Chapter 10 ~ Time & Feelings
"It starts with one thing, I don't know why,
It doesn't even matter how hard you try,
Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme, to explain in due time:
All I know, is that time is a valuable thing, watch it fly by as the pendulum swings…"
- "In The End" by Linkin Park
Everyone peered down at the map Dumbledore had just unfolded and revealed. Hermione wondered what his plan could possibly be, but it didn't end up being very hard.
"We are going to block all of the entrances to Hogwarts on this map," he explained thoroughly. "All the ways to get into Hogwarts – through Hogsmeade, the lake, anything. That way, followers of Voldemort won't be able to get through, and we won't have any accidents of that sort. Then we'll be keeping guard each night, two at a time, with the Marauders Map in hand. The Head Boy and Girl will help as well. That way, we'll be able to make sure no one gets into this castle. We can't afford another accident. Is that clear?"
Hermione nodded with the rest of the group. It really was a simple plan. She was thinking of being in a group of 2 with Oliver, to spend some time alone, while doing something good for the school at the same time. But, as usual, her thoughts interfered and scolded her. "You mustn't be in a relationship with a professor. He's a PROFESSOR!"
She had no clue Oliver was thinking the exact same thing, but decided to speak instead of think. "Hermione – would you want to be my partner for the look-out?"
Hermione nodded again. She seemed to be at a loss for words, even though she wasn't all that stunned. She went up to Dumbledore after all of the other professors, Seamus, and Filch left and signed up her name with Oliver. "Dumbledore, will Harry be all right?" Hermione asked. She bit her bottom lip depressingly. She felt so sorry for Harry. He hadn't done anything wrong to deserve a lightning-bolt scar or feel any pain, yet he did.
"He will be fine, Hermione," Dumbledore assured her. "I think he will be fit for this Saturday's Quidditch match, that's all I can tell you."
"Quidditch match!" Oliver exclaimed, jumping up and down like a 5-year old child. Although Hermione thought he was overexcited she had to admit he looked very cute.
"Yes, Oliver, a Quidditch match," Dumbledore chuckled. "It will be between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and Oliver, I would like to ask you to oversee the match – be a referee."
Oliver looked as though he had just been told that he had won a million galleons. He jumped up and down in excitement, and Dumbledore and Hermione couldn't help but laugh. Hermione knew she'd be this happy if she got over 100 N.E.W.Ts, but this was only a Quidditch match!
He jumped once more, whooped his arm in the air, and once he had stop panting, said, "I better go rehearse! Thank you Professor Dumbledore! See you later, Hermione!" And he blasted out the door.
Hermione smiled, but almost immediately it turned into a frown. "I'VE GOT TO GO VISIT HARRY! Bye, Professor Dumbledore!" and she blasted out Hagrid's door even more quickly.
Hermione ran through the halls in Hogwarts as fast as she could. She wanted to make sure Harry was all right before she took anything else into consideration. She knew that Dumbledore assured her he would be all right before Saturday's game, but that wasn't good enough for her.
She felt a big stitch in the side of her stomach (probably since she was running so fast and swiftly), but she chose to ignore it and ran on. She came to two dead ends…she lost her way around Hogwarts again!
"Lost your way, Mudblood?" a voice said. The words shook Hermione, and she saw the infirmary just down the hall.
"No, I'm fine, thank you," Hermione replied, not turning around to face the speaker.
"You're awfully funny, Mudblood," the voice continued, sneering. "You're head over heels with Oliver Wood, and now you're running off to your poor old Potter…no, Weasley's the poor one right? My mistake. And then there was poor old Weasley before – I have NO CLUE why you dated him…isn't it time you find a sensible man? Someone who will take care of you? Someone like…"
"Don't say "someone like me", Malfoy," Hermione said, recognizing the speaker. "Because the day you tell me you're sensible will be the day I get 1 000 000 N.E.W.Ts and everybody knows that's already impossible," Hermione said, rustling through her robes. She got her wand out, thinking of a way to get him to back off (she had a terrible urge to transfigure him into a ferret). Draco also pulled out his wand. Was he smart enough (or stupid enough) to challenge her to a duel? But he thought better of it, however, since next moment he cried, "Expelliarmus!" and disarmed her. He caught her wand easily, and Hermione gulped. Now she was unarmed, so he could defeat her easily. She thought of just running towards the infirmary, but Draco has her wand. They both stood there, and she thought Draco might stop this foolishness.
Draco didn't stop however. He grasped her arm and shoved her around, so that they were face-to-face, only 4 inches apart. He breathed, and Hermione automatically smelled alcohol. He was drunk. A drunk Slytherin. "You're filthy," Hermione said, struggling to get out of his reach. "A filthy Slytherin." He grasped even harder.
"You're the filthy Mudblood, and I'm a filthy Slytherin," Draco replied. "We're perfect! A match made in heaven!"
"Don't call me a Mudblood, Malfoy," Hermione warned. She tried to kick him, but he grabbed onto her foot, forcing her to the ground.
He bent down beside her, laughing away. "Oh…you Mudblood…beautiful, smart, talented Mudblood…too bad you're a Mudblood…"
"STOP IT!" Hermione screamed, trying to get away from him and to get some help. "You're disgusting! Give it up already, and leave me alone if you're only going to call me Mudblood!"
Malfoy leaned in, his smelly breath arousing around her. She coughed and he leaned in even farther. "SOD OFF!" Hermione cried. He punched her in the face, and she felt blood running down her lip. She began to whimper.
"I suggest that you STOP, Mr Malfoy," a voice suggested behind Hermione. She tried to look up, but Malfoy was in her way. She shoved him off, standing up. Her lip was bleeding terribly as well as her nose – the blood dripped off of her chin, onto her robes, leaving horrible stains. "Even Neville couldn't do stains THIS bad," she thought. She finally looked up.
Oliver looked outraged. He stood over cowering Malfoy, who was muttering and stumbling over words, trying to explain what had happened.
"40 points for drinking…50 points off for attacking a student…65 points off because it's Head Girl…70 points off for disarming her…80 points off for attacking her UNARMED…90 points off for offending her by calling her a Mudblood…100 points for punching her and…attempting to kiss her?" Oliver scolded, chuckling a bit at his last sentence. "That's a total of 500 points from Slytherin!"
"Wait!" Malfoy exclaimed drowsily, swaying from side-to-side as he tried to stand up. 'What's the extra 5 points off for?"
"Um…" Oliver said, prodding his chin in thought. "I took the extra 5 points off for…for being YOU, Mr Malfoy. Maybe next time you'll think more responsibly…maybe buy a new attitude? I think they sell them at Hogsmeade – you might want to have a look next time."
Hermione snickered, but felt woozy all the same. She felt her arm, which hurt badly, and felt the back of her head, which was also bleeding because of the fall. Oliver looked at her, worried; he turned his head back to Draco. "Now…I think you owe Hermione an apology," Oliver told him. But Draco's mean look was back; and he seemed even angrier than usual.
"Hey!" he exclaimed once again, no longer drowsily. "How come you call me "Mr Malfoy" and call this Mudblood on a first-name basis? Are you and this Mudblood an item?"
"50 points from Slytherin for calling her a Mudblood YET AGAIN!" Oliver shouted, looking like a very mature man while doing so. "And the reason, MR MALFOY, that I call her on a first-name basis is because while I was attending Hogwarts Hermione and I were in the same house, and now we've remained friends. Not a couple, but friends. I don't recall us being friends, Mr Malfoy! Now, apologize or you'll be apologizing to Professor Dumbledore. And you'll have a months attention!"
Malfoy turned to Hermione and sneered. He glanced at all of her cuts and bruises and smiled, as though amused with his work. "I'm SO sorry…" he said sarcastically, "…you Mudblood!"
That was the last straw for Oliver. He dragged Malfoy by the hem of his robes to an intersection of hallways. "Professor McGonagull!" he yelled.
"Yes?" Professor McGonagull's voice yelled back.
"May you please bring Mr Malfoy to Dumbledore's office right now? I'll be there in a moment!" he asked/shouted.
Professor McGonagull's heels ran on the hard, stone floor towards Oliver, and she patted Malfoy roughly on the back, gesturing him forward. "Let's go, Mr Malfoy – see what you've been up to this time," she said, both of them walking away.
Oliver approached Hermione, who was now bleeding so badly that her entire chin was coloured red. She took a tissue out of one of her pockets and desperately tried to rub it off but it was no use. "It's all right," he told her. He patted his pockets all around and said, "Do you have a wand on you? I can fix all this without Madam Pomfrey's help – but my wand's in my office and that's 5 floors up."
"Malfoy took it," Hermione explained. "When he disarmed me. When you were scolding him though, how did you know that he disarmed me?"
"I saw 2 wands in his pocket so I figured," Oliver told her. "I just forgot that he had yours so I asked. Guess we have to go to Madam Pomfrey's!"
They turned the corner and made their way slowly through the hall, blood dripping occasionally on the ground. Drip, drip…"Oliver, you've saved my life far too many times," Hermione said.
Drip, drip…
"I just happened to be at the right place at the right time, Hermione," Oliver insisted. "And besides – all the times that I've supposedly "saved" you doesn't add up to the time when you saved my life. All those accidents and experiences you've been in have been almost near-death, but not quite as that injury that I suffered. I could've DIED, Hermione – you understand? And then there wouldn't be anyone right now bringing you to the office. No one would've helped you from that stupid prat Malfoy…oh, I'm sorry! You won't mention that, will you?"
Drip, drip…
"Of course not!" Hermione giggled, although it hurt to do so, because her lip hurt so much. "Thank you, though, Oliver…I understand everything…but thank you."
"There's no need to thank me, Hermione," Oliver remarked. Drip, drip… They had reached the infirmary door. "Guess we're here. I think you were already intending to go here to visit Harry?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes…um, Oliver-"
"Don't say "thanks" or I'll do a curse on you!" Oliver warned. He giggled slightly and said, "In you go," before turning away with a wave of his hand.
Hermione laughed again (feeling slight pain, but not caring), and headed inside. There were three beds that were occupied. One of them belonged to the second-year girl who was attacked – Hermione could see the Dark Mark burning deeply on her left arm. The second bed was occupied by Neville – he had gotten so mad at Snape that he tried to curse him, but it didn't work properly since it was soaked with fruit punch and he had hexed himself. The third bed was occupied by –
"Harry," she said softly, biting strongly on her bottom lip (since she was nervous) before realizing it was already bleeding. Madam Pomfrey came out of her office at the end of the infirmary to give some medicine to Neville, who was moaning slightly. She headed round to Harry's bed to see his condition, and saw Neville had turned blue with bursting green dots. He began to whimper and Hermione felt tempted to laugh, but decided it was best not to.
She looked down upon Harry; he looked as good as new, except he looked as though he was dead. She bit her bottom lip again and cried, "OW!" Harry stirred in his bed and Madam Pomfrey looked at her sternly for waking up her patients.
Harry opened his eyes slightly. "Hermione…"
"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked.
"Already came by, when Harry was still sleeping," Madam Pomfrey announced for her, before heading back to her office.
"Are you all right?" Hermione asked anxiously.
"A bit," Harry replied. "I don't really know what happened. I just felt an instant, sharp pain, and my ears were ringing – like a wave of radiation or something. My stomach felt really bad, and I just on the ground, and…" Harry glanced at her. "Hermione, are you all right?! You're nose is all bleeding and…"
"OH!" Hermione said in shock. She had completely forgotten since beginning to talk to him. Madam Pomfrey arrived back, looking very smug.
"I went to the office to get this," she said, holding out a bottle. "Dip your wand in there, and say "Cleemy Semos" and you're nose and mouth will be as good as new."
"I don't have my wand with me…Draco has it…" Hermione replied. Madam Pomfrey sighed and pulled out her own wand and handing it to Hermione.
"It won't do as good because it's not your wand, but it'll cure most of it up," she said hastily, shoving the wand into Hermione's hands.
"Cleemy Semos!" she ordered after she dipped the wand in the gooey purple liquid. She felt the blood disappear and no longer felt pain. "Thanks, Madam Pomfrey!"
"It's all right my dear," she said, and she turned on her heel back to her office. Hermione turned to Harry, who was giving her a puzzled look.
"What does Draco have your wand?" Harry asked.
"Don't ask," Hermione said. But when she saw his further puzzled look she said, "Look I'll tell you in Care of Magical Creatures, all right? It's right before lunch. It's a long story and I want you to rest afterwards."
Harry nodded but winced slightly. He put his hand to his forehead and felt his scar.
"It'll be okay, Harry," Hermione insisted, although she didn't know whether that was true or not. "We'll get you through this."
"Thanks," Harry said, readjusting his glasses. "I heard Dumbledore and McGonagull conversing outside of the infirmary when they first carried put me in bed – I was half conscious. I saw them bring in the girl – is this why my scar was hurting?"
Hermione nodded. She didn't want to explain everything now to him, though; she knew he was in a pretty bad mood already. Instead, she decided to move to a lighter subject. "You know about the Quidditch match this Saturday, right?
Harry nodded. "But, of course! We've been practicing all last week…it shouldn't be too hard because Justin Flinch-Fletchey isn't a good captain."
Hermione smiled and continued to listen to his strategies patiently, waiting for him to change the subject. Suddenly, he asked, "Hermione, what time is it?"
Hermione glanced at her watch. "4:20 in the morning. Why?"
"Aren't you tired?" Harry asked, wiping his eyelids sorely.
"Of course not! Head Girls' are thriving to stay up late, aren't they?" Hermione joked. "Besides, I'm finished all my homework, so I won't have to stay up even later, and we…well, I have first period off because Professor Roomis is absent with flu."
Harry sighed. "Lucky you…I have Divination first thing in the morning…"
"You can still fake sick, can't you?" Hermione inquired.
Harry shook his head. "No…Madam Pomfrey said I'm in good fit and I'll be able to go back to classes…Professor Trewlaney will probably predict my death worse than before…"
Hermione sat for a while in silence, peering down at Harry. "Professor Trewlaney wasn't at the Hallowe'en dance…"
"So? Why is that such a big deal?" Harry asked. "She's never at feasts or anything…she just spends her time in her office "gazing" and all that…she's probably doing something else, though. Making up more predictions of my death."
Hermione stood up very quickly at that moment, looking as though someone had just told her she was an absolute genius. She headed for the door, cried, "I hope you get better Harry!" and ran towards the Gryffindor Common Room, which was empty when she got there, as it was fairly late in the night and quite early in the morning. She headed into the girls' dormitories very noisily. Some people told her off saying, "You're Head Girl – not an elephant!" but she continued to be noisy until she reached her bed and got all of her books, and headed back down to the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Better start right now," she decided. "If I want to save Harry."
Hermione worked all night, but didn't find any results. She'd have to get it straight from the person, and that's all she thought about before she fell into deep slumber.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning (well, actually, only a few hours afterwards) Hermione woke up. She seemed very refreshed even though she wound up to only have a few hours sleep.
She headed down to the Great Hall, a great big smirk on her face. She think she had found the resolution to her problem, and plus, it was the first day of November. She absolutely adored November.
She sat down to a wonderful breakfast (eggs, bacon, and toast), but by the time she was finished Harry and Ron still hadn't arrived. Harry eventually arrived 10 minutes before his class, but when asked where Ron was, he just shrugged.
"Didn't you check his bed?" Hermione asked after she asked Dobby for another refill of orange juice.
"Of course I didn't, that would be rude," Harry stated matter-of-factly, munching on some bacon.
"How so?" Hermione asked, looking around the Great Hall for Ron, who was nowhere in sight.
"He could be changing," Harry informed her. "And I don't want a clear view of his arse while he changes into his underwear, thank you VERY much."
Hermione sputtered on her orange juice, sending juice flying everywhere as she laughed (fortunately, Snape was sitting at the staff table, and wasn't drenched with juice. Or is that unfortunately?)
Ron appeared in the Great Hall 2 minutes before Harry and Ron's class started (Hermione would start Care of Magical Creatures with Harry and Ron later, since Arithmacy was still cancelled). His hair was very ruffled, and he was wearing his robes wrong (his arm-hole was around his neck, leaving the neck-hole on his right arm, looking awfully funny).
"RON!" Hermione scolded, after carefully propping her Arithmacy book on a carton of milk. "Where were you and why are you so late?"
"Sorry I was late. I kinda slept in… I would have been here earlier but I was uh... asleep." Ron explained, shrugging uneasily.
Harry began to chuckle uneasily, and soon Ron, Harry, and Hermione erupted with laughter before groups of children exited the Great Hall, heading towards their first classes.
"See you later," Harry waved as he and Ron exited. Hermione smiled and waved back, and began to look at the Arithmacy book again. The words were blurred and unfocussed, because Hermione wasn't really paying attention. She looked around at the remaining people in the Great Hall. A few 7th years, 4th years, and 2nd years were in the Great Hall (they were also in Hermione's Arithmacy class), while some people were walking out, laughing and chuckling.
She gazed up on the bewitched ceiling, which now had the sun pouring through it, with some white, puffy clouds. She felt she could stare up at it forever, but her neck soon became sore, and she decided to stop.
She closed her Arithmacy book, and realised that she was immensely bored. She had finished her homework for the weekend, and had no studying to do, no essays to complete, and no one to talk to or laugh with.
She stared out of the many windows in the Great Hall and spotted Hagrid's hut. She wanted to go visit him, as she hadn't spoken with him since the last Care of Magical Creatures class, but she saw him speaking loudly to a group of children as he showed off some very unusual creatures.
"Bored, are we?" Oliver asked. Hermione jumped and grasped her chest, which now had a sharp pain. Oliver sat down beside her, putting down some broomsticks. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "Did I scare you?"
Hermione shrugged. "A little," she spoke, putting her Arithmacy book away in her bag.
"Sorry," he repeated. "I wanted to shine and get rid of all the messy, sticking out twigs in the broomsticks, but I wanted to do it someplace elsewhere rather than my office. There's no one to talk to. Oh, and we have to patrol the school this Wednesday, just so you know. The whole entire night."
Hermione nodded, and finally let go of her chest. The Great Hall had emptied, and it was just Oliver and Hermione.
"Want me to help?" Hermione gestured, picking up a Cleansweep 7. It was very dirty, and many twigs were sticking out.
"I didn't have time to clean the broomsticks over the weekend," Oliver chuckled. "That's why their in such poor state. Oh, and here's your wand. Madam Pomfrey wanted me to deliver this to you."
She took the wand and said her thanks. She looked among the rest of the broomsticks. Most of them were very old, either Cleansweeps or Nimbuses (which had now gone out of style). "How come none of these are new – such as Firebolts or Twisters?" Hermione asked.
"Those ones don't need cleaning," Oliver explained. "They practically clean themselves. If only Muggle broomsticks would do that – their terrible. When I was 12, I tried to bewitch a Muggle broomstick to fly, since my parents couldn't afford…" he gulped. "…Anyways, it worked, but I had to clean it so constantly – any time it became really dirty, it became to scream shrilly. It was SO annoying!"
Hermione giggled. "So, how are you doing without being around your teammates?"
"I miss them," Oliver admitted, shining a Cleansweep 5 that was so dirty it had turned black. "Crazy Shirley – she's a beater, and she had these huge spectacles, but her eyes are so pretty it doesn't matter. JT – he's the seeker, and a bloody good one too…" He drowned off, his voice becoming lower and more depressing with each word he spoke.
Hermione looked at him, and swallowed hard. She felt sorry for him in a way. She didn't really know why, but he just seemed empty without being around his teammates, or that's what she thought.
"Would you rather play with the Appleby Arrows then teach Broomstick Practices and hanging around at Hogwarts?" Hermione inquired.
Oliver shrugged. "I'm not really sure…I love playing Quidditch, it's my passion…but teaching it to others is a joy, and I forgot how many good times I've had here at Hogwarts…I actually had the Quidditch Cup in my arms on the last year here, and that was the best…it's hard to decide…" He hung his head low, and stopped speaking altogether.
An awkward silence occurred. Hermione laid her hand upon his, as a way to comfort him, and as she did, her watch flashed on her wrist, informing her that she still had a hefty 37 minutes to go before her next class. Oliver noticed her watch and asked, "Would you rather be somewhere else? I'm probably wasting your time."
Hermione shook her head. "Of course not! I'd rather be here than anywhere else in this whole castle," she said truthfully. "Why would you think otherwise?"
Oliver looked at her, his deep brown eyes full with thoughts that Hermione couldn't distinguish. She only sat there looking back; and they did for a long time. Suddenly, Oliver leaned in a bit closer. Hermione was astonished, but she leaned in as well, thinking that he had a secret to tell her (which was a very foolish thought, indeed). Oliver blinked, but did not regain sight afterwards, keeping his eyelids tightly closed. Hermione mimicked him, confused.
Suddenly, their lips locked together. It was as though a jolt of lightning had hit Hermione; it was a rush of emotions, and she didn't want to let go. She knew she was kissing a professor – but she didn't care. She didn't consider him a professor anymore; she considered him a regular Quidditch player, who just happened to go to Hogwarts before and was back again. She felt a rush of joy, hope, peace, but most of all, love. She didn't want to let go.
Oliver, in the meanwhile, was having the best time of his life (next to a Quidditch match, of course). Hermione was incredible, and he was actually surprised that he hadn't kissed her sooner. After a while, he began to run out of breath and found it very hard to breathe out of his nose, and eventually, he let go.
Hermione grinned and said, "Oliver, that was…it was…" She never finished her sentence, however; she dropped her jaw and stared at the exit of the Great Hall. Oliver shifted around in his seat to get a good view:
Neville stood right at the entrance, his eyes wide with astonishment and his jaw lowering with every second he stood, watching in silence. He suddenly turned on his heels and went running up the stairs.
"He's going to turn us in!" Oliver exclaimed, his head hanging low. "I should go to pack my bags…"
Hermione, however, stood up and raced towards the hall after Neville. She wasn't going to let him turn them in; she was going to make sure nothing close to that would even happen. Oliver would probably be sacked right away; Hermione couldn't be expelled, she knew it herself (as Dumbledore had said, she was the best student in the history of Hogwarts). But she also knew that she would be in very serious trouble – she had kissed a professor. Right now, she didn't really think of him as that though – he was just a young man, a young Quidditch player. She ran harder, struggling to keep up with Neville, even though she didn't know where he went.
"Dumbledore's office," she decided, and she raced down a left corridor, her heart beating very fast.
She heard her own footsteps echoing throughout the halls, almost simultaneously with her heartbeat. She wondered where Neville had gone (she never remembered his running so swiftly). She turned another corner and suddenly heard a big, "Oof!" echoing throughout the halls. She continued to run, and found Neville on the ground, his chin bleeding (he had apparently stumbled over his robes).
"Neville," she began, as Neville stood up, dusting off his robes and rubbing his chin. His eyes began to water. "Are you-"
But Neville cut her off. "How could you KISS him? A PROFESSOR, Hermione?!"
"Neville," Hermione began again, "I don't consider him as that. He's not a professor – he's just a nice boy. But it doesn't matter what I say now, for you won't remember it in just a few seconds."
"What do you mean?" Neville asked.
Hermione raised her wand and pointed it directly at Neville. Neville gulped, but Hermione shouted, "OBLIVIATE!"
Neville fell on the ground and shook his head. He blinked his eyes twice and looked around in a daze. "What happened?" Neville asked.
"You fell on the ground," Hermione said, identifying Neville's bleeding chin.
"Oh…yeah, right…" Neville said, standing up once again. "I was in Divination, and I used the wrong spell that would help me identify someone's thought or something or…other. I got a bleeding chin instead. Hmm…or was I in Potions? But I was sent to Madam Pomfrey either way…or was it Professor Dumbledore's office? See you later, Hermione!"
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and headed back downstairs towards the Great Hall. She wanted to assure Oliver that everything was all right. He seemed so worried before. She walked more slowly, trying to catch her breath and make her heart stop pounding, and before she knew it, she was walking on the first floor towards the Great Hall. She glanced at her watch and noticed that she only had 4 minutes until her next class. She had to hurry. She walked near the entrance and looked around the Great Hall – it was empty.
She glanced around again.
No Oliver.
"Did he run off scared?" Hermione thought. "What's going on? Is this a start of something, or the end?"
She glanced around for the last time, already knowing the results.
No Oliver.
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Awwwwwwwwwwww no! Cute, (the kiss), and not cute (the disappearance). What's going to happen? As you can see, I excluded the Quidditch match and renamed the Chapter. I didn't want to include the Quidditch match in this Chapter because this Chapter is already 11 ½ pages and if I added the Quidditch match, then it would be about 20 pages long, so I just decided to add it to the next Chapter (please don't kill me)! Thanks to all the reviewers! Here's the thanks:
KAOS – I'm glad it's creative, but I'm slightly scared of the cliffhanger being that high. I'm afraid of heights!!! :( I agree totally with you – GOOOO SNAPE! *lol* I don't think there'll be any cheers for Snape in this chapter, but that's only because he's not really in here, unless I decide to. But thanks for the "brilliant" and the praise – you're my best reviewer so far (although there are many others I'm sure…I'm hoping).
Oliver Lover – Bloody good work? Fantastic? WOW! Thanks!! I just thought up of the "Dark Mark" as I was writing, and I didn't know if it was a good idea. Obviously it was (don't worry – I'm not full of myself, just flattered that I have good reviews). Thanks!
julsdbomb – Don't worry, I'm not being cruel although I did leave you "hanging" for quite a while, didn't I? I agree with you – Oliver is soooo cute and I love all fics with him unless he's drunk and a bad guy, but anyways! Thanks for the compliment!
hunny – I love making fun of Neville, so sue me! Just kidding. Yeah, KAOS, she didn't mean the remark! Forgive her! *lol* Thanks for the compliments!
Jenni @ College – Bravo, bravo! Encore, encore! Congratulations! Funny baby names, by the way. Thanks for the compliments and I'm glad you're going to review twice! Smart idea, Jenni!
STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER 11!
"It starts with one thing, I don't know why,
It doesn't even matter how hard you try,
Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme, to explain in due time:
All I know, is that time is a valuable thing, watch it fly by as the pendulum swings…"
- "In The End" by Linkin Park
Everyone peered down at the map Dumbledore had just unfolded and revealed. Hermione wondered what his plan could possibly be, but it didn't end up being very hard.
"We are going to block all of the entrances to Hogwarts on this map," he explained thoroughly. "All the ways to get into Hogwarts – through Hogsmeade, the lake, anything. That way, followers of Voldemort won't be able to get through, and we won't have any accidents of that sort. Then we'll be keeping guard each night, two at a time, with the Marauders Map in hand. The Head Boy and Girl will help as well. That way, we'll be able to make sure no one gets into this castle. We can't afford another accident. Is that clear?"
Hermione nodded with the rest of the group. It really was a simple plan. She was thinking of being in a group of 2 with Oliver, to spend some time alone, while doing something good for the school at the same time. But, as usual, her thoughts interfered and scolded her. "You mustn't be in a relationship with a professor. He's a PROFESSOR!"
She had no clue Oliver was thinking the exact same thing, but decided to speak instead of think. "Hermione – would you want to be my partner for the look-out?"
Hermione nodded again. She seemed to be at a loss for words, even though she wasn't all that stunned. She went up to Dumbledore after all of the other professors, Seamus, and Filch left and signed up her name with Oliver. "Dumbledore, will Harry be all right?" Hermione asked. She bit her bottom lip depressingly. She felt so sorry for Harry. He hadn't done anything wrong to deserve a lightning-bolt scar or feel any pain, yet he did.
"He will be fine, Hermione," Dumbledore assured her. "I think he will be fit for this Saturday's Quidditch match, that's all I can tell you."
"Quidditch match!" Oliver exclaimed, jumping up and down like a 5-year old child. Although Hermione thought he was overexcited she had to admit he looked very cute.
"Yes, Oliver, a Quidditch match," Dumbledore chuckled. "It will be between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and Oliver, I would like to ask you to oversee the match – be a referee."
Oliver looked as though he had just been told that he had won a million galleons. He jumped up and down in excitement, and Dumbledore and Hermione couldn't help but laugh. Hermione knew she'd be this happy if she got over 100 N.E.W.Ts, but this was only a Quidditch match!
He jumped once more, whooped his arm in the air, and once he had stop panting, said, "I better go rehearse! Thank you Professor Dumbledore! See you later, Hermione!" And he blasted out the door.
Hermione smiled, but almost immediately it turned into a frown. "I'VE GOT TO GO VISIT HARRY! Bye, Professor Dumbledore!" and she blasted out Hagrid's door even more quickly.
Hermione ran through the halls in Hogwarts as fast as she could. She wanted to make sure Harry was all right before she took anything else into consideration. She knew that Dumbledore assured her he would be all right before Saturday's game, but that wasn't good enough for her.
She felt a big stitch in the side of her stomach (probably since she was running so fast and swiftly), but she chose to ignore it and ran on. She came to two dead ends…she lost her way around Hogwarts again!
"Lost your way, Mudblood?" a voice said. The words shook Hermione, and she saw the infirmary just down the hall.
"No, I'm fine, thank you," Hermione replied, not turning around to face the speaker.
"You're awfully funny, Mudblood," the voice continued, sneering. "You're head over heels with Oliver Wood, and now you're running off to your poor old Potter…no, Weasley's the poor one right? My mistake. And then there was poor old Weasley before – I have NO CLUE why you dated him…isn't it time you find a sensible man? Someone who will take care of you? Someone like…"
"Don't say "someone like me", Malfoy," Hermione said, recognizing the speaker. "Because the day you tell me you're sensible will be the day I get 1 000 000 N.E.W.Ts and everybody knows that's already impossible," Hermione said, rustling through her robes. She got her wand out, thinking of a way to get him to back off (she had a terrible urge to transfigure him into a ferret). Draco also pulled out his wand. Was he smart enough (or stupid enough) to challenge her to a duel? But he thought better of it, however, since next moment he cried, "Expelliarmus!" and disarmed her. He caught her wand easily, and Hermione gulped. Now she was unarmed, so he could defeat her easily. She thought of just running towards the infirmary, but Draco has her wand. They both stood there, and she thought Draco might stop this foolishness.
Draco didn't stop however. He grasped her arm and shoved her around, so that they were face-to-face, only 4 inches apart. He breathed, and Hermione automatically smelled alcohol. He was drunk. A drunk Slytherin. "You're filthy," Hermione said, struggling to get out of his reach. "A filthy Slytherin." He grasped even harder.
"You're the filthy Mudblood, and I'm a filthy Slytherin," Draco replied. "We're perfect! A match made in heaven!"
"Don't call me a Mudblood, Malfoy," Hermione warned. She tried to kick him, but he grabbed onto her foot, forcing her to the ground.
He bent down beside her, laughing away. "Oh…you Mudblood…beautiful, smart, talented Mudblood…too bad you're a Mudblood…"
"STOP IT!" Hermione screamed, trying to get away from him and to get some help. "You're disgusting! Give it up already, and leave me alone if you're only going to call me Mudblood!"
Malfoy leaned in, his smelly breath arousing around her. She coughed and he leaned in even farther. "SOD OFF!" Hermione cried. He punched her in the face, and she felt blood running down her lip. She began to whimper.
"I suggest that you STOP, Mr Malfoy," a voice suggested behind Hermione. She tried to look up, but Malfoy was in her way. She shoved him off, standing up. Her lip was bleeding terribly as well as her nose – the blood dripped off of her chin, onto her robes, leaving horrible stains. "Even Neville couldn't do stains THIS bad," she thought. She finally looked up.
Oliver looked outraged. He stood over cowering Malfoy, who was muttering and stumbling over words, trying to explain what had happened.
"40 points for drinking…50 points off for attacking a student…65 points off because it's Head Girl…70 points off for disarming her…80 points off for attacking her UNARMED…90 points off for offending her by calling her a Mudblood…100 points for punching her and…attempting to kiss her?" Oliver scolded, chuckling a bit at his last sentence. "That's a total of 500 points from Slytherin!"
"Wait!" Malfoy exclaimed drowsily, swaying from side-to-side as he tried to stand up. 'What's the extra 5 points off for?"
"Um…" Oliver said, prodding his chin in thought. "I took the extra 5 points off for…for being YOU, Mr Malfoy. Maybe next time you'll think more responsibly…maybe buy a new attitude? I think they sell them at Hogsmeade – you might want to have a look next time."
Hermione snickered, but felt woozy all the same. She felt her arm, which hurt badly, and felt the back of her head, which was also bleeding because of the fall. Oliver looked at her, worried; he turned his head back to Draco. "Now…I think you owe Hermione an apology," Oliver told him. But Draco's mean look was back; and he seemed even angrier than usual.
"Hey!" he exclaimed once again, no longer drowsily. "How come you call me "Mr Malfoy" and call this Mudblood on a first-name basis? Are you and this Mudblood an item?"
"50 points from Slytherin for calling her a Mudblood YET AGAIN!" Oliver shouted, looking like a very mature man while doing so. "And the reason, MR MALFOY, that I call her on a first-name basis is because while I was attending Hogwarts Hermione and I were in the same house, and now we've remained friends. Not a couple, but friends. I don't recall us being friends, Mr Malfoy! Now, apologize or you'll be apologizing to Professor Dumbledore. And you'll have a months attention!"
Malfoy turned to Hermione and sneered. He glanced at all of her cuts and bruises and smiled, as though amused with his work. "I'm SO sorry…" he said sarcastically, "…you Mudblood!"
That was the last straw for Oliver. He dragged Malfoy by the hem of his robes to an intersection of hallways. "Professor McGonagull!" he yelled.
"Yes?" Professor McGonagull's voice yelled back.
"May you please bring Mr Malfoy to Dumbledore's office right now? I'll be there in a moment!" he asked/shouted.
Professor McGonagull's heels ran on the hard, stone floor towards Oliver, and she patted Malfoy roughly on the back, gesturing him forward. "Let's go, Mr Malfoy – see what you've been up to this time," she said, both of them walking away.
Oliver approached Hermione, who was now bleeding so badly that her entire chin was coloured red. She took a tissue out of one of her pockets and desperately tried to rub it off but it was no use. "It's all right," he told her. He patted his pockets all around and said, "Do you have a wand on you? I can fix all this without Madam Pomfrey's help – but my wand's in my office and that's 5 floors up."
"Malfoy took it," Hermione explained. "When he disarmed me. When you were scolding him though, how did you know that he disarmed me?"
"I saw 2 wands in his pocket so I figured," Oliver told her. "I just forgot that he had yours so I asked. Guess we have to go to Madam Pomfrey's!"
They turned the corner and made their way slowly through the hall, blood dripping occasionally on the ground. Drip, drip…"Oliver, you've saved my life far too many times," Hermione said.
Drip, drip…
"I just happened to be at the right place at the right time, Hermione," Oliver insisted. "And besides – all the times that I've supposedly "saved" you doesn't add up to the time when you saved my life. All those accidents and experiences you've been in have been almost near-death, but not quite as that injury that I suffered. I could've DIED, Hermione – you understand? And then there wouldn't be anyone right now bringing you to the office. No one would've helped you from that stupid prat Malfoy…oh, I'm sorry! You won't mention that, will you?"
Drip, drip…
"Of course not!" Hermione giggled, although it hurt to do so, because her lip hurt so much. "Thank you, though, Oliver…I understand everything…but thank you."
"There's no need to thank me, Hermione," Oliver remarked. Drip, drip… They had reached the infirmary door. "Guess we're here. I think you were already intending to go here to visit Harry?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes…um, Oliver-"
"Don't say "thanks" or I'll do a curse on you!" Oliver warned. He giggled slightly and said, "In you go," before turning away with a wave of his hand.
Hermione laughed again (feeling slight pain, but not caring), and headed inside. There were three beds that were occupied. One of them belonged to the second-year girl who was attacked – Hermione could see the Dark Mark burning deeply on her left arm. The second bed was occupied by Neville – he had gotten so mad at Snape that he tried to curse him, but it didn't work properly since it was soaked with fruit punch and he had hexed himself. The third bed was occupied by –
"Harry," she said softly, biting strongly on her bottom lip (since she was nervous) before realizing it was already bleeding. Madam Pomfrey came out of her office at the end of the infirmary to give some medicine to Neville, who was moaning slightly. She headed round to Harry's bed to see his condition, and saw Neville had turned blue with bursting green dots. He began to whimper and Hermione felt tempted to laugh, but decided it was best not to.
She looked down upon Harry; he looked as good as new, except he looked as though he was dead. She bit her bottom lip again and cried, "OW!" Harry stirred in his bed and Madam Pomfrey looked at her sternly for waking up her patients.
Harry opened his eyes slightly. "Hermione…"
"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked.
"Already came by, when Harry was still sleeping," Madam Pomfrey announced for her, before heading back to her office.
"Are you all right?" Hermione asked anxiously.
"A bit," Harry replied. "I don't really know what happened. I just felt an instant, sharp pain, and my ears were ringing – like a wave of radiation or something. My stomach felt really bad, and I just on the ground, and…" Harry glanced at her. "Hermione, are you all right?! You're nose is all bleeding and…"
"OH!" Hermione said in shock. She had completely forgotten since beginning to talk to him. Madam Pomfrey arrived back, looking very smug.
"I went to the office to get this," she said, holding out a bottle. "Dip your wand in there, and say "Cleemy Semos" and you're nose and mouth will be as good as new."
"I don't have my wand with me…Draco has it…" Hermione replied. Madam Pomfrey sighed and pulled out her own wand and handing it to Hermione.
"It won't do as good because it's not your wand, but it'll cure most of it up," she said hastily, shoving the wand into Hermione's hands.
"Cleemy Semos!" she ordered after she dipped the wand in the gooey purple liquid. She felt the blood disappear and no longer felt pain. "Thanks, Madam Pomfrey!"
"It's all right my dear," she said, and she turned on her heel back to her office. Hermione turned to Harry, who was giving her a puzzled look.
"What does Draco have your wand?" Harry asked.
"Don't ask," Hermione said. But when she saw his further puzzled look she said, "Look I'll tell you in Care of Magical Creatures, all right? It's right before lunch. It's a long story and I want you to rest afterwards."
Harry nodded but winced slightly. He put his hand to his forehead and felt his scar.
"It'll be okay, Harry," Hermione insisted, although she didn't know whether that was true or not. "We'll get you through this."
"Thanks," Harry said, readjusting his glasses. "I heard Dumbledore and McGonagull conversing outside of the infirmary when they first carried put me in bed – I was half conscious. I saw them bring in the girl – is this why my scar was hurting?"
Hermione nodded. She didn't want to explain everything now to him, though; she knew he was in a pretty bad mood already. Instead, she decided to move to a lighter subject. "You know about the Quidditch match this Saturday, right?
Harry nodded. "But, of course! We've been practicing all last week…it shouldn't be too hard because Justin Flinch-Fletchey isn't a good captain."
Hermione smiled and continued to listen to his strategies patiently, waiting for him to change the subject. Suddenly, he asked, "Hermione, what time is it?"
Hermione glanced at her watch. "4:20 in the morning. Why?"
"Aren't you tired?" Harry asked, wiping his eyelids sorely.
"Of course not! Head Girls' are thriving to stay up late, aren't they?" Hermione joked. "Besides, I'm finished all my homework, so I won't have to stay up even later, and we…well, I have first period off because Professor Roomis is absent with flu."
Harry sighed. "Lucky you…I have Divination first thing in the morning…"
"You can still fake sick, can't you?" Hermione inquired.
Harry shook his head. "No…Madam Pomfrey said I'm in good fit and I'll be able to go back to classes…Professor Trewlaney will probably predict my death worse than before…"
Hermione sat for a while in silence, peering down at Harry. "Professor Trewlaney wasn't at the Hallowe'en dance…"
"So? Why is that such a big deal?" Harry asked. "She's never at feasts or anything…she just spends her time in her office "gazing" and all that…she's probably doing something else, though. Making up more predictions of my death."
Hermione stood up very quickly at that moment, looking as though someone had just told her she was an absolute genius. She headed for the door, cried, "I hope you get better Harry!" and ran towards the Gryffindor Common Room, which was empty when she got there, as it was fairly late in the night and quite early in the morning. She headed into the girls' dormitories very noisily. Some people told her off saying, "You're Head Girl – not an elephant!" but she continued to be noisy until she reached her bed and got all of her books, and headed back down to the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Better start right now," she decided. "If I want to save Harry."
Hermione worked all night, but didn't find any results. She'd have to get it straight from the person, and that's all she thought about before she fell into deep slumber.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning (well, actually, only a few hours afterwards) Hermione woke up. She seemed very refreshed even though she wound up to only have a few hours sleep.
She headed down to the Great Hall, a great big smirk on her face. She think she had found the resolution to her problem, and plus, it was the first day of November. She absolutely adored November.
She sat down to a wonderful breakfast (eggs, bacon, and toast), but by the time she was finished Harry and Ron still hadn't arrived. Harry eventually arrived 10 minutes before his class, but when asked where Ron was, he just shrugged.
"Didn't you check his bed?" Hermione asked after she asked Dobby for another refill of orange juice.
"Of course I didn't, that would be rude," Harry stated matter-of-factly, munching on some bacon.
"How so?" Hermione asked, looking around the Great Hall for Ron, who was nowhere in sight.
"He could be changing," Harry informed her. "And I don't want a clear view of his arse while he changes into his underwear, thank you VERY much."
Hermione sputtered on her orange juice, sending juice flying everywhere as she laughed (fortunately, Snape was sitting at the staff table, and wasn't drenched with juice. Or is that unfortunately?)
Ron appeared in the Great Hall 2 minutes before Harry and Ron's class started (Hermione would start Care of Magical Creatures with Harry and Ron later, since Arithmacy was still cancelled). His hair was very ruffled, and he was wearing his robes wrong (his arm-hole was around his neck, leaving the neck-hole on his right arm, looking awfully funny).
"RON!" Hermione scolded, after carefully propping her Arithmacy book on a carton of milk. "Where were you and why are you so late?"
"Sorry I was late. I kinda slept in… I would have been here earlier but I was uh... asleep." Ron explained, shrugging uneasily.
Harry began to chuckle uneasily, and soon Ron, Harry, and Hermione erupted with laughter before groups of children exited the Great Hall, heading towards their first classes.
"See you later," Harry waved as he and Ron exited. Hermione smiled and waved back, and began to look at the Arithmacy book again. The words were blurred and unfocussed, because Hermione wasn't really paying attention. She looked around at the remaining people in the Great Hall. A few 7th years, 4th years, and 2nd years were in the Great Hall (they were also in Hermione's Arithmacy class), while some people were walking out, laughing and chuckling.
She gazed up on the bewitched ceiling, which now had the sun pouring through it, with some white, puffy clouds. She felt she could stare up at it forever, but her neck soon became sore, and she decided to stop.
She closed her Arithmacy book, and realised that she was immensely bored. She had finished her homework for the weekend, and had no studying to do, no essays to complete, and no one to talk to or laugh with.
She stared out of the many windows in the Great Hall and spotted Hagrid's hut. She wanted to go visit him, as she hadn't spoken with him since the last Care of Magical Creatures class, but she saw him speaking loudly to a group of children as he showed off some very unusual creatures.
"Bored, are we?" Oliver asked. Hermione jumped and grasped her chest, which now had a sharp pain. Oliver sat down beside her, putting down some broomsticks. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "Did I scare you?"
Hermione shrugged. "A little," she spoke, putting her Arithmacy book away in her bag.
"Sorry," he repeated. "I wanted to shine and get rid of all the messy, sticking out twigs in the broomsticks, but I wanted to do it someplace elsewhere rather than my office. There's no one to talk to. Oh, and we have to patrol the school this Wednesday, just so you know. The whole entire night."
Hermione nodded, and finally let go of her chest. The Great Hall had emptied, and it was just Oliver and Hermione.
"Want me to help?" Hermione gestured, picking up a Cleansweep 7. It was very dirty, and many twigs were sticking out.
"I didn't have time to clean the broomsticks over the weekend," Oliver chuckled. "That's why their in such poor state. Oh, and here's your wand. Madam Pomfrey wanted me to deliver this to you."
She took the wand and said her thanks. She looked among the rest of the broomsticks. Most of them were very old, either Cleansweeps or Nimbuses (which had now gone out of style). "How come none of these are new – such as Firebolts or Twisters?" Hermione asked.
"Those ones don't need cleaning," Oliver explained. "They practically clean themselves. If only Muggle broomsticks would do that – their terrible. When I was 12, I tried to bewitch a Muggle broomstick to fly, since my parents couldn't afford…" he gulped. "…Anyways, it worked, but I had to clean it so constantly – any time it became really dirty, it became to scream shrilly. It was SO annoying!"
Hermione giggled. "So, how are you doing without being around your teammates?"
"I miss them," Oliver admitted, shining a Cleansweep 5 that was so dirty it had turned black. "Crazy Shirley – she's a beater, and she had these huge spectacles, but her eyes are so pretty it doesn't matter. JT – he's the seeker, and a bloody good one too…" He drowned off, his voice becoming lower and more depressing with each word he spoke.
Hermione looked at him, and swallowed hard. She felt sorry for him in a way. She didn't really know why, but he just seemed empty without being around his teammates, or that's what she thought.
"Would you rather play with the Appleby Arrows then teach Broomstick Practices and hanging around at Hogwarts?" Hermione inquired.
Oliver shrugged. "I'm not really sure…I love playing Quidditch, it's my passion…but teaching it to others is a joy, and I forgot how many good times I've had here at Hogwarts…I actually had the Quidditch Cup in my arms on the last year here, and that was the best…it's hard to decide…" He hung his head low, and stopped speaking altogether.
An awkward silence occurred. Hermione laid her hand upon his, as a way to comfort him, and as she did, her watch flashed on her wrist, informing her that she still had a hefty 37 minutes to go before her next class. Oliver noticed her watch and asked, "Would you rather be somewhere else? I'm probably wasting your time."
Hermione shook her head. "Of course not! I'd rather be here than anywhere else in this whole castle," she said truthfully. "Why would you think otherwise?"
Oliver looked at her, his deep brown eyes full with thoughts that Hermione couldn't distinguish. She only sat there looking back; and they did for a long time. Suddenly, Oliver leaned in a bit closer. Hermione was astonished, but she leaned in as well, thinking that he had a secret to tell her (which was a very foolish thought, indeed). Oliver blinked, but did not regain sight afterwards, keeping his eyelids tightly closed. Hermione mimicked him, confused.
Suddenly, their lips locked together. It was as though a jolt of lightning had hit Hermione; it was a rush of emotions, and she didn't want to let go. She knew she was kissing a professor – but she didn't care. She didn't consider him a professor anymore; she considered him a regular Quidditch player, who just happened to go to Hogwarts before and was back again. She felt a rush of joy, hope, peace, but most of all, love. She didn't want to let go.
Oliver, in the meanwhile, was having the best time of his life (next to a Quidditch match, of course). Hermione was incredible, and he was actually surprised that he hadn't kissed her sooner. After a while, he began to run out of breath and found it very hard to breathe out of his nose, and eventually, he let go.
Hermione grinned and said, "Oliver, that was…it was…" She never finished her sentence, however; she dropped her jaw and stared at the exit of the Great Hall. Oliver shifted around in his seat to get a good view:
Neville stood right at the entrance, his eyes wide with astonishment and his jaw lowering with every second he stood, watching in silence. He suddenly turned on his heels and went running up the stairs.
"He's going to turn us in!" Oliver exclaimed, his head hanging low. "I should go to pack my bags…"
Hermione, however, stood up and raced towards the hall after Neville. She wasn't going to let him turn them in; she was going to make sure nothing close to that would even happen. Oliver would probably be sacked right away; Hermione couldn't be expelled, she knew it herself (as Dumbledore had said, she was the best student in the history of Hogwarts). But she also knew that she would be in very serious trouble – she had kissed a professor. Right now, she didn't really think of him as that though – he was just a young man, a young Quidditch player. She ran harder, struggling to keep up with Neville, even though she didn't know where he went.
"Dumbledore's office," she decided, and she raced down a left corridor, her heart beating very fast.
She heard her own footsteps echoing throughout the halls, almost simultaneously with her heartbeat. She wondered where Neville had gone (she never remembered his running so swiftly). She turned another corner and suddenly heard a big, "Oof!" echoing throughout the halls. She continued to run, and found Neville on the ground, his chin bleeding (he had apparently stumbled over his robes).
"Neville," she began, as Neville stood up, dusting off his robes and rubbing his chin. His eyes began to water. "Are you-"
But Neville cut her off. "How could you KISS him? A PROFESSOR, Hermione?!"
"Neville," Hermione began again, "I don't consider him as that. He's not a professor – he's just a nice boy. But it doesn't matter what I say now, for you won't remember it in just a few seconds."
"What do you mean?" Neville asked.
Hermione raised her wand and pointed it directly at Neville. Neville gulped, but Hermione shouted, "OBLIVIATE!"
Neville fell on the ground and shook his head. He blinked his eyes twice and looked around in a daze. "What happened?" Neville asked.
"You fell on the ground," Hermione said, identifying Neville's bleeding chin.
"Oh…yeah, right…" Neville said, standing up once again. "I was in Divination, and I used the wrong spell that would help me identify someone's thought or something or…other. I got a bleeding chin instead. Hmm…or was I in Potions? But I was sent to Madam Pomfrey either way…or was it Professor Dumbledore's office? See you later, Hermione!"
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and headed back downstairs towards the Great Hall. She wanted to assure Oliver that everything was all right. He seemed so worried before. She walked more slowly, trying to catch her breath and make her heart stop pounding, and before she knew it, she was walking on the first floor towards the Great Hall. She glanced at her watch and noticed that she only had 4 minutes until her next class. She had to hurry. She walked near the entrance and looked around the Great Hall – it was empty.
She glanced around again.
No Oliver.
"Did he run off scared?" Hermione thought. "What's going on? Is this a start of something, or the end?"
She glanced around for the last time, already knowing the results.
No Oliver.
*************************************************************************
Awwwwwwwwwwww no! Cute, (the kiss), and not cute (the disappearance). What's going to happen? As you can see, I excluded the Quidditch match and renamed the Chapter. I didn't want to include the Quidditch match in this Chapter because this Chapter is already 11 ½ pages and if I added the Quidditch match, then it would be about 20 pages long, so I just decided to add it to the next Chapter (please don't kill me)! Thanks to all the reviewers! Here's the thanks:
KAOS – I'm glad it's creative, but I'm slightly scared of the cliffhanger being that high. I'm afraid of heights!!! :( I agree totally with you – GOOOO SNAPE! *lol* I don't think there'll be any cheers for Snape in this chapter, but that's only because he's not really in here, unless I decide to. But thanks for the "brilliant" and the praise – you're my best reviewer so far (although there are many others I'm sure…I'm hoping).
Oliver Lover – Bloody good work? Fantastic? WOW! Thanks!! I just thought up of the "Dark Mark" as I was writing, and I didn't know if it was a good idea. Obviously it was (don't worry – I'm not full of myself, just flattered that I have good reviews). Thanks!
julsdbomb – Don't worry, I'm not being cruel although I did leave you "hanging" for quite a while, didn't I? I agree with you – Oliver is soooo cute and I love all fics with him unless he's drunk and a bad guy, but anyways! Thanks for the compliment!
hunny – I love making fun of Neville, so sue me! Just kidding. Yeah, KAOS, she didn't mean the remark! Forgive her! *lol* Thanks for the compliments!
Jenni @ College – Bravo, bravo! Encore, encore! Congratulations! Funny baby names, by the way. Thanks for the compliments and I'm glad you're going to review twice! Smart idea, Jenni!
STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER 11!