To my dear and loyal reviewer; fan-rei, this is for you ;-)
And yes, this is just short and evil. Want the next chapter too? -evil smirk on Jellicos lips-
All my love to you wonderful people who continue to read and review my story! What would I do without you?
(well, probably not write this story)

Love, Jellicos

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Chapter Seven: The myth of the Scottish temper...

It was as if the students at Hogwarts had tripled over the night, at least judging by the excitement and chattering that went on all day. The fact that it was a Saturday and no lessons seemed to lighten the spirits of the students even more. Even though this ball was only for the seventh years and their dates (should they decide to ask someone younger), the rest of the students didn't seem much less enthusiastic. Some had already been asked, and others where still waiting and hoping.
Harry had been cornered every where he went for the past days by giggling younger girls asking him to take them to the ball. Even Ron had his fair share of admirers, as both boys where well known by now for their nack to -along with Hermione- save the world now and then, and neither had (as usual) been in time to find a date.
Parvati Patil seemed to have forgotten all about the dreadful ball during their fourth year, the one when Ron had ignored her all night and spent the evening cursing the name of Hermiones date, Viktor Krum. There was a gleam in her eye as she had cornered Ron before breakfast to ask him to the dance. Ten minutes later she'd walked away with a smug expression on her face, while Ron looked like he was about to faint. Never the less, there was a small grin on his face as well.
Harry had dreaded this for such a long time. He knew who he wanted to take to the ball, but he couldn't. First off, he had never had much luck when it came to balls... or girls for that matter. Second... she was off limits. He'd lingered on in his dormitory to think, but since it just proved to drive him mad, he decided on heading down to breakfast. She'd be going with that Ravenclaw chap anyway, so he might as well just agree to go with whom ever stopped him first on his way to the great hall. He didn't get far though as a female voice reached him from one of the red armchairs as he entered the Gryffindor common room.
"Oh, hi Harry." A cute seventh grader looked up at him with a courteous smile.
'Oh, no... Not Lavender!' Harry thought. The girl would drive him mad with her giggles. But he greeted her, if yet a bit coldly.
"Going down for breakfast?" She asked, her voice a bit bored.
"Yeah." He replied. "Aren't you coming?" Now why did he have to ask that! Now she'd follow him down! But to Harrys surprise Lavender just sighed.
"No, I'm just waiting for something." She said, avoiding the subject.
At these words, Harry looked at her for the first time and noticed that she had small band-aids on several places around her nose.
"What happened to you?" He asked.
Lavender looked as if she would sink into her chair.
"I.. I just had some...problems this morning." She quickly continued as Harry started to show his known paranoia. "Oh, it's nothing big! I'm just waiting for a delivery from Hogsmede that should set it right." But Harry still looked suspicious, and as it was not an alternative for Lavender to tell a boy she'd gotten sits on the day of the big ball, she tried to distract his attention. She knew this boy to well to know that he had every reason to get worried over the simplest things.
"Did you hear about Ginny and Terry Boot?" Lavender tried. Gossip was her subject. As Harry gave her a bewildered look, she continued. "They broke up last night. Can you imagine! Just the day before the ball!" But Harry hadn't heard that last part, but ran as fast as he could through the portrait hole. At the bottom of the stairs he saw Ron, just gliding down the past few steps. Harry didn't care any more, he had to risk it. This was a sign, it had to be! Still running, he grabbed Rons arms, just stopping in time as to not knock them both over.
"Ron! Don't hate me, but I'm asking your sister to the ball." He blurted out before he actually knew what he was saying. He was expecting a tantrum, or at least a serious scolding from his friend, but Ron just looked at him for moment, as if appraising him.
"Fine." He said at last. "Just don't step on her toes, you're not the best dancer mate."
Harry looked at Ron as if he wasn't sure just what to believe. But one glance and they understood each other. So Harry ran off into the great hall to find Ginny.

Hermione watched as her friend ran past her and up to Ginny Weasly, sitting a few seats away. She smiled as the scene became clear to her. 'So he finally had the guts to ask her' she thought with a smile. She knew what Ginnys answer would be. The girls'd had long discussions over the years about Ginnys crush on Harry. She didn't think her friend would have been that thick headed though, but now he'd finally got it.
Hermione took a look around the hall that had started to fill by now and by the looks and whispers, it was no secret to anyone who she herself was going with, and that was precisely how she wanted it. The great hall seemed to fill even more with whispers and giggles as she and Neville sat there. Now and then, Hermione glanced up, pretending to be looking for the post owl, but instead her eye wandered to the empty chair that was usually occupied by Professor McGonagall. She felt a pinch in her chest, but thought quietly about the evening to come, when her plan would be set into action.
Neville had noticed Hermiones glances and patted her on the back.
"She'll be here tonight." He said softly and she rewarded him with a faint smile. She knew his mind was on the same track, as his eyes darted up towards the head table as well.
The moment of silent understanding between them was broken by a herd of post owls scooping down into the great hall. Hermione looked up as a large brown owl landed at the table in front of her, knocking her pumpkin juice over. The bird was carrying a small package wrapped in brown paper and Hermione hurried to relieve the hooting owl of its burden. A very neat and fashionable label on the package revealed its contents as beauty products, but she stuffed it quickly inside her robes and turned to Neville.
"You go off to the dormitories and I'll meet you at the prefect bathroom." Hermione whispered to to him and he just nodded and dashed away.

She hadn't got the nerves to attend breakfast along with her colleagues and students this morning. The impulse to turn Neville Longbottom into a puffy pink pillow was too strong, and she was sure that seeing him sitting close to Hermione, laughing and whispering during breakfast could very well send her off that edge.
But there was the ball to think about. She knew she'd have to attend, and she knew that her two gryffindors would be there, dancing together. But she'd just have to deal with it, wouldn't she? She was Minerva McGonagall for Merlins sake! The strict headmistress of Hogwarts, the respected head of Gryffindor House, and well known around the country for her battles against the dark arts. She was known for her grace and emotionless intelligence, only showing that Scottish temper of hers in severe cases of rule breaking, evil or simply bad mannered students.
But as it was, she was now feeling the verge of insanity pulling at her.
It was just ridiculously, pure and simple. She didn't care what Albus had said that night. It had been overlooked when she'd had her relationship with Lily. She didn't know why exactly, but she reckoned Albus had something to do with it. But no matter what he'd said, Minerva knew he wasn't thrilled about the idea of another professor/student relationship. And with everything else going on, the You-Know-Who regaining power, the Order fighting for their lives, people dying and security measures being taken to the extreme. She was no longer a young woman, she had to face that. Hermione had done as Minerva had wanted, she'd found someone better. Though for the first time she wasn't sure about her star pupils judgement. She could have had anyone she wanted, and she chose Longbottom? Just the name was enough to send waves of rage down her body. He was the one who got to spend the days with her, touching that soft, milky skin, feeling her bushy brown hair between his fingers, look into the depth of her hazel eyes and taste those soft, intoxicating- No! No, no, no, no! She had to calm herself! This would not do! 'As long as I don't see him I cannot blast his head of his chubby little shoulders' she thought furiously.

She'd have the rest of the day to cool down. To find reason again and detach herself from these emotions of hers. And she was better at persuading herself not to go ballistic as she walked the hallways of the castle. She was after all a woman of logic and reason, was she not? And this was simply a matter of mind over b- But there Minerva stopped in her tracks. She had not been observing her surroundings as she walked, but there was no denying the scene that flashed before her now.
It took her mind a split second to register the two people attempting to sneak in to the prefect bathroom together, as Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom. But once it did, all thoughts of logic where gone. In fact all was gone from her mind except the roaring madness and fury that flamed up inside her. Before she even knew what she'd done, McGonagall had plunged forward, her eyes flashing red as she'd drawn her wand and sent a bright green light flashing through the corridor, sending Neville Longbottom crashing through the hallway.
She didn't realise what she'd just done until she saw his limp body thrown against the wall and falling to the floor, lifeless and dripping blood.

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To Death of the Endless : I'm not writing the next chapter until I get my cookies:-)