed over.
"Indeed it is, Harry. Indeed it is," he murmured to himself, pressing fingers to lips that still tingled delightfully and remembering the clean scent of her hair.It had turned out to be a very goof night after all.
~*~
End part 5.
Authors: Destria and Darkrose (moonstorm148@yahoo.com)
Series: Other Side of the Mirror (Part 5)
Note: The story takes place during Harry and co.'s 5th year. And, as far as we're concerned, OotP never happened. So, if you haven't read it, you're in no danger of catching spoilers.okay, maybe one or two.
~*~
As she was leaving the hall, she literally ran into Professor McGonagall, who asked to see Laine in her office before lunch. Laine nodded sheepishly, then continued her sprint towards the Gryffindor tower. After she grabbed her things and made it to Astronomy (barely on time), she spent the rest of the morning wondering.Okay, worrying, about what it was McGonagall wanted to talk to her about. Maybe the sorting hat had changed its' mind.Maybe her father had written the school and was pulling her out.
Not soon enough, it was lunchtime. She sprinted through the crowded corridor towards McGonagall's office. She reached the door and stood outside until she regained her composure, then knocked. A muffled voice called from inside and timidly she opened the door.
"You wanted to see me?" Laine asked quietly.
"Oh, yes, come in dear." Laine blinked at the endearment, but moved inside; sitting down in a plush chair upholstered in green tartan. McGonagall smiled from behind her spectacles. "I just need to finish this letter, then I'll be right with you." Laine nodded, smiling, and looked around the room.
The House and Quidditch cups glinted at her from a high shelf of one of many built-in bookcases that lined McGonagall's walls. She had three exceptionally large windows on one side, revealing a spectacular view of the lake and the forest. A fire crackled cheerfully in a hearth, next to the door Laine had entered through. It was very cozy in here, calming, even. Although she imagined it could be quite intimidating if one was in trouble. The shadows cast by the fire and dark woods absorbing most of the light could seem very ominous; or so she imagined.
"Well, then. I won't keep you long, and I know you're probably anxious to be getting to lunch," Laine nodded faintly. "I wonder how you would feel about a schedule change."
"A schedule change?" Laine asked, confused.
"Well," McGonagall seemed rather uncomfortable. "We've never done this before." Laine sighed. She didn't need to have any more exceptions made for her. "To put not too fine a point on it girl, your marks in both Muggle Studies and Transfiguration are remarkable, better than many of my seventh year students. We think that it might be better to move you up a year in both of those classes."
Laine could only blink at her. Move into the fifth year Transfiguration and Muggle Studies? Of course she'd do it! She'd been practically bored out of her mind in both of those classes since they began. 'Yes!' She wanted to yell, but instead, she simply asked, "How is this going to change my schedule?"
McGonagall looked pleased that Laine wasn't jumping at the chance, and explained that it was quite simple, really. "The only thing that is changing is the days you have lessons. At present, you have Transfiguration on," McGonagall referred to the piece of heavy parchment before her. "Monday and Friday mornings at 10:30. That will be when you will have your new Muggle Studies classes, and the time when you had your Muggle Studies will be when you have Transfiguration." she trailed off, looking once more at the parchment, "Tuesday and Thursday at 10:30."
Laine was quiet for a moment: pensive. Then she smiled. "When do I start?"
~*~
She felt like she could sing as she dashed into the Great Hall, waving a new schedule and grinning, her long blonde hair streaming out behind her like a banner. When she sat down next to Hermione, the boys looked at her, disgust evident in their expressions.
"What're you so happy about?" Ron asked. He seemed to be the one always left with that question. Laine could only shove the piece of paper at him, as her grin grew wider still. He looked at it, then back at her, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "You.Switched.Class periods?"
Laine couldn't help but laugh. "Something like that," she told him, still extraordinarily happy. Hermione shook her head at both of them, thumbing through her copy of "Hogwarts: A History". "What're you looking for Hermione?" She asked before attacking an apple with gusto.
"Oh, just re-reading. Not looking for anything in particular."
Laine raised an eyebrow at Harry and Ron, who both shrugged. Hermione was a law unto herself.
~*~
The rest of the week passed in what Laine would consider a blur, including the weekend. All too soon, it was Monday. It felt like the first day of term all over again, which, in a sense, it was. She was starting in her new Muggle Studies class...after potions, of course. McGonagall had thought it would be better to start her new classes at the beginning of a week, so that she didn't arrive in the middle of an assignment. The switch was going to wreak enough havoc with her marks as it was.
She bounced out of bed as early as ever, excited and nervous at the same time. She quickly braided her hair and coiled it onto her head in a bun. Snape deliberately tortured the girls who had long hair and the audacity to wear it down in his class. She had discovered this first-hand last Friday when he 'accidentally' nudged her as he walked by, and a bit of her hair catching fire from the flames heating her cauldron.
Nodding at her reflection, Laine tiptoed down the staircase and into the common room. Every day she had come out earlier than usual, and waited to see if her mysterious singer would give her another performance. But as of yet, her attempts had been in vain. She sighed, briefly looking around the common room as she settled her books in her bag. Then she bolted out the portrait hole; startling the Fat Lady, who protested groggily, "Off with her head!"
~*~
At breakfast, Laine had a hard time sitting still. She tried forcing herself to concentrate on reciting the American presidents in order from Washington to the current Bush, but kept getting hung up after Lincoln. By then, Ron had oozed out of bed, complaining bitterly about dratted Mondays anyway. He was equally disgusted with her energy as well as her brilliant smile. Although, he teased her less than he did Hermione, who was always cheery in the mornings.
Lain did notice, however, that throughout the meal, Harry and Hermione, who for once didn't have a book in her clutches, kept exchanging very knowing glances. Irritatingly knowing glances. She decided she'd bug Hermione about it later. In the meantime, she had a Potions lesson to survive and a new Muggle Studies class to alienate.
~*~
Well, Potions had been abysmal, as usual. For some reason unbeknownst to her, Snape actually seemed to like her. She stifled the urge to shudder. It was scary. She had slipped out of the dungeon as fast as she possibly could, narrowly avoiding a confrontation with the Professor. Laine walked as fast as she could to get to Muggle Studies early and not be yelled at for running.
Even after dodging hordes of other students, Laine still managed to be the second person in class, the first being a girl hidden behind a large book. Laine walked over and cleared her throat. 'Excuse me, but would you mind if I-" her voice escaped her as the girl looked up. "Hermione!"
"Laine," Hermione blinked, not sounding incredibly surprised. "What're you doing in her?"
She slid into the seat next to Hermione and explained the re-scheduling McGonagall had done. Nodding her understanding, Hermione grinned at her. It was clear from her expression that she wondered which other class had been toyed with. Laine smiled back, her face adorned with an expression of pure mischief.
The rest of the room had filled up around them, buzzing with conversation, some of it about the new girl in class, though most of it was about test marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It seemed many of them had just come from there, and were anxiously awaiting the results of said test.
The Muggle Studies Professor smiled when he called them to order, briefly introducing Laine, then opening a discussion about Muggle forms of communication. Towards the end of class, he removed a small beige machine from a cabinet next to his desk, setting it where everyone could see.
"This," he said grinning. "Is a telephone. I want a foot long essay about the uses, misuses, and reasons for the use of a telephone by next class." Many of the students grumbled, while a few actually looked excited. Hermione had her face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Laine had to stuff a fist in her mouth to keep from doing the same. Telephones, indeed.
~*~
"What's that?" Ron asked, pointing with his apple at the essay Hermione was working on.
"My essay for Muggle Studies," she replied absently, hissing as an unwanted blob of ink dripped onto her parchment.
"Whazzit 'bout?" he said around a mouthful of fruit.
"Swallow before talking to me, please," she answered, pulling a diagram closer to her face. "It's on the uses, misuses, and reasons for the usage of a telephone." Laine stifled laughter as Hermione quoted exactly what their professor had said.
"Why write an essay about a fellytone?" Ron asked Harry honestly.
"Telephone," he corrected.
"Whatever," Ron waved his apple again. "Why're you doing homework now, anyway? It's a beautiful day outside, and the sun hasn't set. We could go for a walk around the lake before dinner."
"I have work to do, Ron. As do you, if you'll care to remember?" Hermione protested.
"Eh, we've got all the time after dinner to work on it, besides, we don't have those classes for at least a day. I'll do it tomorrow."
Hermione sighed irritably. It was obviously a battle long-fought, and long lost on her side. "You go ahead, I want to finish this before dinner if at all possible. I only need another inch or so."
"So write bigger," Harry suggested. Hermione's head snapped up, and she looked at him with such an appalled expression that he quailed. "Fine, fine, I take it back."
"Why don't you and Laine go, Ron?" Hermione asked, changing the subject. Ron paled a little and Harry tried not to snicker.Much. "She's done with all of her work."
"Oh.Well, I suppose we cou- wait a minute! Someone finishing his or her homework before the great, wondrous Hermione Granger?" Ron sounded impressed. "In that case," he bowed to Laine, making every girl in the room giggle incessantly. "I would consider it a privilege to escort such an extraordinary young lady around the lake." He gallantly offered his arm.
Laine, her cheeks turning slightly pink, glared daggers at Hermione and Harry. Now she knew what they had been plotting- public humiliation. Was it because she was younger and in Hermione's classes, or was it because she was a Malfoy, or was it simply because they could? "I would be glad to," she pitched her voice to carry, giving it the authoritative tone that was instilled in every Malfoy at birth.
Ron looked surprised when she accepted his arm. "Right," he squeaked. "I mean, uh, right. Let's be off, then, shall we?" They waved airily at their companions, then slipped out through the portrait hole.
"PDA!" The Fat Lady yelled indignantly as they marched down the hallway, Laine's hand still about Ron's arm. "PDA!"
They managed to get about fifteen yards away before they both started cracking up. Laine leaning against a wall for support and sunk to the floor when her knees went out beneath her. Tears were streaming from corners of her eyes; she was laughing so hard. Her mirth subsided just enough for her to see Ron in a similar predicament, although he wasn't crying or sitting down.yet.
"That," she gasped for air. "Was so funny! Hilarious!" Ron nodded mutely. "Although." Laine's giggles had all but subsided. "With what the Fat Lady was screaming, Drano's going to kick your butt."
"Drano?" Ron snorted.
Laine grinned. "I was writing him an email, and the spell-checker suggested that I change Draco to." She stopped at Ron's confused look. "Never mind, Just think of this: Drano is a cleaner Muggles use to unclog pipes."
That startled Ron into laughter.
"Ooooooh." Laine nodded. "Yep, Drano's definitely going to kick your butt!"
"Well," Ron managed to croak. "Let him try. I am a great deal taller than him, you know."
"All the better to aim for, my dear," Laine said grinning.
Ron didn't get the reference, but he laughed anyway. "So how about that walk?" He asked after a moment, when both of them were a bit calmer.
Laine studied his face, then grinned. "Lead on, captain my captain. There's just one small problem."
"What's that?" Ron asked, expecting another comical remark.
"I don't think I can get up." Laine's face and voice were perfectly serious.
"Oh.Well, I can help you with that."
"HALLELUJAH!" She shouted, accenting her voice to sound like a person from the Southeastern United States. "PRAISE JESUS! MY SAVIOR HAS RETURNED!"
Ron took a step back. "Maybe I should leave you there.until you're a bit sober at least."
Laine waved a hand. "Nah, what fun would that be?" He raised an eyebrow. She stuck out her bottom lip and turned on the innocent, deer-in-the- headlights look. "Who could resist this face?"
"Obviously not me," Ron murmured, stepping forward to help her up. "Let's just hope that our resident prefects don't decide to walk by right now, eh?"
"That could be bad."
"Indeed." He offered her his hands, grasping her wrists tightly. "Okay, on three. One.two.three!" He pulled and she gave about as much effort as she could.which wasn't much, but it still succeeded in vaulting her up off of the floor. "Whoa, there!" As fate had it, she had catapulted straight into Ron, and, as reflex, his arms had closed about her. "Hello," he murmured softly.
"Hi," she whispered sheepishly.
"Honestly, I think we should try marketing them down in Hogsm-" the familiar voice stopped. "Are we interrupting something, little Bro?" George asked, his grin obvious in the tone of his voice.
"Because if you'd like a bit more privacy, may I suggest the comfort of our very own Common room, only about twelve yards away?" Fred added wickedly.
"Fifteen." George corrected.
"Whatever," the other twin snapped.
Laine twisted in Ron's involuntary embrace (that oddly enough had not loosened in the slightest) so she could see the twins. "But it's so much more comfortable out here, without all those prying eyes. Besides, you are interrupting." She reached up, putting her hands behind Ron's head. "Now, if you'll excuse us." she turned back to Ron, and pulled his face towards hers, kissing him gently, but making it look much more passionate than it really was.
After a moment she pulled away, smiling sweetly at Ron. "Thanks, sweetie. We can finish this later, okay?" She kissed him on the cheek, whispering 'raincheck on that walk, all right?' in his ear, then waved to the twins. Then she sauntered over to the portrait hole, whispering the password to the Fat Lady and entered; leaving the twins to stare at Ron in a mixture of shock and approval.
~*~
"Daaaaaaaaaang," Fred grinned as the portrait closed behind Laine.
George merely whistled.
"How did you snag a girl like her?" Fred asked, slinging an arm around Ron's neck.
"I have no clue."
"Ron, dear, we knew that," George slung his arm over Ron's shoulder from the other side. "Still though.Mrrrrrrrrrrrrow."
"Hey!" Ron exclaimed indignantly.
"Wait a second, isn't that Malfoy's little sister?"
"Um.Yeah?" Both of the twins looked at him with haunted looks. "So what?" Ron asked.
"Hmm.too bad," George sighed. "She is FINE."
George shook his head. "Do no, I repeat, do NOT let her brother find out."
"Why not?"
Fred shook his head. "Poor ignorant boy..Think of it this way- what would be your first reaction if you found out that Ginny was banging.oh.say, Crabbe?"
Ron shrugged. "She's got better taste than that."
"Okay, fine," George inserted irritably. "Say it was Harry."
Instantly, Ron's temper flared. "I'd kill him."
"Exactly," the twins said in unison.
"So," Fred said conversationally as they approached the Fat Lady.
"Don't let Draco find out." George finished. "Okay?"
"Um.okay." Ron replied uncertainly.
"Bizarre Circumstances," Fred told the Fat Lady with a grin.
She nodded curtly as she swung open. "They certainly are!"
~*~
Ron was pacing. And had been pacing for some time. For hours, in fact. He was beginning to drive Harry stark raving mad. He had barely eaten dinner, kept tapping absently on anything he could get his hands on. He hadn't looked Laine in the eye since their little 'walk', and most of all, had not spoken a single WORD all evening.
Hermione had kicked him out of the Common room, he was so irritating. Harry was tempted to try and kick him our of their room, but he knew it would never work.
"All right, ENOUGH!" He shouted, startling Ron out of his self-imposed trance enough to simply give him a blank look. "You haven't spoken, barely ate, and are driving all of us MAD. What is going on?"
Ron only blinked.
"And," Harry continued significantly, figuring this would get him to talk. "You haven't looked at Laine once since you came back this afternoon."
Ron paled and sat down with a huge sigh. "That's not entirely true."
"HA!" Harry shot back, crossing his arms. "You usually can't take your eyes off the girl, and if you've really looked at her more than twice since this afternoon, I'll eat my hat."
"Okay, you win." Ron sighed again. "Well, okay, here's what happened." He trailed off, either lost in his own thoughts or deciding where to begin.
"Ron?"
"What? Oh.Oh, right.Well, you saw us walk out, trying to show you all up with the whole gallantry act and everything." he trailed off again.
"RON!" Harry said sharply.
"I'm getting there, I'm getting there, keep your shirt on." He took a deep breath and continued. "So the Fat Lady sees us, arm in arm as it were, and started screaming 'PDA! PDA!' Then we were, eh, fifteen yards from the Portrait when we started just losing it," he looked at the expression on Harry's face- somewhere between hilarity and incredulity- and wrinkled his nose. "Not like that! We were laughing.she laughed so hard that she sank to the floor, crying."
"Crying?" Harry interjected.
"Because she was laughing so hard, you nitwit."
"Oh. Go on, then."
"Anyway, after we had calmed down a bit, I offered to help her up."
"Ooh, the plot thickens," Harry murmured, too much like Ginny for comfort.
Ron sighed. "So, I grabbed her wrists, we counted to three." he shrugged. "She pushed up off the floor and I pulled her at the same time, and.well.she was basically." he stumbled over the words.
"Spit it out, already!"
"Well, for lack of a better word, she was launched into my arms, all right?"
"She was what?" Harry squealed.
Ron flushed. "Mmhmm. Then Fred and George walked up."
"Perfect timing, as ever."
"Naturally. They wanted to know if they were interrupting anything.I was too shocked to say anything. So Laine, quick as you please, as quirky and outspoken as ever replies that yes, as a matter of fact they were and casual as can be, she pulls me down to kisses me!"
Harry gave a whoop of triumph. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! I BLOODY KNEW IT!"
"Get off it, Harry, she was just acting."
"Well, then she must be a damn good actress. Then what happened?"
"Well, then she says, "we can finish this later, sweetie," kisses me on the cheek, and saunters over to the portrait hole."
"She called you sweetie?" Harry asked, his voice rather shrill. Ron couldn't tell if he was laughing or impressed.
"Yeah," Ron mumbled. "Lucky me."
"Hell yes, lucky you!"
"Excuse me?" Ron gave him a sharp look.
"Well, she may be a Malfoy, but she's gorgeous, everyone agrees-"
Ron groaned. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."
"Oh shut up and listen to me. So honestly, it's not just you with your eye on her. Even Seamus has made a few rather.erm.compromising remarks."
Ron just stared at him blankly.
"Obviously not to her face, or Seamus would be in a very sorry state. Anyway," he said quickly, abruptly changing the subject. "Let's review the evidence." He started ticking off his fingers. "She consented to go on a walk alone with you, she took your arm, she let you help her up-"
"Actually she asked me to help her up," Ron murmured faintly.
"Exactly. Anyway- she kissed you, she kissed you again, called you sweetie.have I missed anything?"
Indeed he had, the fact that the two of them had stood there hugging silently for a moment, incredibly close to eachother before the twins had arrived, that and what she had whispered before sauntering off.but Ron had, erm, 'neglected' to tell Harry that teeny, tiny, insignificant little detail.
"Nope, that's about it," He said quietly.
"About?"
"That's it, Harry, drop it."
"Oh, but it's so fun."
"I'm so sure. I'm going to bed. We have to deal with Snape tomorrow."
"Right," Harry agreed. "Good idea."
After the lights were off and both of them were in bed, Ron finally let himself grin uncontrollably into his pillow. He was, after all, safe under the cover of darkness.
"G'night, Ron," he heard from the next bed over.
"Indeed it is, Harry. Indeed it is," he murmured to himself, pressing fingers to lips that still tingled delightfully and remembering the clean scent of her hair.It had turned out to be a very goof night after all.
~*~
End part 5.