Chapter Six
A/N: In reply to crazygonutz's review, no I am not English. I am American. I am, however fascinated with English terminology. I actually went to England over the summer and tried to soak up as much of it as I could. I do know that queue means to be in a line, but I could never figure out which way to spell cue. But now I know. Thank you! And thank you to Hogwartsherms for your lovely and kind review! And snappish79, thank you as well for your review. It's so nice to know my story is liked. I feel so loved! Enough of my incessant rambling, on with the story!
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, and if you think they do, than I think you need help.
The day of the first Hogsmade weekend dawned crisp and clear. The castle was a buzz with the happy chattering of all those third year and above. Discussions of what they were going to buy, and how many sweets they would eat, filled the students' conversations. Harry, Ron, and Hermione just finished up their breakfast and began to head out of the Hogwarts grounds.
"Harry, are you feeling well?" Hermione asked.
"I feel fine, why?" Harry returned.
"It's just that you're looking awfully pale."
"Yeah, and you've got bags 'round you eyes, mate." Ron added helpfully.
"Oh, well. . . erm. . . I didn't get a lot of sleep. Just, you know, one of those nights."
Hermione nodded and pressed the subject no further. She, however, did not believe that it had been 'just one of those nights'. The three of them pulled their cloaks around them tighter as a slight gust of wind picked up. Winter was definitely here.
"I think we need some butterbeers (one word or two guys?)." Ron said.
"You always think we need more food, Ron. Honestly, if you cared more about important things, other than your stomach. . ." Hermione launched into one of her world renown lectures about how nobody cared for anything anymore. And what was to become of Ron's life if he were to only think of his stomach. Harry had laughed out loud when Hermione suggested that Ron's highest possible job was that of apprentice to Filch if he did not shape up in his studies.
Soon the three of them were huddled around a table in the crowded Three Broomsticks. Looking at the occupied tables that surrounded them, it appeared that the rest of the school had taken to the idea of warming themselves with a butterbeer.
Harry spotted Cho Chang sitting at a table in the corner and chatting merrily away with one of her seventh year friends. He slunk down in his seat. All year Harry had yet to have a full conversation with Cho, and for that he was grateful. He was sure that when they did get around to having a conversation, it would be rather awkward. But to speak the truth, Harry wasn't really sure he wanted to talk to Cho at all. There was just too much that he didn't understand. Like why she had been crying over Cedric one minute, snogging him the next, and then running off.
Other than the going to the Yule Ball with Parvati Patil, and his very brief 'relationship' with Cho, Harry didn't really have a track record when it came to girls. They rather befuddled him, actually. It's not that he wished to know all the intricate workings of the female mind, but he would not say no to some advice as to how to deal with a crying girl. Or with one that had snogged him. Or both. There was no one really that Harry could talk to. The closest thing he had ever had to a father was Sirius, and he was gone. Certainly Harry could not speak to Ron on he subject, knowing full well that Ron's record with the girls of Hogwarts was next to nothing.
Harry tried hard to pay attention to what Hermione was saying, but it was rather difficult, as Cho kept glancing up whenever the door to the Three Broomsticks opened. Harry was sure she'd spot him.
Soon enough though, Harry's mind was on other things as he, Ron, and Hermione made their way over to Honeydukes.
"Do you think Hermione'd like these sugar quills?" he asked Ron as the two of them made their way down one of the rows of sweets, at a safe distance away from their female friend.
"Naw, she'd probably be disappointed that you couldn't use them to write with." (You can't write with sugar quills, can you?)
"You're probably right. . ."
"Of couse I'm right. I know you guys better than you know yourselves."
"Oh is that so?"
"It is so."
"What's so?" Hermione had walked over to the row they were standing by and joined hier conversation.
"Ron here says he knows us better than we know ourselves."
"Is that so?"
"He says it is."
"I see. . ."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron questioned.
"Well it's very hard for me to believe that you are attentive enough to know all the details of our lives, yet you need all of MY notes when it comes exam time."
Harry sniggered.
Ron looked at Hermione through narrowed eyes. "I do know you. And I'll prove it to you."
"How?"
"You'll see. . ." Ron thought for a moment. "You just wait until Christmas."
A half an hour later the three of them separated, agreeing to meet back at the center of town in an hour. Harry and Ron left for the Quidditch shop, and Hermione to Flourish and Blotts.
Harry was contemplating how to buy Ron's Christmas gift without him seeing, when Dean and Seamus walked in the door.
"Hey Harry!" Seamus greeted.
"Have you seen Neville?" Dean questioned.
Harry thought back. He wasn't sure he'd seen Neville in the past couple of days, let alone around Hogsmade. "No."
"Oh, all right then." Seamus looked as if he were about to leave when Harry spoke again.
"Would you mind helping me?"
"With what, mate?"
"You two go distract Ron. I've got to buy his Christmas present."
"Okay then, where is he?" Dean asked.
Harry looked around. In the time he had been talking to Dean and Seamus, Ron had disappeared. "He was right there a second ago."
"He probably hasn't gone far." Dean surmised. "If we see him we'll tell him to find you."
"All right." Dean and Seamus exited the shop and Harry, now devoid of Ron, bought his Christmas present and wandered out into the square. Knowing Ron he had probably run off in search of more food.
"That's just the thing!" Ron exclaimed happily to the shopkeeper behind the counter. "That's exactly it. . . er. . . how much do you think that'll cost me? You know what, it doesn't matter. It's bloody perfect. I'll take it."
Hermione meanwhile was happily rummaging through the bookshop, in search of anything and everything. She had just made to go buy her armful of books when she collided with something, or someone rather.
"Watch where you're going, Mudblood."
Hermione looked up from her new position on the floor and saw the face of Draco Malfoy hovering over her. "It's not like you were doing a particularly fine job keeping your path clear." she retorted. Hermione noticed that Malfoy was alone, a very rare occurrence. Thinking back to the chop she was in, it made perfect sense, she wasn't even sure Crabbe and Goyle could read.
"Where's Potty and Weasle?" Malfoy sneered.
"Not here, obviously." Hermione snapped, picking up her books.
"You know Granger, you really out to learn to control that tone of yours." Hermione straightened up and Malfoy took a step closer to her. "It's most unbecoming, and nearly as annoying as being a know it all."
Hermione fought the urge to say something that would have received applause from Ron and Harry.
"What? Cat's got your tongue now?"
Hermione stared coldly at him.
"Just watch your step Granger. You never know when it could be your last. . ."
"Ron, where've you been?" Harry questioned as he walked up to his friend, who was leaning nonchalantly against the side of a shop.
"Oh. . . well, you know. . . I was, buying Christmas presents."
"You should have told me, I would have gone with you."
"Oh, yeah. Sorry mate."
Just then Hermione stalked up to them, looking very flustered. "I can't stand him!"
"Can't stand who?" Harry asked.
"Malfoy!"
"What did he do to you?" Ron's face turned red with anger instantaneously.
"Nothing, Ron. I'm fine. He's just a great git is all."
"Well we know that." Harry attempted to lighten the mood, afraid that Ron might just spend the rest of their free afternoon hunting Draco Malfoy.
Luckily for Harry, he didn't have to take Ron's attention away from anything. The blasts and banging at the end of the street did that. . .
A/N: Ta da! I've gotten another chapter out that I wrote this morning! I hope it pleases. And as always, review!