[A/N-third chapter, kind of veers a little off course...but its and
essential part to the story.]
dishclaimer: I own nothing of this, it's all j.k. rowling.
It was Saturday, and even if there was no class, there was still a lot of homework to be finished, except for Hermione, of course, who only had an essay or two. All three of them would've gone outside to do their homework and enjoy the sunshine, but unfortunately, there was no sunshine to enjoy.. Winter wasted no time in approaching, and in fact, Ron had sworn he had seen some flurries outside in the morning.
"Oh, come off it Ron, why do want snow that badly anyway? The only class they'd cancel would be Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures, and worse, they'd cancel Quidditch practice! Or wait, would they?" said Hermione, turning toward Harry.
They were walking towards the Great Hall for lunch, all three of them were starving after a morning's worth of homework. Well, for Ron, it had been a morning's worth of pretending to do homework. He had been thinking about what Hermione had said for a very, very long time. At one point, he even thought he might tell Harry, because pure rejection would wipe Hermione's feelings much quicker then time alone. But that was cruel, Ron had thought, and he wasn't even sure that pure rejection would be provided.
"Hey, look! It's Potty, the Weasel, and Mudblood!" said a sneering voice. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were so used to this taunt that Hermione, the one who verbally abused Malfoy the least by far, was forced to shout, "Is that the best you've got? I could've sworn you'd shot that one at us four or five years ago as well!"
Malfoy, clearly put out by Hermione's own taunt, just shot them the dirtiest look he could muster and walked off.
"Funny, didn't see Crabbe or Goyle behind him, usually they're like his house-elves-"
At this remark, Hermione shot Ron a dirty look of her own.
"I've told you millions of times, Hermione, it's just an expression!" said Ron exasperatedly.
"Yes, Ron, but-"
"You know, the two of you argues this so many times, if one of you were to land up in the hospital wing I could fill in for you, because I know exactly what you're going to say," interrupted Harry, trying to extinguish an age-old fire.
"Anyway, I met this girl yesterday, she was really nice, she was watching our Quidditch practice, and at first, I thought she was some kind of spy or something, but she was really nice, her name is--" as Harry rambled on, Ron looked at Hermione's reaction to this. It was clear she was trying to look and sound nonchalant, and the truth was, if Ron didn't know that Hermione fancied Harry, he wouldn't be able to tell.
".and she transferred her third year! I didn't know you could do that!" said Harry. He turned to Hermione. "Did they say anything about that in Hogwarts, a History?"
The sarcasm went undetected.
"Well no, actually, but I think Dumbledore lets people transfer in very special circumstances, or for some reason they weren't able to come when they were 11, so they could come as soon as they were ready or something like that. What House is she in?"
"She's a Ravenclaw, but I've never noticed her before. You know, Ron, I think you should meet her. She's a big supporter of the Cannons." Ron looked at Harry "Really? A real one? Not some frontrunner who decided that now that the Cannons are winning that they-"
"She's supported them almost as long as you have. Her brothers won't let her like any other teams. Well, that's what she says at least."
"Why you trying to set me up anyway?" said Ron suspiciously. Harry didn't do this, what could he be up to?
"I'm not trying to set you up, Ron, really, I just thought you'd like to meet her."
As they entered the Great Hall and sat down, they heard the sound of flapping wings, clicking beaks, and soft hoots. They looked up to see a mass of owls entering, dropping parcels and parchment to their owners. Harry and Ron had not sent any letters, so they did not expect to see any white or tiny owls. However, there was a tiny and white owl that was trying desperately to hold its package.
"That's not Pigwigdeon, it can't be, unless Ginny or someone was using it-"
"It can't be Pig, Ron, Pig's not snowy white-"
The owl dropped in front of girl with black and auburn curls. The girl was very pretty, beautiful in fact, with honey eyes and mocha skin. She petted the owl softly, gave it a chunk of bread [that was almost bigger than it's entire body] and it went off. She unrolled the parchment and read the letter and started to smile; she had an amazing smile.
"That's her, Ron! That's her! Her name's.well I don't remember her name, but that is her!"
Ron stared at the girl.
"Ron, don't stare," said Hermione. "You look stupid with your mouth open like that."
"Yeah, what are you gaping at, Weasley? A sack of Galleons? Never seen it before have you?" There was no one else this could be. Harry turned back at Malfoy, with his pale eyes, hair, and skin, and his arrogant swagger.
"You, know, Malfoy, you're really losing your touch."
"Yeah, I mean, even Ginny could come with better," chimed Hermione.
"What's wrong, Malfoy? Going soft?"
He narrowed his cold eyes. "You still haven't answered my question, Weasley. What are you staring at?" Ron, determined not to answer Malfoy [his ears were a little bit red], kept looking. Malfoy eventually followed Ron's gaze, and looked at the girl. Both Harry and Hermione expected something, a comment, a taunt, something. But there was nothing. Malfoy started to stare at her as well, his expression softened.
Hermione leaned toward Harry, "She's not part veela, is she?"
"Of course not, Hermione, you don't see anyone else looking at her." Harry turned toward the Ravenclaw table. "Where is she anyway?"
"She left," said Ron, sounding as if he had just come out of being hypnotized. He started picking at his casserole.
"I'm not hungry anymore.let's go back."
[a/n. I know I've said it twice.next chapter will be more, well, back to the original story. R&R]
dishclaimer: I own nothing of this, it's all j.k. rowling.
It was Saturday, and even if there was no class, there was still a lot of homework to be finished, except for Hermione, of course, who only had an essay or two. All three of them would've gone outside to do their homework and enjoy the sunshine, but unfortunately, there was no sunshine to enjoy.. Winter wasted no time in approaching, and in fact, Ron had sworn he had seen some flurries outside in the morning.
"Oh, come off it Ron, why do want snow that badly anyway? The only class they'd cancel would be Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures, and worse, they'd cancel Quidditch practice! Or wait, would they?" said Hermione, turning toward Harry.
They were walking towards the Great Hall for lunch, all three of them were starving after a morning's worth of homework. Well, for Ron, it had been a morning's worth of pretending to do homework. He had been thinking about what Hermione had said for a very, very long time. At one point, he even thought he might tell Harry, because pure rejection would wipe Hermione's feelings much quicker then time alone. But that was cruel, Ron had thought, and he wasn't even sure that pure rejection would be provided.
"Hey, look! It's Potty, the Weasel, and Mudblood!" said a sneering voice. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were so used to this taunt that Hermione, the one who verbally abused Malfoy the least by far, was forced to shout, "Is that the best you've got? I could've sworn you'd shot that one at us four or five years ago as well!"
Malfoy, clearly put out by Hermione's own taunt, just shot them the dirtiest look he could muster and walked off.
"Funny, didn't see Crabbe or Goyle behind him, usually they're like his house-elves-"
At this remark, Hermione shot Ron a dirty look of her own.
"I've told you millions of times, Hermione, it's just an expression!" said Ron exasperatedly.
"Yes, Ron, but-"
"You know, the two of you argues this so many times, if one of you were to land up in the hospital wing I could fill in for you, because I know exactly what you're going to say," interrupted Harry, trying to extinguish an age-old fire.
"Anyway, I met this girl yesterday, she was really nice, she was watching our Quidditch practice, and at first, I thought she was some kind of spy or something, but she was really nice, her name is--" as Harry rambled on, Ron looked at Hermione's reaction to this. It was clear she was trying to look and sound nonchalant, and the truth was, if Ron didn't know that Hermione fancied Harry, he wouldn't be able to tell.
".and she transferred her third year! I didn't know you could do that!" said Harry. He turned to Hermione. "Did they say anything about that in Hogwarts, a History?"
The sarcasm went undetected.
"Well no, actually, but I think Dumbledore lets people transfer in very special circumstances, or for some reason they weren't able to come when they were 11, so they could come as soon as they were ready or something like that. What House is she in?"
"She's a Ravenclaw, but I've never noticed her before. You know, Ron, I think you should meet her. She's a big supporter of the Cannons." Ron looked at Harry "Really? A real one? Not some frontrunner who decided that now that the Cannons are winning that they-"
"She's supported them almost as long as you have. Her brothers won't let her like any other teams. Well, that's what she says at least."
"Why you trying to set me up anyway?" said Ron suspiciously. Harry didn't do this, what could he be up to?
"I'm not trying to set you up, Ron, really, I just thought you'd like to meet her."
As they entered the Great Hall and sat down, they heard the sound of flapping wings, clicking beaks, and soft hoots. They looked up to see a mass of owls entering, dropping parcels and parchment to their owners. Harry and Ron had not sent any letters, so they did not expect to see any white or tiny owls. However, there was a tiny and white owl that was trying desperately to hold its package.
"That's not Pigwigdeon, it can't be, unless Ginny or someone was using it-"
"It can't be Pig, Ron, Pig's not snowy white-"
The owl dropped in front of girl with black and auburn curls. The girl was very pretty, beautiful in fact, with honey eyes and mocha skin. She petted the owl softly, gave it a chunk of bread [that was almost bigger than it's entire body] and it went off. She unrolled the parchment and read the letter and started to smile; she had an amazing smile.
"That's her, Ron! That's her! Her name's.well I don't remember her name, but that is her!"
Ron stared at the girl.
"Ron, don't stare," said Hermione. "You look stupid with your mouth open like that."
"Yeah, what are you gaping at, Weasley? A sack of Galleons? Never seen it before have you?" There was no one else this could be. Harry turned back at Malfoy, with his pale eyes, hair, and skin, and his arrogant swagger.
"You, know, Malfoy, you're really losing your touch."
"Yeah, I mean, even Ginny could come with better," chimed Hermione.
"What's wrong, Malfoy? Going soft?"
He narrowed his cold eyes. "You still haven't answered my question, Weasley. What are you staring at?" Ron, determined not to answer Malfoy [his ears were a little bit red], kept looking. Malfoy eventually followed Ron's gaze, and looked at the girl. Both Harry and Hermione expected something, a comment, a taunt, something. But there was nothing. Malfoy started to stare at her as well, his expression softened.
Hermione leaned toward Harry, "She's not part veela, is she?"
"Of course not, Hermione, you don't see anyone else looking at her." Harry turned toward the Ravenclaw table. "Where is she anyway?"
"She left," said Ron, sounding as if he had just come out of being hypnotized. He started picking at his casserole.
"I'm not hungry anymore.let's go back."
[a/n. I know I've said it twice.next chapter will be more, well, back to the original story. R&R]