Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters.
A/N: I'm afraid I got a little behind again. My classes are really kicking my butt. But I remembered you guys...if a little late.
A/N2: Thanks so much for reveiwing,CoupeLaFromage- I'll see about your request, Tears-That-Fall, Kara Black, Mia Hindo,bmxridergurl, periwinklemagic, and Serenity(). Thanks so much. You guys really make writing this worth it.
A Different You by Lina Shay
Chapter Seven: Scared
As she watched Dumbledore the nut disappear down the corridor, she felt this queer feeling come over her. It was like she was being watched. The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly prickled and stood on end. Hermione looked behind her. The long corridor was empty, eerie empty. Without reason, the torches went low and a chill entered the corridor. Hermione rubbed her arms, staring into the darkness. Then she saw a glint, a yellow glint in the dark. What was it? She took a step in that direction. It glinted again, this time closer.
"Lumos!" Hermione casted, holding up her wand which was now lit.
The glint had become two golden lights, coming closer in an eerie floating manner just above the floor. Hermione took a step back, suddenly very afraid. It still came closer. It was just outside her circle of light, when Hermione backed into something. She cried out in fright and turned to face whatever evil thing it was.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," Malfoy said with a sheepish grin.
Hermione looked back where the golden lights were. There was nothing.
"This corridor isn't usually this dark," Malfoy observed. "Kind of creepy, huh?"
"Yeah," Hermione muttered as the torches slowly rose again.
"Listen," Malfoy began nervously, "I'm sorry I brought up your mum. I just figured it had been so long that you wouldn't be bothered by it. I was wrong and I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Hermione insisted, feeling that pang when he mentioned her mum.
Malfoy smiled at her, staring into her eyes. It gave her a warm feeling that she couldn't explain. Why was he staring at her like that? Hermione began to get really self-conscious. What was he staring at?!
"Malfoy?" Hermione said to snap him back to reality.
"Oh, sorry," Malfoy muttered, looking away. "I guess I just spaced."
"What were you thinking about?" Hermione queried, curious.
"Thinking, uh..." Malfoy sputtered. "Quidditch. There's a Quidditch game this afternoon. Are you going to come to the Quidditch game?"
"I'm not sure," Hermione shrugged, wondering what the point would be. Quidditch was exciting because it was her house and her friend Harry. Now, this wasn't her house nor her friend. "Who's playing?"
"Slytherin and Gryffindor."
Of course!
"It's likely to be a riveting game," Malfoy insisted.
"I might as well go," Hermione shrugged. "It's not like I can think of anything better to do. Is Harry still a Seeker?"
"Yeah," Malfoy said as if she was a ditz. Hermione hated that.
"Well, I won't be rooting for Slytherin, that's for sure," Hermione announced.
"You can root for...er...me," Malfoy muttered. "I mean, you could root for my team, Gryffindor. I'm the Gryffindor Keeper."
"Keeper?" Hermione asked in surprise. "I wouldn't have pegged you for that."
"Uh, OK," Malfoy shrugged. "Anyway, you could keep Neville company, if you wouldn't mind."
"I wouldn't mind at all," Hermione insisted. "Neville's a fine chap."
Malfoy smiled.
That afternoon, Hermione headed up to the Quidditch pitch. She did not wear a green rosette like the other Slytherins. She didn't wear anything to show a real preference. In fact, she wasn't really thinking about the game. She thought about that thing in the dark. The two lights might have been eyes. Something with bright yellow eyes might have attacked her had Malfoy not come along. It was a scary thing to think about.
"Uh, Her-Hermione," came a voice almost too quiet to hear.
Hermione looked over at Neville, standing nervously and trying not to look directly at her.
"Hello, Neville," Hermione greeted.
Neville's ear went all-the-sudden very pink. He shifted his weight, twisting his fingers.
"Uh, hi," He muttered. "I just thought I'd...uh...say h-hi....cause, well, Draco said that you were dif-different."
Hermione laughed at this. All this time, she was thinking about how different everything around her was. She didn't realize how different she was from the Hermione they were use to.
"That's really a matter for debate," Hermione told him. "Wow, you ARE different!" Neville exclaimed.
"I believe you are my escort for this event," Hermione said, looping her arm around his.
Neville smiled, blushing, as they walked up to the stands. Neville chose front seats in the Gryffindor section. This was the first thing that seemed familiar since she got here. Though the teams weren't familiar at all. Luna Lovegood was a Gryffindor Chaser. And Ginny Weasley was a Slytherin Beater. Hermione could hardly stand to watch the match. But she had to admit that Malfoy was doing pretty well at being the Keeper. He zigged and zagged, covering the hoops. Once, when the Quaffle was sure to make it in, Malfoy was there in a second, kicking it with his left foot away from the hoop. He was amazing.
"Excuse...Pardon...Forgive me," Peter Pettigrew squeaked as he pushed through the seats, holding a picnic basket against his chest. "Pardon me, Mr. Longbottom."
Neville adjusted himself so that Pettigrew could get by. Once he was down the stands more, Pettigrew shot a glance back at Neville, a kind of cruel smirk. Neville flinched, rubbing his forehead.
"What is it?" Hermione asked. "Your scar?"
Neville nodded warily.
Hermione looked after Pettigrew. He was stumbling through the stands, regarding the basket as if it were the most fragile thing in the universe. He got down where Snape sat with Dumbledore. While Dumbledore held a quill, flying it around as if it were a broomstick, Pettigrew whispered something to Snape and pointed to the basket. Hermione noticed the oddest thing. Dumbledore's smile faded, but he kept flying around that quill. When Pettigrew had stopped whispering and settled himself with the basket in his lap, Dumbledore threw his quill at him. Snape seemed to chastise Dumbledore.
"That's odd," Hermione said to herself.
"No, Luna always flies like that," Neville told her.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at Neville. "I meant Pettigrew. What's with the basket?"
"Carries it all the time," Neville shrugged. "No one knows what's in it."
Hermione tried to forget it and go back to watching the game. Gryffindor was ahead, but Harry was on the trail of the snitch. There's no way that Gryffindor could win if Harry caught that snitch. Where was the Gryffindor Seeker? Hermione spotted Colin Creevey high on his broom taking pictures of the Quidditch game.
"MOVE YOU BLOODY BUTT, COLIN!" Hermione shouted.
Colin looked surprised, then his gaze fell upon Harry chasing the Snitch. Colin quickly flung his camera strap over his shoulder and flew his broom after Harry. Hermione's yelling had also caught Malfoy's attention, causing him to miss guarding his hoops. A Slytherin Chaser got the Quaffle passed him.
"Whoo-hoo, Gryffindor!" called Dumbledore, surrounded by shouts and yells.
Hermione looked in the direction of Dumbledore. To her surprise, he was balancing on the railing with Pettigrew's basket held high above his head. Snape and Pettigrew were pulling on him, trying to get him down. After all, if he fell off that railing, he would plunge forty feet into the Quidditch pitch.
"Don't drop it!" cried Pettigrew. "Please, don't drop it!"
Hermione jumped to her feet, as well as some of those around her. What in the world was Dumbledore doing? She knew he was mad about chasing invisible chickens, but this was just insane. Was he trying to kill himself?
"Headmaster, stop!" she called.
"Albus, get down this instant," Snape ordered.
"No!" Dumbledore laughed, waving the basket over the edge.
Pettigrew pulled out his wand, sure to do something malicious.
"That won't help," Snape insisted, snatching Pettigrew's wand away. "If you shock him, he'll only fall over, taking the basket with him."
"Whoo-hoo, Gryffindor!" Dumbledore yelled, waving the basket in the air.
"Someone has to stop him!" Hermione told Neville.
Neville just shrugged.
"Whoop!" Dumbledore exclaimed, throwing the basket into the Quidditch pitch.
"No!" Pettigrew screamed, horror-struck.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Snape casted, stopping the basket in mid-air. Slowly, it began to float back up to Snape. Dumbledore looked thoroughly disappointed as several of the teachers pulled him off the railing and back into his seat. Snape handed the basket roughly to Pettigrew.
"Keep it where it belongs!" Snape snarled.
Pettigrew hugged the basket to himself and stumbled off. Hermione let out a breath as she sat herself back in her seat.
"That definitely doesn't happen everyday," Neville muttered.
Suddenly, there was cheering. Hermione, confused, looked around. It was the Slytherin side of the stands. They had won. Harry caught the snitch.
A/N: I'm afraid I got a little behind again. My classes are really kicking my butt. But I remembered you guys...if a little late.
A/N2: Thanks so much for reveiwing,CoupeLaFromage- I'll see about your request, Tears-That-Fall, Kara Black, Mia Hindo,bmxridergurl, periwinklemagic, and Serenity(). Thanks so much. You guys really make writing this worth it.
A Different You by Lina Shay
Chapter Seven: Scared
As she watched Dumbledore the nut disappear down the corridor, she felt this queer feeling come over her. It was like she was being watched. The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly prickled and stood on end. Hermione looked behind her. The long corridor was empty, eerie empty. Without reason, the torches went low and a chill entered the corridor. Hermione rubbed her arms, staring into the darkness. Then she saw a glint, a yellow glint in the dark. What was it? She took a step in that direction. It glinted again, this time closer.
"Lumos!" Hermione casted, holding up her wand which was now lit.
The glint had become two golden lights, coming closer in an eerie floating manner just above the floor. Hermione took a step back, suddenly very afraid. It still came closer. It was just outside her circle of light, when Hermione backed into something. She cried out in fright and turned to face whatever evil thing it was.
"I didn't mean to frighten you," Malfoy said with a sheepish grin.
Hermione looked back where the golden lights were. There was nothing.
"This corridor isn't usually this dark," Malfoy observed. "Kind of creepy, huh?"
"Yeah," Hermione muttered as the torches slowly rose again.
"Listen," Malfoy began nervously, "I'm sorry I brought up your mum. I just figured it had been so long that you wouldn't be bothered by it. I was wrong and I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Hermione insisted, feeling that pang when he mentioned her mum.
Malfoy smiled at her, staring into her eyes. It gave her a warm feeling that she couldn't explain. Why was he staring at her like that? Hermione began to get really self-conscious. What was he staring at?!
"Malfoy?" Hermione said to snap him back to reality.
"Oh, sorry," Malfoy muttered, looking away. "I guess I just spaced."
"What were you thinking about?" Hermione queried, curious.
"Thinking, uh..." Malfoy sputtered. "Quidditch. There's a Quidditch game this afternoon. Are you going to come to the Quidditch game?"
"I'm not sure," Hermione shrugged, wondering what the point would be. Quidditch was exciting because it was her house and her friend Harry. Now, this wasn't her house nor her friend. "Who's playing?"
"Slytherin and Gryffindor."
Of course!
"It's likely to be a riveting game," Malfoy insisted.
"I might as well go," Hermione shrugged. "It's not like I can think of anything better to do. Is Harry still a Seeker?"
"Yeah," Malfoy said as if she was a ditz. Hermione hated that.
"Well, I won't be rooting for Slytherin, that's for sure," Hermione announced.
"You can root for...er...me," Malfoy muttered. "I mean, you could root for my team, Gryffindor. I'm the Gryffindor Keeper."
"Keeper?" Hermione asked in surprise. "I wouldn't have pegged you for that."
"Uh, OK," Malfoy shrugged. "Anyway, you could keep Neville company, if you wouldn't mind."
"I wouldn't mind at all," Hermione insisted. "Neville's a fine chap."
Malfoy smiled.
That afternoon, Hermione headed up to the Quidditch pitch. She did not wear a green rosette like the other Slytherins. She didn't wear anything to show a real preference. In fact, she wasn't really thinking about the game. She thought about that thing in the dark. The two lights might have been eyes. Something with bright yellow eyes might have attacked her had Malfoy not come along. It was a scary thing to think about.
"Uh, Her-Hermione," came a voice almost too quiet to hear.
Hermione looked over at Neville, standing nervously and trying not to look directly at her.
"Hello, Neville," Hermione greeted.
Neville's ear went all-the-sudden very pink. He shifted his weight, twisting his fingers.
"Uh, hi," He muttered. "I just thought I'd...uh...say h-hi....cause, well, Draco said that you were dif-different."
Hermione laughed at this. All this time, she was thinking about how different everything around her was. She didn't realize how different she was from the Hermione they were use to.
"That's really a matter for debate," Hermione told him. "Wow, you ARE different!" Neville exclaimed.
"I believe you are my escort for this event," Hermione said, looping her arm around his.
Neville smiled, blushing, as they walked up to the stands. Neville chose front seats in the Gryffindor section. This was the first thing that seemed familiar since she got here. Though the teams weren't familiar at all. Luna Lovegood was a Gryffindor Chaser. And Ginny Weasley was a Slytherin Beater. Hermione could hardly stand to watch the match. But she had to admit that Malfoy was doing pretty well at being the Keeper. He zigged and zagged, covering the hoops. Once, when the Quaffle was sure to make it in, Malfoy was there in a second, kicking it with his left foot away from the hoop. He was amazing.
"Excuse...Pardon...Forgive me," Peter Pettigrew squeaked as he pushed through the seats, holding a picnic basket against his chest. "Pardon me, Mr. Longbottom."
Neville adjusted himself so that Pettigrew could get by. Once he was down the stands more, Pettigrew shot a glance back at Neville, a kind of cruel smirk. Neville flinched, rubbing his forehead.
"What is it?" Hermione asked. "Your scar?"
Neville nodded warily.
Hermione looked after Pettigrew. He was stumbling through the stands, regarding the basket as if it were the most fragile thing in the universe. He got down where Snape sat with Dumbledore. While Dumbledore held a quill, flying it around as if it were a broomstick, Pettigrew whispered something to Snape and pointed to the basket. Hermione noticed the oddest thing. Dumbledore's smile faded, but he kept flying around that quill. When Pettigrew had stopped whispering and settled himself with the basket in his lap, Dumbledore threw his quill at him. Snape seemed to chastise Dumbledore.
"That's odd," Hermione said to herself.
"No, Luna always flies like that," Neville told her.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at Neville. "I meant Pettigrew. What's with the basket?"
"Carries it all the time," Neville shrugged. "No one knows what's in it."
Hermione tried to forget it and go back to watching the game. Gryffindor was ahead, but Harry was on the trail of the snitch. There's no way that Gryffindor could win if Harry caught that snitch. Where was the Gryffindor Seeker? Hermione spotted Colin Creevey high on his broom taking pictures of the Quidditch game.
"MOVE YOU BLOODY BUTT, COLIN!" Hermione shouted.
Colin looked surprised, then his gaze fell upon Harry chasing the Snitch. Colin quickly flung his camera strap over his shoulder and flew his broom after Harry. Hermione's yelling had also caught Malfoy's attention, causing him to miss guarding his hoops. A Slytherin Chaser got the Quaffle passed him.
"Whoo-hoo, Gryffindor!" called Dumbledore, surrounded by shouts and yells.
Hermione looked in the direction of Dumbledore. To her surprise, he was balancing on the railing with Pettigrew's basket held high above his head. Snape and Pettigrew were pulling on him, trying to get him down. After all, if he fell off that railing, he would plunge forty feet into the Quidditch pitch.
"Don't drop it!" cried Pettigrew. "Please, don't drop it!"
Hermione jumped to her feet, as well as some of those around her. What in the world was Dumbledore doing? She knew he was mad about chasing invisible chickens, but this was just insane. Was he trying to kill himself?
"Headmaster, stop!" she called.
"Albus, get down this instant," Snape ordered.
"No!" Dumbledore laughed, waving the basket over the edge.
Pettigrew pulled out his wand, sure to do something malicious.
"That won't help," Snape insisted, snatching Pettigrew's wand away. "If you shock him, he'll only fall over, taking the basket with him."
"Whoo-hoo, Gryffindor!" Dumbledore yelled, waving the basket in the air.
"Someone has to stop him!" Hermione told Neville.
Neville just shrugged.
"Whoop!" Dumbledore exclaimed, throwing the basket into the Quidditch pitch.
"No!" Pettigrew screamed, horror-struck.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Snape casted, stopping the basket in mid-air. Slowly, it began to float back up to Snape. Dumbledore looked thoroughly disappointed as several of the teachers pulled him off the railing and back into his seat. Snape handed the basket roughly to Pettigrew.
"Keep it where it belongs!" Snape snarled.
Pettigrew hugged the basket to himself and stumbled off. Hermione let out a breath as she sat herself back in her seat.
"That definitely doesn't happen everyday," Neville muttered.
Suddenly, there was cheering. Hermione, confused, looked around. It was the Slytherin side of the stands. They had won. Harry caught the snitch.