Thanks to Irish Chick for reviewing. My first review! Very exciting and
much appreciated!
I'm having some problems with getting italics and centring to post properly, so if anyone could tell me how to do that I would be very grateful. For now, I've put brackets around the parts that are supposed to be in italics, ie. thoughts etc.
Here's Chapter Two ...
Operation: Piss Off Percy
Hermione was still rather upset when it came time to board the Hogwarts Express. It was practically killing her not being able to talk to Percy, but she consoled herself with the fact that he was an arrogant prick who didn't deserve to be spoken to.
When they got to school she threw herself into studying for OWLs and the DA lessons in an attempt to forget him. She even went on a couple of dates with Lee Jordan but it wasn't the same ... there was no spark.
Christmas time came and she decided to send Percy a small gift and a long letter explaining how much she missed him but how much of a dickhead he was being (in slightly less harsh terms). She was relieved that these didn't get sent back to her like Mrs Weasley's jumper, however she was still extremely hurt that he didn't reply at all. Not even a thank you note.
To make matters worse, when she went downstairs for breakfast, Ginny and Lavender kept giving her furtive glances, as if she would break suddenly, and wouldn't explain their strange behaviour.
'Can you pass me the Daily Prophet please, Ron? I want to see what they're saying about Harry today.'
'Um, no, I'm uh still reading it,' he lied.
'No you're not, I saw you fold it back up when I walked in. You're finished with it.' She reached across the table and snatched it out of his grasp.
'Wait, no - '
But it was too late. Hermione already had the paper and was scanning the cover article. Flicking through to page 3, the social page, she discovered what they hadn't wanted her to see. Hermione stared in hurt silence at the picture of a beaming Percy, his arm around a rather attractive woman. The caption read [Percy Weasley, Junior Assistant to the Minister, accompanies the Minister's daughter, Amanda Fudge, to the Ministry's Yule Ball. The word is they're the new hot couple about town.]
Angry tears welled in her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. She threw the paper down in disgust and stood up hurriedly. She could see Ginny and Lavender looking at her sympathetically but Hermione didn't care. How could they know how she felt? Without a word she walked quickly back up the Gryffindor tower, muttering angrily.
After spending an entire day wallowing in her own misery, shut up alone in her dorm room, not eating and not talking to anyone she made a decision. No more self pity. It was time to implement Operation Piss Off Percy.
*
Hermione was just adjusting her outfit later the next night when Ginny walked in.
'Wow, you look nice. Where are you going?' she asked, sitting down on her bed.
'I'm off to Hogsmeade. I'm meeting Oliver at Madam Puttifoots.' She turned to Ginny and smiled.
'Oliver Wood?' Ginny asked incredulously.
'Yeah. Does this look okay?' Hermione kept her eye on the mirror, careful not to look at Ginny.
'Yeah, it looks fine,' Ginny said slowly. 'I thought you hated Oliver.'
'Yeah, well, I changed my mind.' Hermione added a final touch of lip gloss. 'Don't wait up!' she called, grabbing her handbag and running downstairs.
*
'Hi Oliver!' Hermione said cheerily, standing on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. 'How are you?'
'Good, good ... I'm good,' he replied, looking a little bewildered. 'How's things with you?'
'They're great. Shall we find a seat?'
'Yeah, sure,' he smiled. Feeling more at ease he slipped his arm loosely around her waist and led her into Madam Puttifoots.
'So, how's playing for Puddlemere United? I hear you've been voted the best Keeper in the game by Quidditch Weekly,' Hermione said, smiling sweetly and stirring her drink.
'Great, yeah, I love it. I'm trying out for the English team on Saturday. If everything goes well, I might be the new English Keeper.'
'Wow, that's fantastic!' Hermione said. [My God, could this be any more boring?? ]She wondered to herself.
'So ... uh, I don't mean to pry, but what happened with you and Percy? I thought there was no chance for us,' Oliver said, looking rather embarrassed.
'Oh, no, we broke up ages ago. He's gay. So you were wrong, there is a chance for us,' she replied, her voice dripping with sugar. [I want to vomit.]
'Really ... great! I mean I'm sorry about Percy, he was a good friend to me ... I had no idea he was, well ... you know ... but that's great about us.' Oliver looked at his watch and then looked back at Hermione. 'Listen, do you want to skip dinner and head for the clubs in Diagon Alley?'
'Sure! That'd be great!' Hermione replied brightly. She was hoping that he would say that. She knew for a fact that there was going to be a Ministry gathering in the Dragon's Breath and she wanted Percy to see her and Oliver. I am so evil.
They finished their drinks and Oliver Apparated them both to Diagon Alley.
'Oooh, the Dragon's Breath!' Hermione exclaimed, practically dragging Oliver into the popular club. [(Let's pretend there's no such thing as underage in the wizarding world, okay?)] Scanning the crowded room she spotted Percy ... and that horrible Fudge girl. She was gesturing widely and giggling hysterically. Percy was looking slightly less than amused. [Serves him right ... bastard.]
'Let's get another drink shall we?' Oliver said, making way through the crowd of people to the bar. A few minutes later they were sitting at the bar, drinks in hand, surveying the dance floor. Percy still hadn't noticed them. [Okay ... what to do? What to do?]
She kept sneaking sidelong glances at Percy, waiting, and trying to telepathically make him look in her direction. [Ugh, it's no use. Why would he look over here when he could look at that stupid Fudge girl?]
But she had spoken too soon. It was the Fudge girl, of all people, that aimed Percy's attention in their direction, obviously pointing out Oliver Wood, 'the famous Quidditch player.' Hermione seized that moment to move a bit closer to Oliver, who obligingly looped his arm around her shoulders and, even better, bent down to whisper in her ear 'I knew you'd come around.' She giggled flirtatiously and snuck another look at Percy who was looking irked. Hermione noticed with satisfaction that the tips of his ears had turned red. The wretched Fudge girl was obviously still talking to him, but he wasn't listening. [Ha ha ... mission accomplished!!]
Now came the task of getting Oliver off her. [Hmmm... ]
'Oops!' she cried, letting her glass of wine slip, spilling the deep red liquid all down the front of his designer shirt. 'Oh my God, Oliver, I'm so sorry,' she apologized.
'Not to worry.' He grinned charmingly and slipped his shirt up and over his head. [Phwoar ... he deserves the Heartthrob of the Month award that Witch Weekly gave him.] Hermione felt like she'd been hit with a stunning spell of some sort, her brain didn't seem to be functioning anymore. And Oliver was like a magnet, attracting every female (and a few males) in the place, including the Fudge girl. Hermione let herself be pushed away by the throng, working her way closer to Percy, but stopping a few metres away and turning around to laugh at the mob of idiotic women.
She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around slowly, still smiling. She let her face fall when she saw Percy. [Have to put him in his place. Let him know what I think of him ... that means no smiling.]
'Oh, hello! I didn't know you'd be here!' she lied.
'Yeah, well, here I am,' Percy replied, looking puzzled. 'Why are you here? And with him?'
'I can do whatever I want with whoever I want. It's not like we're attached anymore, are we?' she said sardonically, trying to push his buttons.
'No. No, I guess not,' he said slowly, frowning slightly. 'So, are you and, uh, Oliver together now?' he asked tentatively.
'No,' Hermione said automatically but upon seeing the relieved look on Percy's face, added, 'Not yet.'
'Oh, okay.' Percy took a small sip of his beer and looked around the room, obviously trying to work up the courage to say something. Oliver was still trying, in vain, to get the mob of fanatical females away from him. Percy turned his attention back to Hermione and looked her in the eye. 'I got your gift at Christmas. And the letter. Thank you.'
[Oh crap.] Hermione wasn't expecting this. [Crap crap crap.]
'Why didn't you write back?' she asked accusingly.
Percy sighed. 'To tell you the truth, I didn't know what to say.' He looked distinctly uncomfortable.
'A simple "thank you" would have sufficed,' she replied, unforgiving.
'I know and I'm sorry. I thought you knew how I felt...' His voice trailed off.
'No I didn't. That was the point of the letter. For me to find out how you felt,' Hermione said plainly, looking directly at him.
'You were the one who broke up with me remember. I thought you would be aware of how I felt from that,' Percy replied defensively.
[How do I reply to that?] Hermione racked her brain for some form of a reply, but upon finding none, simply muttered an almost inaudible 'Oh.' [Very articulate, Hermione.]
'So...' Percy said, taking a long nervous swallow of his beer. 'Where does that leave us?'
'I don't know,' Hermione replied truthfully. 'Do you still read the Daily Prophet?'
'Yes,' Percy replied, utterly confused. 'It provides for interesting tea room conversation at work.'
Hermione sighed. 'Then I think you've got your answer.' She gave him a sad smile and turned away, pushing her way through the crowd of females and pulled a flustered looking Oliver out of the door and back into Diagon Alley, her heart almost breaking in two.
'Let's get smashed,' she told him determinedly as he pulled his shirt back on. There were now a few rips and holes as a result of his encounter with the entire female population of the Dragon's Breath, as well as the stain. 'Here,' she said, muttering a quick spell that repaired his shirt. 'Good as new. Now let's go.' She grabbed his hand and marched him into The Leaky Cauldron, where she proceeded to order a double shot of tequila and spent the rest of the night flirting like mad with Oliver and getting extremely drunk.
*
I'm having some problems with getting italics and centring to post properly, so if anyone could tell me how to do that I would be very grateful. For now, I've put brackets around the parts that are supposed to be in italics, ie. thoughts etc.
Here's Chapter Two ...
Operation: Piss Off Percy
Hermione was still rather upset when it came time to board the Hogwarts Express. It was practically killing her not being able to talk to Percy, but she consoled herself with the fact that he was an arrogant prick who didn't deserve to be spoken to.
When they got to school she threw herself into studying for OWLs and the DA lessons in an attempt to forget him. She even went on a couple of dates with Lee Jordan but it wasn't the same ... there was no spark.
Christmas time came and she decided to send Percy a small gift and a long letter explaining how much she missed him but how much of a dickhead he was being (in slightly less harsh terms). She was relieved that these didn't get sent back to her like Mrs Weasley's jumper, however she was still extremely hurt that he didn't reply at all. Not even a thank you note.
To make matters worse, when she went downstairs for breakfast, Ginny and Lavender kept giving her furtive glances, as if she would break suddenly, and wouldn't explain their strange behaviour.
'Can you pass me the Daily Prophet please, Ron? I want to see what they're saying about Harry today.'
'Um, no, I'm uh still reading it,' he lied.
'No you're not, I saw you fold it back up when I walked in. You're finished with it.' She reached across the table and snatched it out of his grasp.
'Wait, no - '
But it was too late. Hermione already had the paper and was scanning the cover article. Flicking through to page 3, the social page, she discovered what they hadn't wanted her to see. Hermione stared in hurt silence at the picture of a beaming Percy, his arm around a rather attractive woman. The caption read [Percy Weasley, Junior Assistant to the Minister, accompanies the Minister's daughter, Amanda Fudge, to the Ministry's Yule Ball. The word is they're the new hot couple about town.]
Angry tears welled in her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. She threw the paper down in disgust and stood up hurriedly. She could see Ginny and Lavender looking at her sympathetically but Hermione didn't care. How could they know how she felt? Without a word she walked quickly back up the Gryffindor tower, muttering angrily.
After spending an entire day wallowing in her own misery, shut up alone in her dorm room, not eating and not talking to anyone she made a decision. No more self pity. It was time to implement Operation Piss Off Percy.
*
Hermione was just adjusting her outfit later the next night when Ginny walked in.
'Wow, you look nice. Where are you going?' she asked, sitting down on her bed.
'I'm off to Hogsmeade. I'm meeting Oliver at Madam Puttifoots.' She turned to Ginny and smiled.
'Oliver Wood?' Ginny asked incredulously.
'Yeah. Does this look okay?' Hermione kept her eye on the mirror, careful not to look at Ginny.
'Yeah, it looks fine,' Ginny said slowly. 'I thought you hated Oliver.'
'Yeah, well, I changed my mind.' Hermione added a final touch of lip gloss. 'Don't wait up!' she called, grabbing her handbag and running downstairs.
*
'Hi Oliver!' Hermione said cheerily, standing on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. 'How are you?'
'Good, good ... I'm good,' he replied, looking a little bewildered. 'How's things with you?'
'They're great. Shall we find a seat?'
'Yeah, sure,' he smiled. Feeling more at ease he slipped his arm loosely around her waist and led her into Madam Puttifoots.
'So, how's playing for Puddlemere United? I hear you've been voted the best Keeper in the game by Quidditch Weekly,' Hermione said, smiling sweetly and stirring her drink.
'Great, yeah, I love it. I'm trying out for the English team on Saturday. If everything goes well, I might be the new English Keeper.'
'Wow, that's fantastic!' Hermione said. [My God, could this be any more boring?? ]She wondered to herself.
'So ... uh, I don't mean to pry, but what happened with you and Percy? I thought there was no chance for us,' Oliver said, looking rather embarrassed.
'Oh, no, we broke up ages ago. He's gay. So you were wrong, there is a chance for us,' she replied, her voice dripping with sugar. [I want to vomit.]
'Really ... great! I mean I'm sorry about Percy, he was a good friend to me ... I had no idea he was, well ... you know ... but that's great about us.' Oliver looked at his watch and then looked back at Hermione. 'Listen, do you want to skip dinner and head for the clubs in Diagon Alley?'
'Sure! That'd be great!' Hermione replied brightly. She was hoping that he would say that. She knew for a fact that there was going to be a Ministry gathering in the Dragon's Breath and she wanted Percy to see her and Oliver. I am so evil.
They finished their drinks and Oliver Apparated them both to Diagon Alley.
'Oooh, the Dragon's Breath!' Hermione exclaimed, practically dragging Oliver into the popular club. [(Let's pretend there's no such thing as underage in the wizarding world, okay?)] Scanning the crowded room she spotted Percy ... and that horrible Fudge girl. She was gesturing widely and giggling hysterically. Percy was looking slightly less than amused. [Serves him right ... bastard.]
'Let's get another drink shall we?' Oliver said, making way through the crowd of people to the bar. A few minutes later they were sitting at the bar, drinks in hand, surveying the dance floor. Percy still hadn't noticed them. [Okay ... what to do? What to do?]
She kept sneaking sidelong glances at Percy, waiting, and trying to telepathically make him look in her direction. [Ugh, it's no use. Why would he look over here when he could look at that stupid Fudge girl?]
But she had spoken too soon. It was the Fudge girl, of all people, that aimed Percy's attention in their direction, obviously pointing out Oliver Wood, 'the famous Quidditch player.' Hermione seized that moment to move a bit closer to Oliver, who obligingly looped his arm around her shoulders and, even better, bent down to whisper in her ear 'I knew you'd come around.' She giggled flirtatiously and snuck another look at Percy who was looking irked. Hermione noticed with satisfaction that the tips of his ears had turned red. The wretched Fudge girl was obviously still talking to him, but he wasn't listening. [Ha ha ... mission accomplished!!]
Now came the task of getting Oliver off her. [Hmmm... ]
'Oops!' she cried, letting her glass of wine slip, spilling the deep red liquid all down the front of his designer shirt. 'Oh my God, Oliver, I'm so sorry,' she apologized.
'Not to worry.' He grinned charmingly and slipped his shirt up and over his head. [Phwoar ... he deserves the Heartthrob of the Month award that Witch Weekly gave him.] Hermione felt like she'd been hit with a stunning spell of some sort, her brain didn't seem to be functioning anymore. And Oliver was like a magnet, attracting every female (and a few males) in the place, including the Fudge girl. Hermione let herself be pushed away by the throng, working her way closer to Percy, but stopping a few metres away and turning around to laugh at the mob of idiotic women.
She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around slowly, still smiling. She let her face fall when she saw Percy. [Have to put him in his place. Let him know what I think of him ... that means no smiling.]
'Oh, hello! I didn't know you'd be here!' she lied.
'Yeah, well, here I am,' Percy replied, looking puzzled. 'Why are you here? And with him?'
'I can do whatever I want with whoever I want. It's not like we're attached anymore, are we?' she said sardonically, trying to push his buttons.
'No. No, I guess not,' he said slowly, frowning slightly. 'So, are you and, uh, Oliver together now?' he asked tentatively.
'No,' Hermione said automatically but upon seeing the relieved look on Percy's face, added, 'Not yet.'
'Oh, okay.' Percy took a small sip of his beer and looked around the room, obviously trying to work up the courage to say something. Oliver was still trying, in vain, to get the mob of fanatical females away from him. Percy turned his attention back to Hermione and looked her in the eye. 'I got your gift at Christmas. And the letter. Thank you.'
[Oh crap.] Hermione wasn't expecting this. [Crap crap crap.]
'Why didn't you write back?' she asked accusingly.
Percy sighed. 'To tell you the truth, I didn't know what to say.' He looked distinctly uncomfortable.
'A simple "thank you" would have sufficed,' she replied, unforgiving.
'I know and I'm sorry. I thought you knew how I felt...' His voice trailed off.
'No I didn't. That was the point of the letter. For me to find out how you felt,' Hermione said plainly, looking directly at him.
'You were the one who broke up with me remember. I thought you would be aware of how I felt from that,' Percy replied defensively.
[How do I reply to that?] Hermione racked her brain for some form of a reply, but upon finding none, simply muttered an almost inaudible 'Oh.' [Very articulate, Hermione.]
'So...' Percy said, taking a long nervous swallow of his beer. 'Where does that leave us?'
'I don't know,' Hermione replied truthfully. 'Do you still read the Daily Prophet?'
'Yes,' Percy replied, utterly confused. 'It provides for interesting tea room conversation at work.'
Hermione sighed. 'Then I think you've got your answer.' She gave him a sad smile and turned away, pushing her way through the crowd of females and pulled a flustered looking Oliver out of the door and back into Diagon Alley, her heart almost breaking in two.
'Let's get smashed,' she told him determinedly as he pulled his shirt back on. There were now a few rips and holes as a result of his encounter with the entire female population of the Dragon's Breath, as well as the stain. 'Here,' she said, muttering a quick spell that repaired his shirt. 'Good as new. Now let's go.' She grabbed his hand and marched him into The Leaky Cauldron, where she proceeded to order a double shot of tequila and spent the rest of the night flirting like mad with Oliver and getting extremely drunk.
*