A/N: This is now a joint effort founded by Angels Touch (of the hotness that is David Boreanaz, oh dear God…) and DanceDiva (of the hotness that is man-whore, oh dear God…). And let the…FUN TIMES…begin.
Chapter 4 – The Loyalty of a Friend
Somehow, even magically prepared breakfast never tasted as good when you thought that you were doomed to remain forever single as your best friend stole the love of your life out from under your nose. While you were watching. Without even a warning.
Or so thought Ron as he pushed an egg around his plate, chasing it humorlessly with a strip of golden brown bacon, his mood effectively leveling out below zero.
All around him, the boys of Gryffindor were laughing and chatting, paper airplanes crossing just as often as rowdy jokes and stories about the assorted girls of Gryffindor, most of whom were clustered around the opposite end of the table, eating with perfect elegance and chatting in low tones. It was quite the contrast on the boys' side, where food was thrown about and eaten without being examined first, the shouting only quiet when compared to the Ravenclaw table.
And sitting at almost the exact center of the table, as though holding a peace meeting between the girls' side and the boys', were Hermione and Harry, one with a newspaper spread next to his plate, the other with a school book already opened.
"Hey, Ron, why so glum? I heard you wake up last night. Bad dreams? With Snape? And the Slytherin house wearing dresses?" Dean asked as he stole a piece of toast from Seamus who was sitting to Ron's right.
"No. Just a weird dream. Something about Quidditch. Dunno; nothing important." Secretly, Ron was glad that Dean had asked. Harry had said a total of three words to him that morning, those being "Everything okay?" and, "Good," before sweeping from the room to follow Hermione out the portrait hole.
Hermione had swept him a frozen glare before summoning the book lying next to his elbow before storming from the room with Crookshanks right behind her. He knew that she had made it jostle his elbow on purpose. He just knew it.
It kind of scared him how out of control this fight had gotten. Usually a few heated words were exchanged; the friendship was still intact, and all was forgiven in a day or two, with pleasantries exchanged until then at the least.
But this had turned into a full out assault. Not only had they not spoken at all, but both were against him. Normally, one was the peacemaker while the other two glowered. This wasn't fair; it was two versus one!
Seamus, who had been studying his schedule over a tall glass of orange juice, suddenly let a mouthful fly and splattered everyone within speaking distance. Namely, all the boys who slept in his dormitory, meaning revenge was going to be a major bane for poor Seamus in a short time.
"Sorry, I didn't – I just," Seamus sputtered as he frantically tossed napkins at those sitting across from him. "It's just that…did you look at the schedules yet?"
There was a general rustling of papers as everyone went searching. Ron glanced over Seamus' shoulder at his sopping paper and scanned the list.
"Herbology, Astrology, Charms, Potions, History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, – Ha! – Muggle Studies, – Double ha! – And Transfiguration. What's wrong? Looks like a standard schedule to me. Unless you count the globs of pulp that are sticking to it."
"Don't you see? Right there." Seamus poked his finger so hard at the paper that it went right through, causing a general burst of laughter from those still watching the flustered boy.
"I see a hole," Neville put in from the other side of Seamus.
"Shut up!"
"Oh." Everyone's head simultaneously swiveled to look at Dean who was gaping at his paper. "It says we've got Potions. With Slytherin. Again."
"Again! Again! AGAIN!" Seamus sputtered loudly, his knuckles turning white around the fork he had forgotten he was clutching.
"It's like a tradition or something. It's been that way since the beginning. If they changed it now, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw would die of shock at having the Slytherins with them, you see?" Dean accidentally launched the sausage he had impaled with his fork across the table and it landed, unharmed, in Seamus' empty juice glass. He fished it out and took a bite as he finished explaining.
"Yeah, and it's this morning. In, like, six minutes," Neville said, his face already turning a pale sort of green.
"What, you mean we have it every Monday morning? Right after the weekend?" Ron asked, already horrified at the thought of facing Snape the morning after cramming all the homework he put off into Sunday night.
"Yeah, until Christmas break. Then it changes to right before the weekend for some unexplained reason."
There was another general rustling of papers as everyone tucked their schedules away and gathered their books and parchments.
When Ron stood to leave, he was surprised to find Harry standing right there, a pained expression on his face. At last he spoke, bringing his total word count to seven – "Time to go, Ron."
They headed towards the dungeons in an excruciating silence that hurt to listen to, waiting for the dungeon doors to come into sight and the torture the teachers called Potions to begin. Hermione was walking a good two steps behind Ron, and he had a strange urge to just stop walking and let her run into him, just so she would have the chance to say something.
But the silence stretched until they entered the Potion's classroom. A large crowd was gathered in the back of the room. All three ignored it, not quite sure where their talented professor was at that exact moment. Ron, after spreading out his supplies at an empty table next to Harry, with Hermione a table beyond Harry, set his wand within arm's reach, just in case.
The 'in case' came to pass as the crowd parted to allow Draco Malfoy to collapse with a girly shriek in a mock enactment of Harry's fainting spell during Dumbledore's greeting.
Ron, wand in his hand, was already stomping toward Malfoy when Harry grabbed his arm. In the second it took Ron to shake off his hand, Malfoy gave another girly shriek, only this one as he danced around the room, clutching his nose.
"Oy! My nose! You dirty, little Mudblood!"
Ron looked confusedly at Malfoy before seeing Hermione standing in front of him, a hand on her hip and her jaw set in the angry pose Ron knew oh-so-well.
"I swear to God, Malfoy, I catch you insulting Harry or Ron at all this year and I will be sure to break your nose, your jaw, take out a few teeth, and throw in a black eye just for flavor. Now apologize," Hermione's hand was already curled into a fist, something that Malfoy caught quickly.
"Sorry."
The word was barely audible, but just at that moment Snape slid into the classroom, automatically calling out, "Malfoy! Potter!" at the sight of the gathering in the back of the room. "What is going on here?" He shot an evil glare at Harry, who was still at his table, hand frozen at his attempt to stop Ron.
"It was…" Malfoy said, stammering as he glanced at Hermione. She shifted where she stood, a dangerous gleam in her eye. "I fell. Hit my nose on the table. Tripped on a book bag, 'tis all."
"Well, well, then. Back to your seats. There's nothing to see, so why are you all gathered? And Malfoy, you'd better be careful from now on. Can't have our star Seeker injuring himself before the Ravenclaw match in a week." Even as he spoke, he glared at Harry and Ron before shooting an equally evil glare at Hermione who had reclaimed her table easily, the crowd parting to let her through.
"Yes, sir, I'll be extra careful, sir."
"Good," Snape scanned the class, still standing slack jawed, shocked at what had just happened. When, in the history of Potions with Gryffindor and Slytherin, had a Gryffindor abused a Slytherin in any way and gotten away with it? "Did I not say to take your seats? The bell rang the better part of ten minutes ago!" The class rushed to obey.
Malfoy, sliding past Hermione's table on the way to his own in the front of the room, hissed, loud enough that Ron, two tables down, could hear, "Yeah, I'm sorry. Sorry that you're a filthy Mudblood!"
When Malfoy tripped, landing upside down in a cauldron a few feet away, the class laughed loudly, fingers pointing happily at the tipsy boy.
And Hermione sat smugly back in her seat, her feet stretched luxuriously in front of her.A/N: Sorry it took so long. It was going to be longer, but I decided you'd waited enough. So here it is. Hope you enjoyed it. Chapter 5 will be up soon…I hope.