Disclaimer. I own … EVERYTHING! It's all mine, Harry Potter is mine; Ginny and Hermione are mine. Ron … he is SOOOO mine :o)
Wait … hold on … Cut …
Damn it! That was JKR's Line! I, Angi, own a REALLY hot pair of boots from Payless that cost 24 flipping dollars!
My life is so sad …
Anyways, guys, I am really sorry that It took me so long to pump out this chapter- Things have been pretty hectic (I think that my English teacher hates free time, and is trying to destroy all it by giving us mountains of horribly boring Homework.) I've already started the next Chapter, and have been working on a new story (just a little side project, be sure to check it out when its up!) THANK YOU GREEN
Ok, I have yammered on enough … On to the chapter!
-The Charm Bracelet-
Chapter 11
Ahhh … nothing in the world was better than a nice warm bed on a weekend. Absolutely nothing.
"RON!" Something screeched, making him jump nearly a foot in the air. Hermione warm hands were pressing into his shoulder and hip, pushing him aggressively out of his slumber, "THERE HERE!!"
"What's here, you crazy woman?" He tried to pull the blankets back over his hear, holding onto the little warmth that was left beneath the covers. She took his pillow and started beating him with it excitedly.
"Our O.W.L. results are here!" She was already fully dressed; with her hair pulled haphazardly into a messy ponytail, little curls falling into her face. He could see Harry putting his glasses on, his hair especially mussed up, and yawning widely. Hermione had obviously already gotten to him.
She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, uncharacteristically giddy. She was holding the letters from Hogwarts close to her chest, as though if she let them go, they would disappear. Ron rolled his eyes and hoisted himself into a sitting position, as Harry lethargically made his way to the bed.
"I thought that it would be better if we opened them all together. You know, moral support." She was grinning nervously, fiddling with the letters.
"Well, pass it here then," Ron said stretching out his long arm. He couldn't hide the fact that he was anxious; actually he was extremely nervous as Hermione passed him the formal looking letter. This was going to determine what his options were in the future. He had no idea why Hermione was so worried; anyone who met her could tell that she was a bloody genius …
"Ok, lets do it on three," She was pulsating, as he sat down beside him. He was vaguely aware that he was only wearing his under shorts, but didn't really care. "One … Two… THREE"
Breaking of wax seals.
Tearing eagerly at the manila paper.
Long silence.
"YES!!! Eight OWLS! EIGHT BLOODY OWLS!"
Harry looked at him, a grin that they all missed so much split his face, "Me too," He murmured.
"Ron don't curse," Hermione had not looked up from her parchment, but was staring at it with such intensity that it looked like she was going to burn holes through it.
"Look. I got a "D" In astronomy, go figure, and an "E" in Charms, and an "O" in Transfiguration and POTIONS? How the hell … and … this has to be a mistake …"
"What?" Harry took the paper away from him "-You got an "O" in DIVINATION! Your right, that must me a mistake, I got a "D"."
"Well … maybe I possess a 'Promising inner eye." He mocked Trelawny's voice, causing Harry to laugh good-naturedly. Hermione didn't blink.
"Well …?" Ron tried to make eye contact with her, but she was barley able to be seen behind that parchment that was only centimeters away from her face. It dropped lightly onto her lap, and she was just staring blankly at the spot where it had been. Ron looked at Harry who had a confused expression, and shrugged. Ron slowly reached for the paper on her lap…
"THIRTEEN! THAT HAS TO BE A RECORD"
She was now looking sheepish, and snatched the letter back. She flushed a deep crimson colour, and shook her head in disbelieve.
"Oh, don't act surprised," Harry joked.
"Yea, we all know that you are the most brilliant witch in our year … in most years, actually," Ron added as an afterthought. She turned, if possible, a deeper shade of red, and looked away.
"I should write to my parents …" She suddenly grabbed Ron in a tight hug with one arm, and Harry with the other, "I'm so proud of both of you!" she sniffed in a watery voice. She broke into a full-fledged sob, and Harry shot Ron a terrified look over her shoulder. She pulled them closer and was crying loudly. Finally pulling away she kissed them each on the cheek, and hurried out of the room.
"That was …"
"Very much like the Hermione we know and love," Ron finished grinning. He though that he heard Harry mumble 'Some more than others,' under his breath, but was too ecstatic to care; Eight OWL's was a magnificent feat.
"What's up with her?" Ginny asked sleepily, her hair tousled, carrying an unopened stack of Hogwarts letters, "She didn't even take her letter. What did you do Ron?"
"I did absolutely nothing!"
"We got our OWL's back," Harry said happily.
"Really? How did you all do?" Harry made room as she sat on the end of Ron's bed.
"I got eight," Ron said proudly. Ginny opened her eyes wide, as if she has just heard that Dumbledore was actually a Cornish Pixie.
"You are not serious!"
"Oh, young Ginny. I see that you have little faith in me. I am ashamed to be your brother…"
"Lemme see that!" she snatched the parchment from were it was sitting on his lap, and scanned it, her eyes widening slowly.
"WOW!" She lunged over and pulled him into a tight bear hug, "That's awesome Ron!"
"Thanks!" He loved his little sister at moments like this. She could be so supportive. "Harry did good too," He saw his friend looking awkward over Ginny's shoulder, as if he didn't belong here.
"Really," She broke away, "How'd you do?"
"Erm. Eight." He said sheepishly, turning a light red shade when Ginny pulled him into an equally aggressive hug.
"That's great, Harry," She said softly. Harry went even redder. When he pulled away she asked, "Umm … how did Hermione do? She looked rather …"
"Emotional?"
"Completely nutters?"
"Uhh … the second one." She said uneasily.
"Oh, well she got thirteen OWL's," Ron said indifferently.
"NO WAY!"
"Yep" Harry was grinning proudly, not unlike the way Ron would act if Ginny had been in Hermione's shoes.
"Wow. That's. Wow." She shook her head in disbelieve, "And she was crying why?" Ron shrugged. "Hmm …" She got up and quickly exited the room, and Ron could hear her stomping up the stairway.
"That has been happening a surprising amount today." Harry smiled, "And she took our Hogwart's letters. They came late this year."
He was right. Usually the letters came about three weeks before school started, but in only seven days they would once again be boarding the bright red and gold steam engine that took them the enormous castle that they called home for ten months. He figured that the Hogwarts letters were not the first priority of Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers.
"Are you going to get dressed? I would bet my firebolt that the moment you go downstairs, you'll be attacked by about half of the Weasley Family demanding your OWL's results. And let me tell you, one demanding Weasley is enough."
Ron grinned, "Yea, well you would know, wouldn't you Potter?" For some reason Harry went very red and looked away. What? Ron though, I just meant that I am a rather demanding person. Yeesh.
*
They went into the kitchen a few minutes later and true to Harry's accusation, Ron's mother and father both jumped up and lunged towards their son. "Well …" His mother asked expectantly, "Hermione came down earlier this morning as a school owl flew in ...She got so excited she didn't eat her porridge." She continued to stare at him with anticipation.
"Eight" he said quietly. Before his eyes, Ron's mother pulled him into a tight hug. His father slapped him fondly on the back, grinning proudly:
"Didn't except anything less. Wonderful! Absolutely smashing"
"Ron we're so proud of you."
Harry, once again feeling like he was intruding on an important family moment, slunk quietly behind them, helping himself to the porridge that was still warm on the stove.
"And you, dear?" He turned to see Mrs. Weasley gazing at him with the same anticipation in her eyes that she had when she was looking at her own son. He felt rather self-conscious, and suddenly had the urge to impress these people, and make them proud of him like they were of Ron.
"Eight as well." And before he knew it he was being attacked with the third hug that he had received in twenty minutes.
"Harry that's wonderful." She was saying, as she released him, "Very, Very good indeed."
"Yes, excellent," Mr. Weasley shook his hand vigorously. He caught Ron's eye and smiled.
Wow. Someone was proud of something that he accomplished. This was a wonderful feeling, and suddenly, most unwontedly a vision of Sirius popped into his head.
He would have been proud. He had been a good scholar, and would have realized how difficult it was to obtain such a high mark. He would have been proud of him.
Harry lost his appetite, and cleared his still full dish. Smiling in what he hoped to be a happy manner, he left the kitchen and embarked in the long journey up the three full sized stairways, and finally found himself in the attic.
It was old and dusty, but it was peaceful. Peaceful was what he wanted, some time to think about what he had been trying to forget for the last two months. He wanted to know more than anything, what Sirius had really been like. What his favorite pastimes were, who he had awkward teenage crushes on. In the attic were dozens of trunks and old wardrobes that were full of memories, just waiting to be discovered.
And in the corner, something caught his eye: a small pile of green and silver trunks, and a solitary red and golden one.
Sirius's trunk.
This is what he had been waiting for; this was the thing that could help him figure out the life that was his godfather. Jumping to his feet quickly, he ran to the corner. He pulled on the latch, but was temporarily blinded by a cloud of dust. About seven green trunks, all with the curvy silver lettering 'Black' engraved on them, fell at once, knocking him off his feet.
God, Slytherins always found a way to piss him off.
He stretched out still on his back for a few minutes, contemplating whether he should get up, or if he would just stay there the entire day. He liked the latter of the two, but before he had a chance to practice any full-fledged laziness, he heard frantic footsteps running up the narrow stairway.
"Oh My GOD! Harry- Harry are you ok?" Ginny hurried over to him, pushing trunks out of the way, and falling to her knees.
"Yea, I-" but he was cut off in mid-explanation.
"I heard a crash from my bedroom, and I didn't know where it came from 'cause me and Hermione are on the third floor, then I though 'The Attic, but what could be up there,' so I came to look, and there you were, sprawled out on the floor looking dead-" He acted on pure instinct, and put a finger on her lips. She had been talking so fast, he wondered how she didn't run out of air. Then he wondered how she got her lips so soft. Then, why he cared that her lips were so soft. Then ... Why his finger was still on her lips.
He pulled it away quickly, as if he had been burnt, "Slow down, I'm fine. Just had a nasty fight with some of the old trunks. And as bloody luck would have it they won." He couldn't tell if she was blushing, the room was so dimly lit, but she had defiantly turned her gaze elsewhere.
"What were you doing alone up here?" She asked falling gracefully from her knees and crossing her legs comfortably. He didn't know if he should tell her … it was kind of lame, but for some reason, he felt that he could tell Ginny anything, and she wouldn't judge him any differently. He sighed, and sat up as well, leaning on one of the fallen chests.
"Actually, I was going to look through Sirius's trunk … see if there was anything …" He didn't know how to end that. To see if there was anything … what? What he really meant to see if there was anything that could help him meet the man who his father had trusted with his Families lives.
"Oh, I see. Sorry, did you want me to leave you alone?" She spoke softly, and uncrossed her legs as if to show that she was not opposed to giving him his privacy.
"No," He said so quickly that he surprised himself, "Err … you can stay. If you want." She grinned, and then sat next to him against the chest. Leaning forward, to prevent as much effort as possible, he pulled the solitary red and gold chest towards him. Once again finding the latch, he unhooked it. And hesitated.
He had to prepare himself that there could be nothing inside; that he could have cleaned out his trunk years ago. This could just be an empty box with the words 'S. Black' on it, don't get your hopes up …
He opened it eagerly, hungrily looking inside. Piles of papers tied with a strong sting, notebooks and various magazines and pictures.
He was stunned.
"Wow, Harry, look at all this stuff." Ginny looked over his shoulder and pointed out little things, "Is it what you wanted?"
Too shocked to answer, he slowly reached into the trunk, pulling out first envelopes of papers on the stack. Opening one carefully, he looked at whom it was from:
James Potter.
"Oh … My god." That was all he could say, before quickly unfolding the letter that had been written over twenty years ago.
"What is it?" Ginny asked curiously, if not impatiently. She shuffled closer to him, leaning against his side to get a better look. A shock of electricity seemed to shoot though him at contact, but he was too amazed by the letters to care. He shook his head in disbelief, holding the letter out so she could read as well:
Sirius-
Hey how's it going? Me, not so good:
If it wasn't enough that my Father has "Important international Wizards" staying that the house from Turkey, their daughter is all over me. Man, I am cursed with good looks (I KNOW that you are rolling your eyes!) Yeesh, I am just joking. Normally I wouldn't be complaining, but she is like, ten. It's starting to scare me.
OHH did you talk to Moony lately? He flooed over the other day and was talking about a new potion call "Wolfsbane" or something … and you know what it does – When he transforms he turns onto a … wait for it … wolf. Yea, I wasn't to impressed either, but then he told me that he could be around people and he wouldn't go all Werewolf-ish. He could even be around Humans- though he wouldn't. You know our Remmy, extra responsible. Its still in the experimental processes, though, and it might just be a rumor, but still, think of all the mischief that we could get into!
Oh no … creepy ten year old who keeps talking to me in Turkish alert. Sorry, Write back!
Punch your sycophantic, smarmy little excuse for a brother in the stomach for me!
-James
Ginny was laughing, and to his surprise, so was Harry. "I wonder what year this was written in?" she asked.
"Well … He called Remus Moony, so it has to be at least fifth year, Maybe the Christmas Break? Or Summer before sixth year"
She raised an eyebrow, confused about the name, he figured, but nodded, "I guess … I don't know much about Wolfsbane. Ask Hermione when it was invented."
"Yea…" but he had already indulged in another letter.
*
Ron was sitting on his bed, once again reading through his letter.
Eight OWL's.
He was pretty proud of himself, all things considered. Sure it was nothing to Hermione's standards, but eight owls was still an amazing feat. He neatly tucked the letter back into its envelope, and buried it under his dress robes.
He hoped that they weren't on the list this year. He was somewhat relieved when Ginny didn't give him the letters this morning, not wanting o see the clothing requirements. Dress robes lead to balls … Balls lead to dates … dates lead to being alone, and unhappy sitting in the corner watching your best friend make syrupy eyes at some quidditch player from half way across the continent.
Dress robes sucked.
"Ron, did you want your Hogwarts letter?" Hermione's voice broke into his thoughts, making him fall off the bed. She was laughing, as she threw his letter at him. "We're supposed to send our reply by … TOMORROW MORNING! God … that doesn't give us a lot of time to think it over does it? McGonagall said that we would get our OWL results in July!"
"For some reason, I think that the Ministry has bigger things to deal with, other than out OWL results."
"So what? We still ONLY have a DAY to figure out what courses we're going to take!"
"You've been thinking about it all summer … haven't you?" He smiled mischievously, and laughed when she opened her mouth, but no sound came.
"Yes … well … that's besides the point. I doubt that everybody knew that they would have to send their letters back with a response …"
"Ahh, but you forget: Not everybody is staying in a house that is accommodating the wizards and witches who are trying to defeat the second most powerful Dark Wizard for a millennium … I have a feeling that there are special 'letter scanning boundaries' for unknown owls or something."
"Yea … maybe. What courses are you going to take?" She asked, flopping onto the bed next to me.
"Umm … Charms, Herbology, Defense against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Potions, amazingly. And … I dunno, maybe … Divination." Hermione's response was almost exactly what he expected it to be. She froze up and her eyes went very, very wide. Her mouth fell open slightly, and she gave him a look that he had never seen grace her features. Complete and utter confusion.
"You're not- You can't be- Serious!"
"Well, I might take care of Magical creatures to, just for-you know- a back up. It is a pretty easy class." I wanted to laugh. She looked completely shocked, as if she just found out that Gildory Lockhart wrote everything in Hogwarts: A History.
"Did you honestly say … divination?"
"Yea-" he winced expecting her to flip out.
"Oh"
Oh? OH!? Was that all? Her brow was furrowed, and she shook her head slightly.
"Why?"
Why? That was a good question. He hadn't though of it at all, actually, but figured that if he had gotten such a good mark in the class- he was bound to succeed in the NEWT's course. Astrology and History of Magic were out of the question, for sure, so why NOT take it? But it was something deeper. For some reason, he was pulled to it- the subject secretly fascinated him.
"I don't know. I guess 'cause I can" Shrugging it off, he grasped his Hogwarts letter that had fallen in the small space in between them.
"Aww, Crap!"
"What?"
"Uh- nothing."
Dress Robes. Scanning over the book requirements, he made a mental note of what textbooks he would need.
"I'm gunna take this to mom. Do'ya just want to circle the books that you need, she can get them in Diagon Alley some time this week. Or she might get Fred and George to pick them up and bring them over … though I don't know if I would open them with out proper protection charms …"
"Uh, yea ok. Just tell her that I am taking everything but …" She paused, staring at her letter hard, "Well … I don't know. What am I going to drop?"
"You have to drop something. You already take more classes than Harry and me. Which one is your least favorite?"
"I like them all," She whined. How typical. "Well, It's easy for you! You are just dropping the classes that you failed!"
"And let me guess … you go an 'O' in everything!"
"Actually, no-" He pretended to look stunned
"-Ha ha. I probably did about as well as you and Harry did in Astrology."
He raised his eyebrows,
"Well, maybe not THAT bad … but I didn't get an O."
"An E?"
"Yes. Ok, so I drop Astrology … and …"
"History of Magic?"
"NO! That will be very useful if I ever want to be a …"
"History of Magic teacher? Trust me … Binn's isn't going anywhere for a while," Ron said.
"Yea, I guess. But it would be useful if I wanted to be a Historian, or a Librarian or … some other intellectual, and respectable career."
"You want to be a librarian?"
"Well, no, but I don't want to close any doors." She said simply. "I guess that I could drop History of Magic."
Leaning into his trunk, he produced an old quill and a half empty bottle of ink. Circling the required books, he handed it to Hermione.
"Right, Well, I'll take these down. Hey, have you seen Harry or Ginny lately?"
"Uh, no, I haven't seen either of them since this morning."
"Oh. Its getting close to dinner, Tell them if you see them,"
"Yea, alright." She was smiling for some unknown reason- like she had a secret.
"You know something that I don't!"
"I know lots of things that you don't, Ron." She said smiling. She said it in an I-know-something-you-don't-na-na-na-na-na-na voice, and not her regular I-am-much-smarter-than-you voice.
"Tell me!" He demanded, dropping the letters, and sitting next to her.
"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Ronald dear!" She said sweetly.
"Pur-LEASE!" he got down on his knees, and hugged her feet, as If groveling.
"No!" Fine, he thought, desperate times call for desperate measures.
"Tell me NOW!" He tackled her, tickling her stomach and sides. She shrieked, and fell on her back trying (and failing) to push him away.
"Ron … It's … nothing! STOP … THAT!" She said between gasps and fits of giggles. His hands slowly stopped moving, though they remained on her hips, and she breathed in deeply.
"Not fair!" She sighed, closing her eyes in exhaustion.
"I know. I play dirty." That came out SO wrong. He was beyond thankful that Hermione's eyes were closed; she couldn't see that his face radiating. She sat up slightly.
"I don't know if I'm ready." She said, in a small voice.
"For what?"
"Going back. Everything is going to be so different this year. I mean, …" She trailed off, obviously unable to come up with the words for.
"Yea, I know," He said quietly, heaving himself up next to her. "It's going to be weird. But we'll pull through, we always do," She smiled.
"Yea. Your right,"
"You should say that more often, I like the way it sounds!" She smiled and laughed very quietly. Only now he realized how extremely close he was to her. Their faces were only a foot or two away from each other's, and his hands were still protectively on her sides. If he wanted to, he could lean down and kiss her, right now. He really wanted to.
She was looking up at him now, looking scared, hopeful, and confused all at the same time.
Instinctively, he began to lean down slowly. She closed her eyes, and brought one of her hands up, setting it nervously on his shoulder. He felt numb, and horribly afraid. It was really, REALLY going to happen.
"Ron! Dinners ready!" Bill called loudly outside of the door. They shoot apart, and Ron was left with the same empty feeling as he had in the market, when Ginny and Harry found them by the street player.
"Erm … Ok, I'll be down in a second," He called over his shoulder. Hermione looked horrified, Her eyes were wide, and her lips were shaped in an "oh".
"I-I- Guess we should go down." He pointed dumbly at the door.
"Uhh, yea. Yea, w-we should go … down. Yea" She wasn't looking directly at him, he assumed (for he wasn't looking directly at her) but was very red indeed.
"Uhh … ok." That sounded even lamer out loud than it did in his head. She smiled nervously, finally looking at him, and stood up. She offered her hand, which he took, but released it as soon as he was on his feet. And following her out the door, he was thinking of ways to secretly kill Bill in his sleep.
*
Don't you HATE me right now?
Well, I am officially stuck in a writes block. The next chappie will take place on the Hogwarts express- and I will try my HARDEST to get it up much quicker than this one. I was stuck in the WORST case of writes block that I have yet encountered during writing this story … I had NO idea where I wanted it to go. I'll try to speed it up for you in the next chapter.
Until then, thank you SO much to everyone who has reviewed so far! It really means a lot to me! Thanks for being so patient!
Peace
~Angi :o)
