A/N: I really have nothing to say here. I honestly don't, and that's a
problem, because I usually have some piece of random information that I
like to put right here. But I don't. All I can say is that this chapter was
stolen from me. I didn't intend on writing the little piece at the end, but
somehow or another, that's what my hand wrote out. Interesting isn't it?
But I think that it works.
Thanks for all of your reviews! Thelastsimaril: no little sisters. Please.
Disclaimer: The REAL Minister of Magic, J.K. Rowling owns it. I don't.
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The meeting ended on an uncheerful note. Harry felt no better than when he had first sat down. Now he knew what was the matter with Oliver. He just didn't know how to correct it. Ron, Hermione, himself, Fred and George sat down on the bed's in the twins' room. For a second they were silent, and then Ron spoke.
"Well, how was that supposed to help us?" he asked dully, staring at the floor. "I don't see where we can do anything."
"Your point being?" Fred asked Ron tartly. "AT least now we know what kind of trouble Oliver's in."
"No, I understand what Ron's saying," Hermione countered suddenly. 'It's true that we know what kind of trouble he's in. But does that really help us? Sure, we know where to start looking for him, but we can't really help him."
"Sure we can," George argued. "The Order's done some amazing things. Do you think that they can't find a big, bumbling buffoon like Wood?"
Herminoe wrinkled in nose in distaste. "Tell me, is there anything that you two DO take seriously?" she asked disdainfully.
Fred and George thought for a moment with serious expressions on their faces. And then they simultaneously smiled and shook their heads. "No," they said in unison, cracking identical mischievous grins.
Hermione sighed in frustration and pent-up anger. "Don't you two get it?" Fred and George automatically wiped their grins off their faces and stared in fear at Hermione. Her eyes were bright, and her face was red with rage and irritation at the twins. "Do you understand? Oliver is dying! Voldemort has him, and we can't find out where he is! And even if we do manage to find him, then how do you think that we're going to get him out?" Fred, George, Harry, and Ron stared in fear at Hermione. She had a small tear of anger coming out of her right eye. "Do you understand? Do you get it?"
There was a stunned silence after she had finished. Everyone had gotten used to Harry's frequent outbursts, but this was something else all together. Hermione was typically a quiet, gentle, bookworm. She was not prone to yell and rage. Harry, leaned forward, made a steeple with his fingers, and cleared his throat.
"Do you feel better getting that off your chest there Hermione?" Harry asked softly. Hermione looked around. She had a slightly flustered and guilty look.
"I'm a whole new person," Hermione said, pushing back her bushy hair behind her ear. She cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows. Fred, George, and Ron were still looking in terror at her. "Be that as it may I really don't feel that much better, and Oliver's still missing."
Angelina, Alicia and Katie came into the room. Katie sat on the floor and Fred made room on his bed for Angelina and Alicia. "What was all the shouting about?" Katie asked curiously.
Ron looked nervously at Hermione. "Ummm...Hermione got a little touchy," he said. Angelina noticed that Ron inched a little bit away from Herminoe after he said that. Herminoe coloured a little bit, but managed to meet the three Chaser's curious looks. Angelina shook her head. Fred narrowly missed being hit in the face by one of her long braids.
"What I'm curious about is this," Angelina said, nervously jiggling her foot. "How does the Order think that we can help? I mean, I can definitely understand Fred and George, they're part of the Order already. And I can even understand me and Alicia. We're of age, and know enough magic to be useful in a fight. But I don't understand why Harry, Ron, Hermione and Katie are here. They know of the Order, but Mrs. Weasley won't let them join."
"That's what I was saying before," Herminoe said, gleefully pointing at Angelina. "We can't really help to find him and rescue him. So why are we here?" Alicia bit her lip, tapped her toe on the floor, sighed, and then hesitantly spoke.
"I don't think that we're supposed to help find him or rescue him," she said, not making eye contact with anyone else in the room. "I think...I think we're supposed to help with what comes afterward."
The eight teenagers sat silently, pondering over this new thought.
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Harry and Ron were sitting in Ron's room later that night. Ron was idly scratching behind Pig's head. Harry was reading a page out of Flying With The Cannons. But Harry hadn't turned a page of the book for fifteen minutes. They were both caught up in their own thoughts.
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked finally. Ron started, and then looked at Harry.
"She said something about something that she had to write," Ron muttered. "Probably schoolwork. Mental," he sighed to himself.
"Speak of the devil," Harry said under his breath as Hermione burst into the room. He idly wondered whether or not Hermione ever knocked when entering a room.
"Harry, can I borrow Hedwig for a short time?" Hermione asked. She spoke in her normal voice, an excited pant.
"What for?" Harry asked in a bored tone. He was feeling tired. He had not slept well after his nightmare. He hadn't slept well in almost a year. He lazily turned to look at Hermione.
Was that his imagination, or did Hermione suddenly look uncomfortable? She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and swallowed. "It's nothing special," she stammered. "I just wanted to send a letter to my parents. You know, the Muggle postman doesn't come here so owl's the only way to get a letter delivered. My parents asked me to keep in touch with them. So I need to borrow Hedwig to send a letter to my parents." She paused, and then didn't talk. She silence soon became uncomfortable. Hermione looked at the floor and then back at Harry. "Look, Harry, if you don't want to let me borrow her, just say so," Herminoe finally said.
"No, no, you can borrow her," Harry said. 'I think that's she's on the perch in the kitchen." Hermione left and Harry turned back to Ron.
"What was that about?" Ron asked. He looked absolutely flabbergasted. "Who was that, and what have they done with Hermione?"
"I think she's a bit worked up, yeah," Harry said. Why did all the girls get worked up over Oliver? He'd always thought that Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and Hermione were reasonable people not given to foolish whims and fancies. Why did they always melt around Oliver Wood? But then again, he was older, and had an accent. Maybe it was the accent.
"I think it's the accent," Ron murmured.
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Hermione ran down the stairs. She burst into the kitchen and ran past Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Hedwig was sitting on a perch beside the sink. She irritably opened one eye at Hermione's noisy entrance and then slept again.
"Hermione, do you need anything?" Mr. Weasley asked as he took a mug of tea from his wife.
'I just came to get Hedwig," Hermione said, smiling a very bright smile and backing up towards the sink. She scooped up Hedwig, who gave an indignant hoot, and then backed up towards the stairs. "I'm just sending a letter to my parents," she called back to them as she ran up the stairs.
Mrs. Weasley took a long sip of tea. "She seems a bit wound up," she commented lightly to Mr. Weasley.
"Indeed Molly," he murmured as he sipped his own tea.
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Hermione walked into Ginny's room and locked the door behind her. She hated lying to people but she didn't think that Harry, Ron, or Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would approve of what she was doing. She sat Hedwig down on the desk. Hedwig ruffled her feathers and glared angrily at Hermione.
Hermione folded her letter and put it into the envelope. She sealed it and then picked up a quill to address the envelope. She hesitated, and then wrote the name on the parchment. "Mr. Percy Weasley,' she whispered as she wrote the name out. She tied the letter to Hedwig's leg.
"I need you to take this to Percy, all right?" she asked the snowy owl. Hedwig looked coolly at her, and then flapped out the window. "Thank you!" Hermione yelled after Hedwig. The owl was soon out of her sight. Hermione sighed and slumped into chair at the desk.
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Percy Weasley paced around his flat. It had been over a day since he had sent the letter off. he was plagued by unknowns. Had the letter reached Hermione? Did she open it, and decide to ignore it? Or did she draft a response? Was an owl going to fly into the apartment any second now?
He growled in irritation and fell back on his bed. He buried his face in the pillows and waited until it felt like he couldn't breath before he pulled his face out of the pillows. He lay spread-eagled on his bed and stared at the ceiling. The plaster lines swam through his vision. he massaged his temples and closed his eyes. He had a killer headache.
His headache tripled when he heard the loud pounding on his door. He groaned and rolled out of the bed. He stumbled to the door and wrenched it open. Penelope Clearwater was standing in front of him. Percy immediately straightened up. The back of his neck suddenly flamed with embarrassment. His apartment was not the cleanest place in the world, and most of the mess was visible from the doorway. And Percy was suddenly aware that his hair was uncombed, and that his clothes were wrinkled. It was not how he would have chosen to meet with his former girlfriend.
"Penelope," Percy said softly, running his fingers through his hair. He leaned against the doorway, trying to act casual. He folded his arms and looked at her. "How've you been?" he asked, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"I've been well, thank you," she said coolly. She lifted her chin definitely, and looked him in the eye. Her ginger coloured hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was not wearing her wizard robes. She was wearing a Muggle business suit and sensible black shoes. "How are you?"
"I can't complain," Percy said thickly. He nodded at her, and raised his eyebrows. "You look good," he told her.
"I wish that I could say the same thing for you," Penelope said, a hint of warmth creeping into her voice. "Percy, have you slept at all the past two weeks?"
"To be quite honest, I don't know," Percy said, running his hand over his forehead and down his face. "How're you doing?"
"I'm fine," she said. "As a matter of fact I was just promoted to the Assistant Manager at Flourish and Blotts."
'That's good," Percy stammered, at a loss of things to say. When they were going out, they could always find something to talk about. How come their conversations were so short and stilted when they were broken up? "Not to be rude, but why are you here?" Percy said bluntly.
"This might sound like a stupid reason for coming over, but I lent you some books seven months ago, and I need them back." She blushed and looked at the floor. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" she finally asked.
"Oh yeah. Come on in," he said, stepping backwards and holding the door open for her. She walked in, and immediately went for his bookshelf. She knelt down and removed four thick books from the bottom shelf. She stood up and staggered a little bit under the weight. She stumbled towards the door and stopped at the coat-rack.
"Percy, that's my scarf," she said, indicating a multi-coloured scarf that was hanging on a peg. Percy took it off of the coatrack. Penelope lifted her chin and he placed it on top of her books. She opened the door with her foot and walked into the hallway.
Percy followed her down the hallway and opened the door to the stairs. She walked past him without a word, and then turned to look at him. "It was good seeing you," she said with a small smile. Percy nodded without saying anything.
She went down the first set of stairs. Percy waited for a second before running down after her. She looked up at him curiously. "I've missed you," he said simply. Penelope gave him a sad smile, nodded, and walked down the smile. Percy waited for a few minutes until he heard the door below open and close.
He turned and walked slowly up the stairs. He opened the door and let it swing shut behind him. He slogged to his flat and stood at the door before entering. His flat seemed even emptier than it usually was. He breathed in deeply, wondering if he could catch a whiff of Penelope's perfume. It might still be lingering in the air. He caught a faint hint and smiled. feeling slightly better, he walked into his bedroom and fell asleep.
In the morning when Percy went out into his kitchen, Hedwig was sitting on the counter perch beside Hermes.
Thanks for all of your reviews! Thelastsimaril: no little sisters. Please.
Disclaimer: The REAL Minister of Magic, J.K. Rowling owns it. I don't.
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The meeting ended on an uncheerful note. Harry felt no better than when he had first sat down. Now he knew what was the matter with Oliver. He just didn't know how to correct it. Ron, Hermione, himself, Fred and George sat down on the bed's in the twins' room. For a second they were silent, and then Ron spoke.
"Well, how was that supposed to help us?" he asked dully, staring at the floor. "I don't see where we can do anything."
"Your point being?" Fred asked Ron tartly. "AT least now we know what kind of trouble Oliver's in."
"No, I understand what Ron's saying," Hermione countered suddenly. 'It's true that we know what kind of trouble he's in. But does that really help us? Sure, we know where to start looking for him, but we can't really help him."
"Sure we can," George argued. "The Order's done some amazing things. Do you think that they can't find a big, bumbling buffoon like Wood?"
Herminoe wrinkled in nose in distaste. "Tell me, is there anything that you two DO take seriously?" she asked disdainfully.
Fred and George thought for a moment with serious expressions on their faces. And then they simultaneously smiled and shook their heads. "No," they said in unison, cracking identical mischievous grins.
Hermione sighed in frustration and pent-up anger. "Don't you two get it?" Fred and George automatically wiped their grins off their faces and stared in fear at Hermione. Her eyes were bright, and her face was red with rage and irritation at the twins. "Do you understand? Oliver is dying! Voldemort has him, and we can't find out where he is! And even if we do manage to find him, then how do you think that we're going to get him out?" Fred, George, Harry, and Ron stared in fear at Hermione. She had a small tear of anger coming out of her right eye. "Do you understand? Do you get it?"
There was a stunned silence after she had finished. Everyone had gotten used to Harry's frequent outbursts, but this was something else all together. Hermione was typically a quiet, gentle, bookworm. She was not prone to yell and rage. Harry, leaned forward, made a steeple with his fingers, and cleared his throat.
"Do you feel better getting that off your chest there Hermione?" Harry asked softly. Hermione looked around. She had a slightly flustered and guilty look.
"I'm a whole new person," Hermione said, pushing back her bushy hair behind her ear. She cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows. Fred, George, and Ron were still looking in terror at her. "Be that as it may I really don't feel that much better, and Oliver's still missing."
Angelina, Alicia and Katie came into the room. Katie sat on the floor and Fred made room on his bed for Angelina and Alicia. "What was all the shouting about?" Katie asked curiously.
Ron looked nervously at Hermione. "Ummm...Hermione got a little touchy," he said. Angelina noticed that Ron inched a little bit away from Herminoe after he said that. Herminoe coloured a little bit, but managed to meet the three Chaser's curious looks. Angelina shook her head. Fred narrowly missed being hit in the face by one of her long braids.
"What I'm curious about is this," Angelina said, nervously jiggling her foot. "How does the Order think that we can help? I mean, I can definitely understand Fred and George, they're part of the Order already. And I can even understand me and Alicia. We're of age, and know enough magic to be useful in a fight. But I don't understand why Harry, Ron, Hermione and Katie are here. They know of the Order, but Mrs. Weasley won't let them join."
"That's what I was saying before," Herminoe said, gleefully pointing at Angelina. "We can't really help to find him and rescue him. So why are we here?" Alicia bit her lip, tapped her toe on the floor, sighed, and then hesitantly spoke.
"I don't think that we're supposed to help find him or rescue him," she said, not making eye contact with anyone else in the room. "I think...I think we're supposed to help with what comes afterward."
The eight teenagers sat silently, pondering over this new thought.
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Harry and Ron were sitting in Ron's room later that night. Ron was idly scratching behind Pig's head. Harry was reading a page out of Flying With The Cannons. But Harry hadn't turned a page of the book for fifteen minutes. They were both caught up in their own thoughts.
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked finally. Ron started, and then looked at Harry.
"She said something about something that she had to write," Ron muttered. "Probably schoolwork. Mental," he sighed to himself.
"Speak of the devil," Harry said under his breath as Hermione burst into the room. He idly wondered whether or not Hermione ever knocked when entering a room.
"Harry, can I borrow Hedwig for a short time?" Hermione asked. She spoke in her normal voice, an excited pant.
"What for?" Harry asked in a bored tone. He was feeling tired. He had not slept well after his nightmare. He hadn't slept well in almost a year. He lazily turned to look at Hermione.
Was that his imagination, or did Hermione suddenly look uncomfortable? She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and swallowed. "It's nothing special," she stammered. "I just wanted to send a letter to my parents. You know, the Muggle postman doesn't come here so owl's the only way to get a letter delivered. My parents asked me to keep in touch with them. So I need to borrow Hedwig to send a letter to my parents." She paused, and then didn't talk. She silence soon became uncomfortable. Hermione looked at the floor and then back at Harry. "Look, Harry, if you don't want to let me borrow her, just say so," Herminoe finally said.
"No, no, you can borrow her," Harry said. 'I think that's she's on the perch in the kitchen." Hermione left and Harry turned back to Ron.
"What was that about?" Ron asked. He looked absolutely flabbergasted. "Who was that, and what have they done with Hermione?"
"I think she's a bit worked up, yeah," Harry said. Why did all the girls get worked up over Oliver? He'd always thought that Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and Hermione were reasonable people not given to foolish whims and fancies. Why did they always melt around Oliver Wood? But then again, he was older, and had an accent. Maybe it was the accent.
"I think it's the accent," Ron murmured.
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Hermione ran down the stairs. She burst into the kitchen and ran past Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Hedwig was sitting on a perch beside the sink. She irritably opened one eye at Hermione's noisy entrance and then slept again.
"Hermione, do you need anything?" Mr. Weasley asked as he took a mug of tea from his wife.
'I just came to get Hedwig," Hermione said, smiling a very bright smile and backing up towards the sink. She scooped up Hedwig, who gave an indignant hoot, and then backed up towards the stairs. "I'm just sending a letter to my parents," she called back to them as she ran up the stairs.
Mrs. Weasley took a long sip of tea. "She seems a bit wound up," she commented lightly to Mr. Weasley.
"Indeed Molly," he murmured as he sipped his own tea.
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Hermione walked into Ginny's room and locked the door behind her. She hated lying to people but she didn't think that Harry, Ron, or Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would approve of what she was doing. She sat Hedwig down on the desk. Hedwig ruffled her feathers and glared angrily at Hermione.
Hermione folded her letter and put it into the envelope. She sealed it and then picked up a quill to address the envelope. She hesitated, and then wrote the name on the parchment. "Mr. Percy Weasley,' she whispered as she wrote the name out. She tied the letter to Hedwig's leg.
"I need you to take this to Percy, all right?" she asked the snowy owl. Hedwig looked coolly at her, and then flapped out the window. "Thank you!" Hermione yelled after Hedwig. The owl was soon out of her sight. Hermione sighed and slumped into chair at the desk.
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Percy Weasley paced around his flat. It had been over a day since he had sent the letter off. he was plagued by unknowns. Had the letter reached Hermione? Did she open it, and decide to ignore it? Or did she draft a response? Was an owl going to fly into the apartment any second now?
He growled in irritation and fell back on his bed. He buried his face in the pillows and waited until it felt like he couldn't breath before he pulled his face out of the pillows. He lay spread-eagled on his bed and stared at the ceiling. The plaster lines swam through his vision. he massaged his temples and closed his eyes. He had a killer headache.
His headache tripled when he heard the loud pounding on his door. He groaned and rolled out of the bed. He stumbled to the door and wrenched it open. Penelope Clearwater was standing in front of him. Percy immediately straightened up. The back of his neck suddenly flamed with embarrassment. His apartment was not the cleanest place in the world, and most of the mess was visible from the doorway. And Percy was suddenly aware that his hair was uncombed, and that his clothes were wrinkled. It was not how he would have chosen to meet with his former girlfriend.
"Penelope," Percy said softly, running his fingers through his hair. He leaned against the doorway, trying to act casual. He folded his arms and looked at her. "How've you been?" he asked, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"I've been well, thank you," she said coolly. She lifted her chin definitely, and looked him in the eye. Her ginger coloured hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was not wearing her wizard robes. She was wearing a Muggle business suit and sensible black shoes. "How are you?"
"I can't complain," Percy said thickly. He nodded at her, and raised his eyebrows. "You look good," he told her.
"I wish that I could say the same thing for you," Penelope said, a hint of warmth creeping into her voice. "Percy, have you slept at all the past two weeks?"
"To be quite honest, I don't know," Percy said, running his hand over his forehead and down his face. "How're you doing?"
"I'm fine," she said. "As a matter of fact I was just promoted to the Assistant Manager at Flourish and Blotts."
'That's good," Percy stammered, at a loss of things to say. When they were going out, they could always find something to talk about. How come their conversations were so short and stilted when they were broken up? "Not to be rude, but why are you here?" Percy said bluntly.
"This might sound like a stupid reason for coming over, but I lent you some books seven months ago, and I need them back." She blushed and looked at the floor. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" she finally asked.
"Oh yeah. Come on in," he said, stepping backwards and holding the door open for her. She walked in, and immediately went for his bookshelf. She knelt down and removed four thick books from the bottom shelf. She stood up and staggered a little bit under the weight. She stumbled towards the door and stopped at the coat-rack.
"Percy, that's my scarf," she said, indicating a multi-coloured scarf that was hanging on a peg. Percy took it off of the coatrack. Penelope lifted her chin and he placed it on top of her books. She opened the door with her foot and walked into the hallway.
Percy followed her down the hallway and opened the door to the stairs. She walked past him without a word, and then turned to look at him. "It was good seeing you," she said with a small smile. Percy nodded without saying anything.
She went down the first set of stairs. Percy waited for a second before running down after her. She looked up at him curiously. "I've missed you," he said simply. Penelope gave him a sad smile, nodded, and walked down the smile. Percy waited for a few minutes until he heard the door below open and close.
He turned and walked slowly up the stairs. He opened the door and let it swing shut behind him. He slogged to his flat and stood at the door before entering. His flat seemed even emptier than it usually was. He breathed in deeply, wondering if he could catch a whiff of Penelope's perfume. It might still be lingering in the air. He caught a faint hint and smiled. feeling slightly better, he walked into his bedroom and fell asleep.
In the morning when Percy went out into his kitchen, Hedwig was sitting on the counter perch beside Hermes.