It started just like any other day...
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the settings. This is story is based upon the world of wizards, created by JK Rowling, and I owe her so much for doing that.
Authors note: Thanks for reading.
It was an early Wednesday morning at the end of October when the Boy Who Lived suddenly awoke from an uneasy sleep. The boy, still sweating, spent a couple of seconds realizing that he was safe inside his own dorm in Gryffindor tower, and not in the Department of Mysteries, as he had been a couple of months earlier. Tonight, like many other nights, he had dreamed about the death of his godfather, Sirius Black. Harry kept seeing Sirius's animagi-form falling through the Veil. Over and over again.
He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself, doing his best to clear his mind of the memories, before going about his daily routine. He quickly changed into his school robes, and began the exhausting task of waking his best friend, Ron Weasley. Ron was a wizard from a family of redheads, and was fond of wizards' chess, chocolate frogs and sleeping till 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Harry, knowing he wouldn't get anywhere being gentle, seized the tall, freckled boy by his shoulders and started shaking.
"Ron!" he yelled. "Ron, get up, you lazy prat!" There was no response.
"Ron!" He yelled once more. "Fire!" Ron turned over in bed, grabbed his wand and muttered a few words, resulting in water shooting out of the tip of his wand and drenching the front of Harry's robes. Harry, too mad to be impressed by the fact that Ron had done the spell in his sleep, made a decision. No more Mr. Nice Wizard!
"Ron!" he yelled. "I just caught Malfoy snogging Hermione outside the portrait of the Fat Lady!" Ron's head shot up.
"Wha..?" he yelled, face turning red. "He..? They.. They did wha..? She.. With him..? I'LL KILL HIM! I DON'T CARE IF I'M EXPELLED, I'LL KILL HIM!!" Then he caught sight of Harry, doubling over in laughter.
"Harry!" Ron yelled. Harry realized suddenly that all of Ron's anger was now focused in his direction. "You git! I'll kill you for this!" Harry, still wheezing with laughter, started running. Ron set off after him, dressed only in his too-short pajamas.
The chase ended in the common room, where Ron finally caught up with Harry. Ron quickly secured Harry in a rather impressive headlock. No matter how much Harry squirmed, he could not escape the knuckle-rubbing his scull was exposed to. It was no surprise then, that his hair was even messier than usual when a brown-eyed, bushy-haired witch walked in.
"Ron," she began sternly. "What on earth are you doing? And Harry, why are you all wet?"
"He deserved it," Ron answered feebly. He didn't seem to be quite as angry from what Harry could see. Harry let out a sigh, and before any more excuses could be made, she whipped out her wand and preformed a drying spell on Harry, leaving him warm and tingling.
"Are you boys ready to go down for breakfast?" she asked irritably, but buried somewhere beneath the irritation, Harry was sure he could hear a trace of amusement.
"Yeah...," he answered, trying, uselessly, to smooth down his hair.
"Sure," Ron said, apparently eager at the thought of food. Hermione looked at him disapprovingly.
"You might want to consider changing first," she said. Ron looked down his front, just as Harry turned to see what Hermione was on about. He saw Ron's ears turn red as he discovered that he was still wearing his pajamas.
"Right," he stuttered, "I'll go fix that." And then he sprinted towards the boys' dormitory as fast as his long legs could carry him.
Harry laughed at the gangly teenager flying up the stairs. Hermione muttered something under her breath that Harry swore sounded a lot like "boys!" This comment made him feel slightly offended, as he was not wearing pajamas, but before he was able to comment, Hermione spoke again, louder this time.
"Honestly," she said. "I don't know why I put up with him."
"Comic relief?" Harry joked, feeling guilty a second later. "You know you care about him, even if he can be annoying. We both do. And as for the putting up with, you can be quite a handful yourself, you know."
The look on her face was enough to let Harry know he'd made a mistake, and he immediately tried to smooth things over. "But we still love you!" he said quickly. Happy to see her face turning pensive, Harry relaxed, and Hermione sank down on the couch. Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, made a leap onto her lap. Harry had never liked the flat-faced cat, but couldn't bring himself to hate it either.
"Thanks," Hermione said, stroking the cat's ginger fur. "And you're right. I do care about him. I care about the both of you, but he does so many stupid things." Crookshanks, spotting some poor rodent, jumped off her lap, and ran beneath the sofa. Hermione didn't seem to care. "But sometimes he does the nicest things."
Harry was surprised and a little uncomfortable with the dreamy tone Hermione was now using to describe his best friend. Was she feeling ill? Because she didn't really sound like the Hermione he was used to.
"Yeah," Harry said, relieved that the now dressed Ron was descending from the dorm, saving him from elaborating anything. The redheaded wizard joined the other two, and they all headed down to the Great Hall.
40 minutes later, the three of them were walking down towards the dungeons, with full stomachs and gloomy moods. Double potions with Snape was enough to send anyone in their right mind into depression - Harry in particular, as he still hadn't forgiven Snape for refusing to continue Harry's occulemency lessons. He didn't think he ever would.
The fact that they were all still taking potions was, in itself, a miracle, not only because they all hated the subject (well, all apart from Hermione). Neither Ron nor Harry should have been allowed in this class at all, as Snape only let the best students take his N.E.W.T class. For once, Harry figured McGonagall, not Dumbledore, had made that possible, to make sure the two of them really went on to becoming Aurors, as she had promised in front of Umbridge. Hermione, of course, had made it on her own, as Snape had grudgingly been forced to give her top marks. And it all boiled down to the three of them standing outside the potions classroom, waiting for a teacher who hated them, and just to top it off, a certain blond Slytherin was taking the same class.
Two horrible hours later, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked out of the dank dungeon, Hermione complaining about how her potion had been closer to gray than silver, even though Harry had actually seen it sparkle. Harry's, on the other hand, had been a dirty orange, and Ron's a murky brown colour. They had been brewing Veritaserum, but as Harry hadn't gotten his right, and the potion took months to prepare, Harry a feeling he'd be asked to redo what they had done next class, and rather finish it a day later then everyone else.
Hermione's chatter died down as their path was blocked by the three Slytherins Harry loathed the most.
"Hey there, Potter," Malfoy drawled. Harry reached for his wand, not really in the mood for any of Malfoy and his rubbish
"No need for that," Malfoy said, his eyes on Harry's wandhand. "I'm just here to offer my condolences." He smirked. "I heard your dog had to be....put down."
Harry's vision turned red. His entire being was shaking with anger. Never before had he been so mad, so full of hate. He felt like he was going to explode. He reached for his wand, but something was between him and Malfoy. It wasn't until he heard the loud smack that he realized that the person separating him from Malfoy was Hermione. An angry, red handmark covered the usually pale cheek of Lucius Malfoy's son.
"Don't you listen to a word he says, Harry," she said, quivering with rage. Harry stood frozen by the shock of Hermione's actions, and judging by Ron's silence, he did the same.
"He's nothing but the filthy spawn of one of Voldemort's little slaves." At the uttering of the Dark Lords name, Ron flinched, and Harry too began recovering from the shock. Then he smiled.
"You're right, Hermione. Malfoy is beneath even the memory of Sirius, and his words can't ever touch him. He's not worth the effort." He turned and walked away, the others following his lead. Harry heard Malfoy yell after them.
"You don't get away with talking about my father like that, Mudblood!" The harsh words were followed by a curse of some sort. Harry had no chance to react. All he saw was Ron pushing Hermione into him, before being hit in the side by a red light. Harry froze at the sight of Ron crumbling to the floor.
Hermione quickly untangled herself from Harry and fell to her knees next to Ron. Harry couldn't have moved if he wanted to. His mouth suddenly felt dry. This looked too much like Mrs.Weasley's boggart. Too much...
He saw Hermione's face turn from Ron's still body to Malfoy, standing a few feet away, wand still out. For a second, no one moved. Then everything seemed to happen at once. Harry was about to reach for his wand as Professor Snape came around the corner behind him. But neither of them could do a thing, as Malfoy was lifted a few feet into the air by what could have been giant invisible hands, and thrown into the nearest wall. The impact resulted in a sickening thud, before the blond Slytherin fell soundlessly to the floor, where he remained still. A deafening silence descended upon them. Then Snape spoke.
"No one move," he ordered. "That includes you, Mr.Goyle." Snape added, as Goyle had been hurrying towards the unmoving pile on the floor, also know as Draco Malfoy.
"You there! Abott! I want you to get Dumbledore. Now!" he snapped, sending the girl scurrying along. "In the meantime," he continued, looking straight at Harry, "I want you all to remain exactly where you are." Again, the silence descended upon them, and after what seemed like eternity, Dumbledore came, Hannah Abott trailing behind him, half running to keep up with the old man.
"Everyone," Dumbledore said, authority clear in his voice. "I want you all to head back to your common rooms. Professor Snape and I shall take care of those who are hurt." Everyone, except Harry and Hermione left.
"Yes, I would imagine you two'd stay. Very well," Dumbledore said. "As soon as Mr.Malfoy and Mr.Weasley are transported to the hospital wing, I shall have a chat with you." Harry looked at Hermione, and discovered that there were no tears. He'd expected her to cry over Ron. He took her hand as Dumbledore floated Ron towards the hospital wing, and squeezed it gently. They walked to the infirmary in silence...
TBC...
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