Chapter Five:
Weasleys, Wizardry, and Wood Pulp"Ron," Hermione smiled as she came back to the table, "I realize that I've entirely overreacted to the whole… pixie thing. I mean, it's a book… and though that book did…," she looked away for a moment, "mean a lot to me, I am willing to forgive you because," she smiled serenely, "our relationship means a lot to me too."
Ron nodded—not nearly as serenely—and shoveled another spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. "Tanks," he mumbled.
Now I really want to be De-lusted, Hermione thought with a slight frown on her face. The frown quickly returned to a smile as she turned back to Ron: "That note was really sweet, and, um, I was wondering if you could come with me… for a moment."
"OH," said Ron, leaping out of his chair, mashed potatoes still in his mouth. "I fink I'm about ta get snogged, mate. See ya after dinner?" he whispered to Harry, and Harry nodded, no longer feeling very hungry.
Ron followed Hermione to the Gryffindor Common Room, where all his books were sitting in a neat stack, his quills on top of them. "I'd like you to take that foul spell off of your quill."
---
"No snogging!" complained Ron the next morning. "Not even the tiniest little snog! I ask you, Harry, what's the point of having a girlfriend if you don't get a little post-dinner snogging every once in a while? And pre-breakfast snogging—what about that?"
"I could talk to Hermione and convince her that you're dying for a cuddle," Harry suggested less-than-seriously.
"Oh, would you, mate?" asked Ron quite seriously. "I'd be able to concentrate so much better, I'm sure—I haven't been able to sleep at all!"
"Maybe she's still mad at you," Harry said. "You never know—maybe you should give her a present or something, just in case she still is."
"No more reading Pansy Parkinson's nasty Skankspeare books, though, right? Those things were so bad— they guy couldn't spell. Everything they said was so dull: Thou hast a dog who crappeth on thy shoe."
Harry laughed, "We've got Care of Magical Creatures now."
"Good; a class that I'm not failing," Ron said, picking up his books, de-hexed quills, and rushing out the door with Harry alongside him. The class was being held where it had been held for the past year since Hagrid had been reinstated as Care of Magical Creatures Teacher: out on the grounds by his hut.
"Don't get too excited yet, Ron: it's another class we've got with Malfoy and those gits," Harry said.
"Ugh," Ron shuddered. "I bet that slimy prat will be late to class again today—too busy styling his hair. Ever notice how in the morning, Malfoy looks like he's got an overgrown ferret eating the lice off his head?"
Hermione stepped up beside him. "Jarvey. You mean he looks like he's got a Jarvey eating the lice off his head."
Ron goggled before realizing that, yes, Hermione really was there. "Why d'you do that—it's bloody scary. You just up and pop out of nowhere!"
Hermione made no response and Harry tried to break the uncomfortable silence. "Aren't we studying demiguises today? That should be interesting."
Hermione looked up from her copy of Hairy Snout, Human Heart, to look at Harry. "Demiguises? You're kidding me—handling demiguises requires specialist knowledge, and besides that, how on earth would Hogwarts get hold of a demiguise: they're practically impossible to catch."
"Maybe we're just reading about them," suggested Harry, and then, grinning, "and that'll really depress Hagrid."
Hermione smiled. "If we are though, it'll be a real treat to actually see one—they're invisible most of the time. Oh, I hope you are right; they'll be so much more interesting than Bowtruckles."
"Most things are more interesting than Bowtruckles," Ron commented as the rest of the class appeared. He leaned in and whispered to Harry, "Hermione is right—he does look like's he's got a Jarvey on his head. How much d'you want to bet that the only reason he's not failing Divination is because that thing tells him what to put in his essays? 'Hogwash!' and 'Oh! That's right—I think I'll put a whole lot of hogwash in my essay! Thanks, Harvey the Jarvey!'"
"And the only reason you've been passing Divination is because of your quill, isn't it?" remarked Hermione as she passed them.
Ron sneered as Harry said, "She's definitely mad at you."
"Why? What've I done?"
"She's probably mad you used that quill to write all that—the love note, you know? I think you should talk to her," Harry suggested as he opened his book.
"Talk to her? Oh, no, mate—don't you know how dangerous that would be? I'd rather be eaten by a… a…," he glanced at his book, "an Erkling."
"You do know those are three feet tall, right?" laughed Harry, quickly turning to page 24 to read about Kneazles until Hagrid showed up.
"Ah, Potty and Weasel," a voice hissed—Malfoy's. "Trying to figure out which one of those animals is less attractive than you? You'll want to try a different book." Crabbe and Goyle, who stood behind him, snickered.
Harry turned around. "Well, you're an animal, right? Or does that thing growing under your nose count as separate creature?"
"For your information, Potty," Malfoy said, turning around to make sure Crabbe and Goyle were laughing, "I'm growing a mustache."
Ron grinned, "Then you were right, Harry. It is a separate creature."
Harry was happy to see Hagrid arrive at last, lugging a large cage with a cloak cast over it behind him. This entrance was marked by loud whispers: "What's that?" "What's going on?" "Why is it in a cage?"
Malfoy was the first one to speak as usual. "I know what it is—it's probably Hagrid's girlfriend or something—what else would be that huge?"
Hermione at last jumped in to the conversation, unable to concentrate on Chapter Six of Hairy Snout, Human Heart any longer. "Let me see: your ego, your dye-job, that enormous mole above your mouth that you're calling a mustache—the list goes on and on." Several Gryffindors clapped as others whispered "Great girl Harry's got there" while Ron glared.
"Settle down, settle down," Hagrid called out. When nobody responded, the Slytherins kept snarling, and the Gryffindors kept clapping, Hagrid yelled, "I SAID SETTLE DOWN!" The class snapped into silence, Hagrid resumed. "There. Now, what I 'ave with me today is a demiguise. I've worked a long time getting it to trust me, so don't go frightening it, 'cause it'll disappear if you do that."
Hermione instantly raised her hand. "Hagrid, how did the school get hold of a demiguise—they're very rare and hard to catch, aren't they?"
"Actually this demiguise was sleeping when a bunch of Muggles found it—they were out… er… camping, you see," Hagrid explained.
"Dumb Muggles," Ron muttered, shaking his head while Hermione shot him a look.
"It had to be moved from its, er, habitat, so we're taking care of it until the Ministry o' Magic's Department for the, er, Regulation and Control o' Magical Creatures comes and picks it up," Hagrid explained.
Hermione nodded her head in understanding and the lesson began. While Hagrid discussed proper treatment of demiguises, Hermione wondered over her list. She'd managed to snatch the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans out of Crookshank's mouth and Ginny had gotten the violin string—even if she had gotten it from a member of the staff—and now the next item on the list was "wood pulp of love note." There was one love note she knew of for certain, but where was it? Did Harry have it or did Ron have it? And then her mind skipped ahead to the other items on the list—the demiguise hairs—how on earth was she supposed to get those? Demiguises were docile creatures, yes, but all the same, they were invisible most of the time, and this demiguise would be on its way to the Ministry of Magic any day now. As if Hagrid would just let her open the cage, grab some tweezers, and be done with it.
"Hermione? Hermione, are you there? Class is over."
Hermione looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry. Right."
Ron shook his head, "I don't know what's wrong with the world. Hermione wasn't paying attention in class? Never thought I'd see the day!"
---
That day at dinner, Hermione was lurking in the hallway when she ran into Ginny. "What're you doing? Aren't you hungry?"
"I just need something from Harry's room, that's all," Hermione explained. At Ginny's quizzical face, she further explained: "For the potion, Ginny—please cover for me."
"Sure thing, Hermione," Ginny agreed, nodding, and continued on her way to the Great Hall, leaving Hermione to get into the dorm room.
Hermione stared at the portrait for a while and then remembered what Ron had been muttering at breakfast. "Fizzing Whizbees," she said happily, and the door swung open.
"If I were Harry/Ron, where would I hide a love note?" thought Hermione, surveying the room. She checked all of Ron's shoes. Next she rifled through his closet, all unsuccessfully. Then, with a deep sigh, she crossed over to Harry's side of the room, checking all his clothing (blushing when she uncovered his boxers) and looking through all his schoolbooks. Finally she just plopped down on his bed, resigned. "Ouch!"
Under Harry's covers was a copy of Romeo and Juliet. Hermione picked it up and out fell the love note.
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