Chapter 10- A Kiss or Two
Harry woke late Monday morning and only had time to swing by the Great Hall for a minute. Hermione had already been there and left. Harry's first class for that day was sure to be interesting, for, of course, "Betty" would be in it. This seemed an excellent chance to observe her. He hurried back to his classroom and organized his notes. He then sat down behind his desk to wait. Any minute now the two blond pigtails would swing into the room. It happened after half the class had filed in. Harry watched her intently as she sat down and she seemed to catch his glance.
"Today," Harry said, after everyone had sat down and finished their last minute Quidditch discussions, "we will be talking about what would happen if any of you choose to go down the wrong path and land yourself in trouble." There was an air of seriousness in his words that rendered the class motionless. "First, who can tell me what would happen, say, if some one were to perform an unforgivable curse on another human?"
The hand of a small toothy boy shot into the air. "They'd be sent to Azkaban."
"And what is so bad about that?" Harry implored. The little boy grimaced.
"Well," the boy said, "I, er, well I don't know what's inside of there."
"Azkaban is situated on an island that is virtually escape proof," Harry began. "But that is not the bad part. What's worse are the beings that guard it. Can anyone tell me about those?" A second passed and then a dark haired girl raised her hand. Harry kept her eyes on Betty about half the time to watch for signs of nervousness.
"Demon Tours?" the girl said.
"Close, but no banana," Harry said. "The beings are called Dementors. Can anyone tell me about them?" No one raised their hands. These students seemed to be just about as clueless about Azkaban as Harry had been in his third year. "Well, then, I'll have to tell you. Dementors are dark, hooded creatures that glide over the ground. Their arms are rotted looking and scaly. When these creatures approach, the air around you seems to freeze up. Your lungs don't feel as if they're working properly. An overwhelming feeling of dread, as if you will never feel happiness again, will come over you. This is because dementors feed on happiness. They exist only to drain you of any positive emotion you can render. Worse, to those who have experienced terrible things in their life, the dementors will draw these images to the front of your brain and force you to relive them. You can imagine what would happen if you were left with these creature for year after year. Many fall ill and die after being sent to Azkaban."
The entire class had gone very still, all except for Betty, who was staring at Harry in an odd way, as if making up her mind. She was shifting slightly, eyes narrowing and breath coming in short puffs.
"In your seventh year, those of you who choose to keep on taking Defense Against the Dark Arts, will learn how to ward off these creatures. Be warned though, this takes skill, concentration, and a wand... none of these are available in Azkaban." Harry went on with the lesson and gave them an example of a patronus. He also explained a bit about aurors and the branch of the Ministry dedicated to stopping crime.
Quite suddenly, Betty seemed to come to a decision to whatever inner battle she seemed to be fighting. As the rest of the class pored over their textbooks in a section called, "Crime and Punishment," Betty stood up and screeched.
"I HATE YOU!" Before Harry could react Betty had ran through the door and out into the hallway. This had definitely not been the reaction he had expected. Harry followed and emerged through the door to find the hall vacant, except, strangely enough, for Hermione. At that moment, the bell rang and as the hallway filled, Harry's thoughts of chasing Betty were pushed aside. Harry sighed and looked back at Hermione, who was smiling.
"Did you see where Betty went?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, she went towards the Great Hall," Hermione said, pointing. "I doubt you can catch her, though." Hermione's robes looked somewhat odd. The sleeves were a good two inches above her wrists. The last few stragglers from Harry's class pushed past him. Hermione had an odd look on her face and walked into Harry's classroom. Harry followed and came in, closing the door behind him.
"What happened to your robes?" Harry asked, sitting down in a desk next to Hermione.
"Oh, that!" Hermione said, looking down. "One of the kids in my class made me drop my ink bottle and it got all over my robes. I went to change and these were the only ones I could find. By then it was too late to go back to class... so I decided to drop by and see you." She was still looking at Harry with that same, odd look, something like expectation.
"So," Harry said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, "that Betty girl stormed off out of the lesson just before you arrived. She said she hated me."
"Oh," Hermione said, "I'm sure that's not true. How could anyone hate you, Harry?"
"Well, it's happened before," Harry said, smiling at Hermione's comment. "I mean, between Voldemort, Snape, and Malfoy..." Hermione looked down for a second and then stood up and began walking across the room. Had he said something wrong? Harry followed her and laid a hand on her shoulder. He had definitely not expected what happened next. Hermione turned around, put her arms around Harry's neck, leaned in, and sunk into a very long kiss. Harry was startled, but certainly didn't argue. He had never imagined Hermione to be so... passionate. A minute or so later, she broke away.
"See you later, Harry," she said, looking almost sad.
"Yeah," Harry said stupidly. "Yeah, see you." Hermione left and Harry's seventh years began filing in.
"Hey there, Professor!" Ginny said, grinning evilly. "You have a nice time chatting with Professor Granger?"
"Sit down, Virginia," Harry said back, glaring at her. At the same time he felt a flush creep up to his face.
At lunchtime Harry went back to the Great Hall, feeling that his next encounter with Hermione would be an odd one. She was back in her normal robes again and seemed determined to act as if nothing had happened.
"Harry," she said, "would you mind coming to the owlery with me? I still can't seem to find my owl. Maybe you could remember what he looks like better than I can?"
"Sure," Harry said, staring determinably into his pudding. "Let's go." They walked up the many flights of stairs together and emerged into the dropping strewn owlery. "When'd you last see him?" Harry asked, looking around.
"Not since you gave him to me," Hermione said. "You'd think he'd be here, it is the middle of the day! He should be fast asleep right now."
"Here Owl, Owl, Owl!" Harry called softly. He then realized how stupid of a thing that was to say, as a barn owl, a screech owl, and Hedwig all came and rested on his shoulders. "Er, nevermind," he said to them and they flew back to their perches, looking disgruntled. Hedwig in particular gave him a reproachful look. "Does your owl have a name?" Harry asked.
"No, I never had a chance to give him one. Plus, I'm a little stuck between a few different ones. First I wanted to make it historical, then witty, then I wanted to name him after old friends, then I just wanted to name him Fluffy. Then I realized that Fluffy is a three-headed dog—so I'm just feeling a bit, undecided." Hermione shrugged her shoulders and went on searching. "Harry," she said after a few more minutes searching, "you don't think he's been attacked, have you?"
"Let's not jump to conclusions," Harry said, though he was thinking about something Professor Grubbly-Plank had said about thestrals having been known to attack birds. Harry checked his watch. "It's nearly time to get back, class will start any minute now."
"Yeah, okay," Hermione said, reluctantly. Harry slipped his hand into hers, as was his new custom and she put her head down onto his shoulder. On an impulse, Harry turned to her. They stopped, and he leaned in and kissed her. A second later Hermione backed away, eyes wide. "Wow," she said, smiling. "Er, thank you." Harry smiled back and they walked back down to their classes.
A.N.: Not long till be reach the end, now!
Harry woke late Monday morning and only had time to swing by the Great Hall for a minute. Hermione had already been there and left. Harry's first class for that day was sure to be interesting, for, of course, "Betty" would be in it. This seemed an excellent chance to observe her. He hurried back to his classroom and organized his notes. He then sat down behind his desk to wait. Any minute now the two blond pigtails would swing into the room. It happened after half the class had filed in. Harry watched her intently as she sat down and she seemed to catch his glance.
"Today," Harry said, after everyone had sat down and finished their last minute Quidditch discussions, "we will be talking about what would happen if any of you choose to go down the wrong path and land yourself in trouble." There was an air of seriousness in his words that rendered the class motionless. "First, who can tell me what would happen, say, if some one were to perform an unforgivable curse on another human?"
The hand of a small toothy boy shot into the air. "They'd be sent to Azkaban."
"And what is so bad about that?" Harry implored. The little boy grimaced.
"Well," the boy said, "I, er, well I don't know what's inside of there."
"Azkaban is situated on an island that is virtually escape proof," Harry began. "But that is not the bad part. What's worse are the beings that guard it. Can anyone tell me about those?" A second passed and then a dark haired girl raised her hand. Harry kept her eyes on Betty about half the time to watch for signs of nervousness.
"Demon Tours?" the girl said.
"Close, but no banana," Harry said. "The beings are called Dementors. Can anyone tell me about them?" No one raised their hands. These students seemed to be just about as clueless about Azkaban as Harry had been in his third year. "Well, then, I'll have to tell you. Dementors are dark, hooded creatures that glide over the ground. Their arms are rotted looking and scaly. When these creatures approach, the air around you seems to freeze up. Your lungs don't feel as if they're working properly. An overwhelming feeling of dread, as if you will never feel happiness again, will come over you. This is because dementors feed on happiness. They exist only to drain you of any positive emotion you can render. Worse, to those who have experienced terrible things in their life, the dementors will draw these images to the front of your brain and force you to relive them. You can imagine what would happen if you were left with these creature for year after year. Many fall ill and die after being sent to Azkaban."
The entire class had gone very still, all except for Betty, who was staring at Harry in an odd way, as if making up her mind. She was shifting slightly, eyes narrowing and breath coming in short puffs.
"In your seventh year, those of you who choose to keep on taking Defense Against the Dark Arts, will learn how to ward off these creatures. Be warned though, this takes skill, concentration, and a wand... none of these are available in Azkaban." Harry went on with the lesson and gave them an example of a patronus. He also explained a bit about aurors and the branch of the Ministry dedicated to stopping crime.
Quite suddenly, Betty seemed to come to a decision to whatever inner battle she seemed to be fighting. As the rest of the class pored over their textbooks in a section called, "Crime and Punishment," Betty stood up and screeched.
"I HATE YOU!" Before Harry could react Betty had ran through the door and out into the hallway. This had definitely not been the reaction he had expected. Harry followed and emerged through the door to find the hall vacant, except, strangely enough, for Hermione. At that moment, the bell rang and as the hallway filled, Harry's thoughts of chasing Betty were pushed aside. Harry sighed and looked back at Hermione, who was smiling.
"Did you see where Betty went?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, she went towards the Great Hall," Hermione said, pointing. "I doubt you can catch her, though." Hermione's robes looked somewhat odd. The sleeves were a good two inches above her wrists. The last few stragglers from Harry's class pushed past him. Hermione had an odd look on her face and walked into Harry's classroom. Harry followed and came in, closing the door behind him.
"What happened to your robes?" Harry asked, sitting down in a desk next to Hermione.
"Oh, that!" Hermione said, looking down. "One of the kids in my class made me drop my ink bottle and it got all over my robes. I went to change and these were the only ones I could find. By then it was too late to go back to class... so I decided to drop by and see you." She was still looking at Harry with that same, odd look, something like expectation.
"So," Harry said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, "that Betty girl stormed off out of the lesson just before you arrived. She said she hated me."
"Oh," Hermione said, "I'm sure that's not true. How could anyone hate you, Harry?"
"Well, it's happened before," Harry said, smiling at Hermione's comment. "I mean, between Voldemort, Snape, and Malfoy..." Hermione looked down for a second and then stood up and began walking across the room. Had he said something wrong? Harry followed her and laid a hand on her shoulder. He had definitely not expected what happened next. Hermione turned around, put her arms around Harry's neck, leaned in, and sunk into a very long kiss. Harry was startled, but certainly didn't argue. He had never imagined Hermione to be so... passionate. A minute or so later, she broke away.
"See you later, Harry," she said, looking almost sad.
"Yeah," Harry said stupidly. "Yeah, see you." Hermione left and Harry's seventh years began filing in.
"Hey there, Professor!" Ginny said, grinning evilly. "You have a nice time chatting with Professor Granger?"
"Sit down, Virginia," Harry said back, glaring at her. At the same time he felt a flush creep up to his face.
At lunchtime Harry went back to the Great Hall, feeling that his next encounter with Hermione would be an odd one. She was back in her normal robes again and seemed determined to act as if nothing had happened.
"Harry," she said, "would you mind coming to the owlery with me? I still can't seem to find my owl. Maybe you could remember what he looks like better than I can?"
"Sure," Harry said, staring determinably into his pudding. "Let's go." They walked up the many flights of stairs together and emerged into the dropping strewn owlery. "When'd you last see him?" Harry asked, looking around.
"Not since you gave him to me," Hermione said. "You'd think he'd be here, it is the middle of the day! He should be fast asleep right now."
"Here Owl, Owl, Owl!" Harry called softly. He then realized how stupid of a thing that was to say, as a barn owl, a screech owl, and Hedwig all came and rested on his shoulders. "Er, nevermind," he said to them and they flew back to their perches, looking disgruntled. Hedwig in particular gave him a reproachful look. "Does your owl have a name?" Harry asked.
"No, I never had a chance to give him one. Plus, I'm a little stuck between a few different ones. First I wanted to make it historical, then witty, then I wanted to name him after old friends, then I just wanted to name him Fluffy. Then I realized that Fluffy is a three-headed dog—so I'm just feeling a bit, undecided." Hermione shrugged her shoulders and went on searching. "Harry," she said after a few more minutes searching, "you don't think he's been attacked, have you?"
"Let's not jump to conclusions," Harry said, though he was thinking about something Professor Grubbly-Plank had said about thestrals having been known to attack birds. Harry checked his watch. "It's nearly time to get back, class will start any minute now."
"Yeah, okay," Hermione said, reluctantly. Harry slipped his hand into hers, as was his new custom and she put her head down onto his shoulder. On an impulse, Harry turned to her. They stopped, and he leaned in and kissed her. A second later Hermione backed away, eyes wide. "Wow," she said, smiling. "Er, thank you." Harry smiled back and they walked back down to their classes.
A.N.: Not long till be reach the end, now!