Jez:Yeah, I thought it was a bit weird as well, but nothing else seemed to work to move the chapter through a tough spot. He turns back to his normal self in a bit.
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"That's the last assignment for the week." Ron grinned with a certain satisfaction. It was leading into a Hogsmeade weekend, and he was in a rush. Harry grunted, scribbling a last note on his paper, and setting it atop his own pile. Ron's grin widened.
"So what if you're done first, it's not my fault." He replied. Ron eyed him, then sighed.
"Again?" He asked. Harry nodded. Harry had, since the dance was announced, been asking Cho to go with him. Despite being careful not to push, he was getting nervous about it. She hadn't turned him down, but she also hadn't said yes to him either. Ron had told Harry to let it go, and pick someone else, but Harry was being stubborn about it. "I'm telling you man..." He was interrupted by a knock on the portrait frame. Harry rose, and stepped outside. The footsteps faded away. Hermoine descended the stairs, animatedly talking with Monica, and pointing something out in a book. Monica laughed, and shook her head, and then pointed to something else. Hermoine giggled as well. They seemed oblivious to the rest of the room, as they settled into a chair by the fire. Actually, Hermoine settled into the chair, Monica perched on the arm, using a foot stool for balance. Ron rolled his eyes, and shook his head, and was about to reach for a chocolate frog from a pile before him, when Harry re-entered the room. He was beaming.
"She said yes." He grinned, snatching up the frog Ron was aiming for, without seeming to realize it. Ron gave him a glare, but Harry didn't see it. Ron ignored it, and snatched up another frog. "I didn't think she would you know." Harry continued. Ron nodded.
"You've told me." He sighed. "Repeatedly." Harry burst off into a flurry, both of words, and occasional cheers. Most of those in the common room ignored him for the most part, until Neville entered. It was of course, exactly his luck, that he knock into Harry coming down the stairs. Harry, not watching for him, stumbled back, tripping on Ron's chair, sending him to the floor, as Harry tumbled back, and into Seamus Finnegan. Harry hit the floor there, but Seamus reeled back into a knot of boys and girls, spreading them all about. Ten minutes later, when the dust was all cleared, litterally and figuratively, since a fine layer of smoke covered them all, a result of some sort of magical smoke bomb that had been knocked into the fire, Harry found himself at the bottom of a rather large pile of people. Almost at the bottom of the pile anyway. He'd attempted to rise to his feet, only to be slammed into from behind, and sent sprawling. The end result, had ended up with him laying across both Monica and Hermoine, who had been displaced early on. The weight on his back was enormous, and he was willing to bet that it was on them as well. Exactly what order who was in wasn't clear, but it took almost as long to sort out the pile as it did to create it. Harry rolled carefully off the two girls on the bottom. Hermoine rose quickly, but Monica didn't move.
"Are you alright?" Hermoine asked.
"No, as a matter of fact, I'm not." Monica replied, shaking her head. "I seem to have fallen asleep from the waist down. If I could get some help up?"
-
The snow in Hogsmeade wasn't unexpected, but wasn't really pleasant, if because of the simple fact that it made the day feel miserable for some reason. Ron, Harry, and Hermoine all felt it, as they walked through the streets. The streets were crowded as usual, but not in the same manner. Everyone was nervous. Some of the attacks from the school had been occuring down in the village as well, putting everyone on their guard, even though the attacks only occured at night. Zonko's wasn't open, because the owner had been hit, along with his daughter, and there was no one to run it. Most of the students felt bad about that, though a few because it ment that they had to send away for prank supplies, there were only a few of those. Madame Rosemerta had also been attacked, but she'd fought them off, even if she did come away with a number of nicks, cuts, and abrasions. Monica, who had recovered, was suspiscioud, and had gone to check it out, though what she expected to find was beyond any of them.
"Hey Harry, why don't you head on to the path back, and we'll follow you in a minute." Ron suggested. Harry raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, and moved on ahead.
"No Ron." Hermoine spoke.
"You didn't even hear my question." Ron grunted in reply.
"I'm not going to the dance with you." Hermoine shook her head, looking at him.
"I wasn't going to ask that, nor first off anyway. I wanted to know if you were going with anyone?" He asked. She gave him a cryptic look.
"Of course I am." She answered.
"Who?" He asked.
"I don't know." She answered with a shrug. He stared as she moved after Harry. Ron gasped an instant later as Monica's hand touched his shoulder.
"What?" He asked.
"I think things are coming to a head, and I need to talk to you in private about somethings." She replied. He turned to stare at her.
"Don't you mean Harry?" He asked. She shook her head.
"No, I need you. Harry is too strong, Hermoine can't see beyond her books for what I need, and Draco Malfoy, is too stuck up. I'll need the help from all four of you but at the moment, it's only you." She informed him.
"Why me?" Ron asked. Monica grinned.
"Because I think you're cute, besides, who'd ever suspect you?" She took his arm, and steered him into the woods.
-
Malfoy's eyes exploded open, even though he couldn't see in the darkness of the room. He couldn't move either he found. He could feel something slimy crawling the length of his body, sliding slowly upwards, engulfing him with it's very presence, pain followed it, a few inches after anyway, beyond that, it was as if his body wasn't there any more. He could feel something holding his arms down, and and something held his vocal cords immobile. He couldn't scream, even if he wanted to. He found himself waiting for death. There was nothing he could do to prevent it, and without Crabbe and Goyle, who even if they were a bit stupid, would have checked on him every so often, and saved him. The curtains suddenly burst into flame, though where the fire was from he didn't know, suddenly the feeling his his legs, and lower torso returned, and his arms and vocal cords became free again, the latter with a shout.
"Fire!" He screamed shrilly.
Ten minutes later, he stood, soaking wet, as Professor Snape finished his checks on the bed. He wanted to be sure nothing was still there. The water had come from overzealous dormmates, as they dowsed the fire, and him with it. Madame Pompfrey had come by, but didn't seem to feel there was anything that warranted a trip to the infirmary. She'd given him a bar of chocolate, and proscribed rest. Snape stepped out of the room.
"Beyond having wet your bed, nothing seems wrong." Snape gave a careful smile, just a flash. "Enjoy the rest of your night." He walked out, leaving the entrance to close behind him. Malfoy shuddered, and settled into a chair.
