A/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! I was so happy with all the encouragement you guys gave me with your reviews, and I'm totally grateful. Any thoughts of abandoning this fic are gone, gone, gone. Er, besides that, I don't have much to say except that foreshadowing in chapter 2 may not be what it seems...=) I don't want to confuse anyone so, er, this chapter is away from Hogwarts! Or, actually, in the process of getting away from Hogwarts. I've spoken enough...read!
Disclaimer: Don't own this. I basically only truly own....uhh, nothing. Sad, isn't it?
NO SAFE HAVEN
Chapter 3: Departing and Arriving
Harry covered his wide mouth, hiding the large yawn, as he walked down the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room. His eyes felt squinty and he was still half asleep, so he couldn't even attempt to stifle the yawn. He'd been so tired lately. He didn't understand it. His sleep wasn't as troubled with nightmares, although occasionally the image of Sirius's body in an elegant arch as it fell through the veil flashed inside his eyelids, and he woke up with cold sweat on his face, neck, and arms. But the nightmares weren't as frequent; the worst one he'd had had been at the Burrow, the night when he dreamed of Ginny as his mother and himself as his father. He was rather thankful that his dreams were no longer haunted the way they had been, and was especially grateful that he no longer woke up screaming.
He also wasn't experiencing dreams about Voldemort's thought.
Somehow, and this truly scared him, he was troubled that his mind wasn't being invaded. Part of him was unnerved because he took this as a sign that Voldemort was scheming something terrible, much too terrible to be bothered by notions of using him as part of his plan. He didn't want to spend time imagining what sort of awful plot he was concocting. But another part of him was bothered for a whole other reason, and this was what frightened him. He had grown rather used to the familiarity of seeing things in his dreams, and now that he was no longer seeing such visions, he felt as if he had been thrown out of a cycle that he had been growing acclimated to. He didn't want to feel this way about it; he knew how useful his vulnerable mind was to the Dark Lord. He understood how important it was that his mind was not used as a pinpointing device for all that Voldemort needed. But nonetheless, he felt strange without the constant tug at his mind. He wasn't even sensing what Voldemort was feeling anymore.
He had been trying to avoid thinking about that. And his thoughts were certainly drawn away from that certain subject the minute he caught a glimpse of the Gryffindor Common Room. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or puke at what he saw; it gave him an odd mixture of amusement, disgruntlement, and disgust.
His best friends were asleep in front of the fire. He knew how late-night prefect duties were cutting into their sleeping hours, but he assumed the previous night they had been much too exhausted to walk up to their dormitories. This wasn't what bothered him. The fact that they were sleeping—well—in each other's arms, bothered him. He rolled his eyes slightly and continued walking down the stairs. As he tightened his belt, his eyes wandered over Hermione's head on Ron's shoulder to Ron's protective arm around her waist. He ran a hand through his hair and sniggered. It would have been highly entertaining if he hadn't been the first to walk into the common room that morning. For a moment, he pondered over the possibility of waking Fred and George until he remembered that the twins were no longer students at Hogwarts. This was one of the times he sorely missed them.
Ron must have been terribly tired. He hadn't even taken off his shoes. Both were still wearing their full uniform, however crumpled it may be. This made Harry feel slightly less nauseous. At least he could deduce they had fallen asleep of their own accord and the position in which they ended up only ensued while they were sleeping.
Well, he could hope.
He and Ginny had spoken about the two sometimes. They inevitably came up in their conversations. Ginny was always speculating on when they would "get together." Harry preferred not to think of that time. It wasn't that he didn't believe they were perfect for each other; quite on the contrary. Even before their first year had ended, he had noticed how Ron and Hermione's friendship was not quite as platonic as his with his female best friend. Of course, over time it had grown from not quite as platonic to not platonic in any way whatsoever. But that was too complicated a matter to be thinking about. He'd rather not think about the possibility of a Ron/Hermione couple.
In all sincerity, he didn't want to be left out, and that was the only thing that he disliked about his best friends' relationship. Then again, he had neglected them somewhat, considering his flourishing relationship with Ginny. But that was different...wasn't it? You just keep telling yourself that, Potter.
Harry shook his head and marched over to the spot on the rug where they were sleeping. It was best to wake them up quick and easy instead of waiting for others to see them in such state. Not that it mattered much. Almost the whole Gryffindor House had either discrete or public bets about when they would "get together."
He was about to nudge Ron in the ribs (the side where Hermione wasn't lying...) when the portrait hole swung open. He cursed mentally and prayed that it wasn't anyone who would make the scene look too incriminating. Hell, it looked incriminating enough all on its own. He made a mental note to kick his friends later. But he noticed that it was the youngest Weasley that had clambered through the door and he relaxed. Ginny wouldn't run around screaming about this to all the Gryffindors. She would just tease Ron and Hermione till next year. That was an acceptable consequence.
She grinned. "Hey, Harry," she said. He returned the smile and nodded to the two sleeping figures.
"What do you reckon happened?"
Ginny snorted. "There are a lot of things that I reckon happened, but I doubt any of them are in any way accurate."
Harry glared at her. "They have all their clothes on, Ginevra."
She laughed. "Now you're just being nasty." She walked over to him and gave him a quick kiss. "Well, it's not like they're going to tell us if anything did happen. Knowing Ron, he'll probably blush to the tips of his ears, stammer, and claim that they 'fell asleep.'"
"Naturally." Harry prodded Ron's side with his foot and the redhead jerked awake. Hermione immediately opened her eyes as well, seeing as her pillow had rudely jumped while she was still sleeping. Ron's eyes were tiny slits, and they were red-rimmed. His hair was almost as disheveled as Hermione's, which was a mess of tangles and curls. She seemed much more awake than Ron. Then again, it could mean that she had realized where she was—and with who—long before Ron did.
When he did understand the situation, though, it was much more comedic than Hermione's wide, disbelieving eyes. Like Ginny had predicted, his ears turned such a deep shade of red they looked almost purple. His cheeks instead lost all their color. And he instantly did what was natural for Ron Weasley to do.
He swore.
"Shit! What the bloody hell are you doing here?"
Ginny and Harry laughed. Hermione scowled and glared.
"Yes, good morning to you too, Ron. I seem to recall you were the one who fell asleep first, therefore you are the one to blame. So don't start firing every swear word you can dream up at me." She gave him a stern look and quickly rolled off him.
Harry thought he saw a touch of disappointment on his face. It was quickly replaced by a frown as he muttered, "Sorry."
Hermione patted down her hair, which was larger than usual. "Thanks for waking us up, you two. I'm glad you were the first down here," she said, as Ron loosened his tie rather roughly.
Ginny gave her a look that had pity and laughter mingled in it. "Oh, please, Hermione. All the seventh years are downstairs eating breakfast, and half the third years too. They all saw you two down here but, well, I don't think many Gryffindors take it as a surprise."
Hermione's jaw clenched. She said nothing and instead stood up. Ron threw his tie down and said, "Ginny, you're nutters. Not to mention incredibly stupid."
Ginny gave her brother a nasty look. "You know, brother dear, I have no problem writing to mother and informing her that—"
Her sentence was interrupted by a small shriek from Hermione. Everyone looked at her questioningly. She looked flustered and angry with herself. Shaking her head, she said quickly, "My parents are due sometime this morning. Don't tell me you two already forgot that we're leaving for my house today! Ugh, but of course. I can't trust boys to think for themselves, especially not this one." She shot Ron a disgusted glare. He returned it. Choosing to ignore him, Hermione looked expectantly at Harry. "Well, don't just stand there, Harry! Get your things! We need to get down to breakfast and have everything ready. My parents don't like to be kept waiting..." She said all this while collecting her books from the table in front of the couch. When she saw Ron still sitting, she shrieked, "Are you deaf?!"
Ron muttered something with the words "bossy" and "moody women" in it, but he stood up nonetheless and trudged to the stairs and dragged his feet up the steps to his dormitory.
Hermione threw herself into a chair and crossed her arms in front of her chest, biting her lower lip. Harry watched Ginny giving her a curious look and he knew she was pondering whether or not to point out that she herself should do the same as she had just ordered Ron to do. Harry shot her a warning look and Ginny just smiled. Hermione noticed.
"Oh, don't think I can't tell you two are on the verge of telling me that I have to pack up too. I'm not stupid, contrary to popular belief." She unfolded her arms and said, "Just—just out of curiosity, Gin...did any of the students who passed by here when we were asleep make a big deal out of this?"
Ginny gave her a disbelieving look. "Hermione, if you came across two of you fellow House mates asleep together in front of the couch, would you notice? And would you make a big deal out of it? And would you immediately assume that—"
Hermione held up a hand. "You've made your point." She rubbed her eyes and groaned. "Great start to a holiday," she muttered. She pushed herself up off the couch (apparently, she couldn't make up her mind whether to sit or stand). She looked at Harry like she had never seen him before. "What are you still doing here?"
"Pardon?"
Hermione closed her eyes and turned away from him. "Get—your—stuff!"
Ginny nudged Harry and whispered, "You better go. She's leaning towards violent. It must not be a good day for her."
Harry glanced sideways at her. "You think?" He smiled, kissed her on the cheek, and walked to the stairs. "I'll be right down, Hermione."
"You better." She was definitely bitter. Maybe it had something to do with her rude awakening. She sighed and turned to look at Ginny. "You don't think—people won't be talking about it much, though, will they?"
Ginny shrugged. "They'll forget about it sometime soon, but definitely not the Creevey brothers."
"Why is that?"
The youngest Weasley chuckled. She made her way to the staircase leading to her dormitory and started to walk up. Halfway up the stairs, she said, "You know, you should pack too."
Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "I don't need to. I packed all my things two days ago. I just need a quick shower. But explain to me why the Creevey brothers won't forget."
"Because they took the liberty of snapping a picture of you two." With that, the redhead ran up the rest of the stairs before Hermione could react. But she didn't start screaming or tearing her hair out or ripping the nearest cushion apart.
Hermione laughed and threw herself back on the couch, unable to get the thought of her head on Ron's shoulder out of her mind.
END POV
Ron dragged his trunk down the stairs. He didn't bother to lift it up, not even with magic, and thus the loud thumps earned him nasty looks from the Gryffindors relaxing in the common rooms. But this didn't disturb Ron; his mind was elsewhere.
Sure, he had just had a minor argument with Hermione, and she was in a "bad mood," but he saw through that façade easily. He didn't understand why she was trying so hard to make people forget about what they had been seeing for years. He was almost positive that she felt the way he did, so why waste energy attempting to hide it? But then again, he never could fully understand Hermione Granger and he knew that, in ways, he never would.
"Ron!" Her voice wasn't angry, but she was catching his attention. He smiled, glad that she was behind him so she couldn't see the grin (although the fact that she was prodding him sharply in the back was rather annoying). She knew when he became lost in his own mind without even having to look at him. But she might have come to the conclusion that he was too deep in thought when he stopped in the middle of the staircase. Poking his back once more, she said, "Come on, Ron, you're blocking the way and my trunk is heavy."
He glanced back at her. "Sorry." He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wand. Pointing it at the trunk at Hermione's side, he said, "Mobilires!" The trunk lifted into the air, floating at Hermione's shoulder. "Back up for a sec, please," Ron said. She did as she was told and he directed the trunk with his wand so that it floated in front of him. "Now can I stand here?" He gave her a lopsided smile.
Hermione bit her lip. He knew the effect his lopsided smile had on her. She glared at her feebly and said, "Don't get smart on me. Now go down! My parents will have a fit!"
Ron laughed and led both trunks down the rest of the stairs, still allowing his to emit the loud thumps as it hit each step. At the bottom, he kicked it off to the side and gently let Hermione's float down on top of it. Then he clapped his hands satisfactorily and looked around for Harry.
"Quite the gentleman, aren't you, mate?" he said when Ron found him, sitting smugly in his usual chair. Ginny was perched on the armrest. On the floor next to the chair sat Luna cross-legged; Ron was still trying to get used to her almost daily visits. She gave Ron a smile, her protuberant eyes looking more awake than ever. He waved awkwardly and said, "Yeah, Harry, you should learn from me."
Ginny draped an arm around Harry. "No, he's all right the way he is." She kissed him on the cheek and Ron made a gagging noise. Hermione, who was now standing next to Ron, chuckled and said, "We should get going. My parents are probably waiting in the entrance hall. They were due 5 minutes ago."
Harry nodded. He stood up and brought Ginny close to him. Ron rolled his eyes and sat on the trunks, muttering, "This is gonna take a while." Ginny gave him a sharp look, but her attention was taken back to Harry when he put his arms around her waist.
"I'm going to spend Christmas day with you at the Burrow. You know that, right? And Hermione said you could come over any time," he said to her. Ginny nodded. "Even so...I'll miss you. I've gotten used to you. You're not as annoying anymore." He smiled and she returned it. Ron couldn't help but smile a little himself.
"Yeah, well, you've come a long way yourself," she said. "Mum said she wouldn't mind having you over once in a while, or maybe often, or maybe everyday. I don't expect you to come everyday but...once in a while is good." She tilted her head upward and caught his mouth in hers. She kissed him deeply for a few seconds, then pulled away. She whispered something to him, he nodded, and then they let go of each other. Harry looked expectantly at his best friends.
Ron tried his best to wipe the look of slight nausea off his face. Hermione, who had been leaning on the stair railing, looked up. She walked to Ginny (Ron couldn't help catching a whiff of her freshly shampooed hair—it smelled like lavender), hugged her, and said, "You definitely need to come by sometime, Gin. It's not the same without you." The younger girl nodded and promised she would drop by. Ron took this as his cue to stand and pick up his trunk (and charm Hermione's). He patted his sister on the arm and said, "I'll see you soon, sis."
Ginny grinned. "Yes, unfortunately." She gave her brother a loving hug and said, "Have fun!" All three friends nodded. Harry leaned over sideways a bit and waved to Luna, "'Bye, Luna." Hermione offered the girl a smile. "Have a good holiday," she said. Ron gave her an acknowledging nod. "I reckon we'll see you Christmas day," he said, and Luna nodded.
"I'm growing a nest of nargles on my bedroom window at home. Maybe I'll come by and show it to all of you," she said cheerfully. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged nervous glances and laughed.
"Sounds like something to look forward to," said Harry.
"Here, Ron, let me take that," Hermione said, reaching for her trunk. Ron floated it out of the way.
"I've got it. Just open the door. Your parents are waiting."
She smiled. "Thanks."
Ron saw Harry glance at Seamus and Dean, who were sitting across from each other playing chess nearby. They were both giving Hermione knowing looks. Ron felt his ears flush. His cheeks joined in when Seamus mouthed the word, "Whipped." Harry gave him a sympathetic look, shrugged, and followed Hermione out of the portrait hole.
Ron, with no suitable retort, followed as well.
END POV
"This is it."
Emerging from the car, Ron found himself looking at a magnificent house. Its walls were made of a fine white marble, making it glisten even more than the snow covering its shingled roof. It was a large house, no doubt about it. Ron was sure there were plenty more rooms than necessary inside. Everything seemed to be in place, even from the outside. The snow on the yard was patted down neatly, and none of it strayed onto the stone path leading up to the door. The garage was completely clear of snow as Mr. Granger pulled into it and brought the car to a stop. Every aspect of Hermione's house was a sharp contrast to the Burrow, the house where Ron had grown up and lived all his life. The two houses were about as different as—well—as him and Hermione. The irony of it was almost funny.
"So you live in a castle even when you're not in school?" Ron said, still staring at the house in awe. Harry sniggered as he closed the car door. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You're either at a lack of observational skills or you're blind," Hermione said, walking past him and up the stone pathway.
Ron smirked. "Isn't that about the same thing?"
Hermione stopped walking. She turned and glared at Ron. Choosing to ignore his somewhat true statement, she said, "Daddy, do you think you could bring our trunks in for us? I want to show the boys around. They tend to lose their way even in the simplest of places."
"Hey, I've found my way through a labyrinth, so I'm not as dimwitted as Ron," Harry said, making his way up to the door and taking in his surroundings at the same time.
Ron shook his head. "Am I that easy to make fun of?" Both his friends nodded. Ron laughed and went to the trunk of the car, where he lifted one of the trunks out. Mr. Granger gave him a pat on the back and said, "Thanks, son." Ron couldn't prevent his ears from reddening slightly at the word "son," even if it was just a figure of speech. He was very much aware that Harry sniggered heartily when he saw this. Mr. Granger told him he could leave the trunk in the entrance room and he'd take care of taking them up. Ron nodded and went to join his friends at the door.
Hermione smiled and rang the doorbell. They heard the sounds of high heels clicking on a tile floor and then the door opened to reveal a rather pretty middle-aged woman. She had straight light brown hair that curled at the tips. Her face was the color of a porcelain doll, and her face reminded Ron of one too. She had nice features and wore little make-up. Her eyes were warm, friendly, and showed she was a clever woman. Without a doubt, Hermione had her eyes and smile.
"Hermione, darling!" Mrs. Granger said when she saw her daughter. The two embraced. Ron knew how much Hermione missed her mother while she was at school. She had told him how she felt a rift growing between her and her parents, and she wanted to let them know that she cherished the time she could spend with them. Ron didn't know how it felt, what with his close contact with his family, but he hoped she'd find some quality time with her parents.
"Mum, you've already met them once, but I daresay it's been quite a while," Hermione said, beaming. "Here are my best friends, Ron and Harry." Mrs. Granger's eyes traveled from Ron's grinning, freckled face, down to Harry's nervous, small smile.
"Well," she said, hugging each boy briefly, "You two have certainly grown. Especially you!" She chuckled as she stood in front of Ron. "And you don't intimidate my daughter too much? You're much taller than her," she said to him.
Ron shook his head and said, "No, ma'am, but I do make a habit of teasing her about it." Hermione bit her lip and Ron's stomach did an odd flop—there was pride and pleasure etched in every part of her face.
Mrs. Granger laughed. "And Harry. I hear you're the referee between these two."
Harry shot his friends amused glances and nodded. "Yeah, they never leave each other alone. They're either the best of friends or ready to rip out each other's throats."
"I see." Mrs. Granger raised an eyebrow and said, "Well, Harry, I think we'll spend plenty of time talking, eh?" Ron's cheeks reddened and both Mrs. Granger and Harry laughed.
Hermione shook her head and said, "Honestly, Mother." She then grabbed Harry and Ron's wrists. "Come on! I want to show you around!" Before they could object, they were dragged up the ornate staircase.
At the top of the stairs, Hermione let go of their wrists and said, "Well, what do you want to see? The rooms where you'll be staying, the bathrooms—"
"Your room," they said in unison.
Hermione looked taken aback. "My bedroom? What for? You have no business in there."
Ron gave her a sly look. "Why, 'Mione? Are you hiding something?"
Hermione raised a finger up in front of his face in warning. "Don't call me that!"
Ron wrapped his hand around her finger and held it tight. "All right. But you do have to show us your room. That's one of the greatest reasons to visit your best friend's house! You need to rummage in their rooms to fully understand their personality and see what they're like when they're all alone."
"Ron's giving you rubbish, Hermione. Basically, we just want to see your room 'cause you're a girl. It's gotta be totally different from ours." Harry gave her a simple explanation but he wasn't sure if she heard all of it, seeing as she was staring fixedly at her finger wrapped in Ron's hand.
She snapped out of her trance, however, and said, "Very well, then. I assure you my room isn't blinding to the eye at first sight."
"Oh, please, Hermione, you've spent plenty of time in my room to still be vulnerable to the colors." Ron turned red immediately after he said this. Hermione couldn't hide the red tinge on her cheeks. But she was biting back a laugh nonetheless.
"Actually, Harry's spent more time in your room than me."
The three friends looked at each other and, after a round of "Eww"s, burst into laughter. Hermione clutched her stomach; Harry and Ron leaned on each other, trying not to fall. It was comforting when they spent time laughing like this together. It erased the darker thoughts from their minds. So even through the laughter, they appreciated the fact that they were with each other. When their giggles finally died down, Hermione said, "Okay, my room's over this way."
Following her down the hallway to the right, Ron counted 6 doors before they reached Hermione's room (the second to last door on the hallway). Hermione opened the door and entered before them. When Ron stepped inside, he took a quick glance around and smiled. There were aspects of the room that just felt like Hermione. But there were other things that you didn't normally associate with Hermione. Her walls were a pretty shade of orange, a mix of orange-juice orange with a hint of mahogany to make it subtler. It wasn't vibrant, but the room looked lively and well kept. There were bookcases on three of the walls that almost touched the ceiling. There were paperbacks and hardcovers, of all colors and sizes. It seemed Hermione used any and all of her money on books. But that wasn't too hard to believe. Her desk was next to her bed, and it was very organized. There were fresh sheets of parchment on it, and a quill in its bottle of ink next to it. On a shelf on the desk sat a couple of Muggle schoolbooks and regular spiral notebooks, with plenty of sharpened pencils neatly sitting in a cup. A pretty, old-fashioned lamp adorned the left side of her desk. Her bed looked comfortable and wasn't too distracting. The bedsheets were a soft blue color with no particular pattern, except for the few golden five-point stars scattered here and there. Ron liked the fact that he saw no large mirrors anywhere in the room; he knew she was never one to care for her looks, and she honestly didn't have to. Her room was homey and Ron couldn't help but take a liking to it right away. Planning on spending a fair amount of time here, eh, Weasley?
The few things in her room that seemed out of place were on her desk, her bed, and her nightstand. On her desk was a pink book. It looked out of place simply because it was pink and flowery. Hermione saw him looking at it. She picked it up and said, "I kept this because my grandmother gave it to me before she died. I was really close to her. She gave me pictures that she particularly liked from when I was a little girl." Immediately, Ron and Harry dashed over to her and tried to take the album from her. She held it against her chest, however, and shook her head. "Maybe some other day. I want to finish showing you guys the house."
"Whoa, whoa, wait. What's with the little dog?" Ron asked, pointing to her bed. Hermione was not the type to keep cute little stuffed animals, but there sat one on her bed, a rather adorable golden retriever puppy. It's tongue hung out of its mouth and gave Ron a friendly stare.
Hermione looked at it and Ron saw a touch of sadness in her eyes. "He's Pygmalion. The only pet I ever had before Crookshanks."
"Uhh, Hermione? He's not a real dog," Ron said. Hermione gave him a cold glare.
"I know he's not." She sat on the edge of her bed and put the puppy in her lap. "I had a dog, a golden retriever puppy, when I was 8 years old. I loved him so much. When we played fetch, I noticed I wasn't too coordinated, because when I wasn't hitting Pygmalion in the face, I ended up throwing the ball somewhere where he couldn't fetch it. I used to fall asleep with him like little kids fall asleep with their teddy bears. I think the only reason I talk so much is because I wouldn't shut up when I was around my dog."
"What happened?" asked Harry softly.
Hermione shrugged. "He got cancer about 7 months after I first got him. In 2 months, he was too weak to move. We had to put him to sleep. I was devastated. When I was 9 years old, my best friend gave me this stuffed animal. She said I could imagine it was Pygmalion, and I always have." She gave the dog a hug. "Sometimes I'm a little afraid to get too attached to Crookshanks."
"At least you've never forgotten Pygmalion," Harry said.
"No," Hermione said, smiling. "I haven't. And I won't." There was silence for a few moments, until Ron saw Harry looking at one particular object near the bed.
Harry pointed to her nightstand. "You actually have a mirror!"
Hermione kicked him. "Of course."
Ron gave Harry a mock-horrified look. "She is a girl, in case you haven't noticed." Hermione grinned and said, "Yeah, well, I don't spend time in front of a huge mirror, so I just keep a small one and a brush handy." The brush lay neatly next to the mirror.
"Yes, except she never actually uses the brush." Ron accepted the well-deserved punch from Hermione. "I'm going to have to take away your italicizing privileges," she said. He sat next to her on the bed as they all shared another bout of laughter. That's when his eye caught something else on the nightstand.
"The perfume I gave you," he said, pointing to the sky blue bottle. Hermione bit her lip. "Yes...I left it here during the summer, because I didn't want anything to happen to it. I only wear perfume on special occasions, and so I didn't bring it to school." Ron nodded, but he knew his face must have shown some disappointment. He had used a lot of money to buy that perfume, and he had really hoped she'd actually use it—and like it.
"Oh, Ron, don't get me wrong! It's not that I don't like it. But it's so...special. I would be extremely disappointed if I accidentally broke it or something," she said. She laid a hand on his arm but he quickly moved it away. It didn't really matter what she said—he should have known she wanted a present of much better quality.
There was a moment of awkward silence. Luckily, Crookshanks strode into the room at that very moment, followed by someone who definitely took the attention off the subject of the tiny bottle of perfume.
"Hermione!" a girl's voice squealed. Ron looked up to see a girl about their age walk through the door. She had pretty almond shaped eyes and straight dark brown hair that swished down past her shoulders. She flashed Hermione a friendly smile and ran over to her. Hermione had jumped up when she had seen her enter and now she hugged her, grinning. "I didn't know you were coming to stay for Christmas! I haven't seen you in ages."
"I know, I know...I'm sorry! I just don't have the chance to come visit my parents and spend time down her too often."
The girl nodded seriously. "Don't worry. I've heard boarding school is a drag."
Ron and Harry exchanged glances. That wiped all thoughts of the girl possibly being aware of Hermione being a witch. They turned their attention back to the two girls.
"Ron, Harry, this is Lennie Hunter. She was my best friend before I went to boarding school. Lennie, these are my best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. I met them my first year at boarding school." Hermione pointed to each boy in turn as she said his name. Lennie grinned at both of them.
"Pleasure," she said, shaking Harry's hand. When she shook Ron's, he noticed her hand lingered on his for a moment longer than with Harry. He didn't make a big deal out of it. Hermione's eyebrow had twitched for a moment, but she obviously didn't want too read too much into it, because she was still smiling when Lennie released Ron's hand.
"Lennie's the one who gave me Pygmalion." Hermione beamed at Lennie. Ron observed that Lennie looked like an athlete; she was slender and looked like she had little fat on her body.
"So are you two staying here?" Lennie asked, glancing enthusiastically from Ron to Harry.
"Oh yeah," said Ron, giving her a lopsided grin. It must have had the same effect on Lennie as it did on Hermione because she had to look away for a moment.
"Well, I hope I'll get the chance to spend time to get to know you guys," she said.
"As do I," Ron replied.
Hermione perched herself down next to Ron on the bed. "They're great. Might be a little hard-headed sometimes but they're still the best."
Lennie held eye contact with Ron for a second. "I can tell."
Ron noticed Harry watching him watching Lennie. He glanced at his best friend out of the corner of his eye and exchanged one of those Looks that best friends develop over the years, one of the Looks that say very much but makes its message completely clear. Ron wasn't going gaga over this girl, but he knew Harry understood that she was quite a difference from the girls they were used to at Hogwarts.
Apart from Hermione, of course.
A/n: Whew! That was a longer chapter than usual (oh, by one page). Sorry it took so long for me to update, but now I'm really getting into this story cuz I just got flooded with ideas and, well, I've been getting a fair dosage of Johnny Depp, which always helps. A big shoutout to my friend Lennie, who I'm sure is going to kill me. I love ya!
PLEASE REVIEW! =)