The Characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright violation is intended. No profit is being made off this site. It is for entertainment purposes only.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm very sorry for the delay! I have a very good reason, though. This chapter required quite a lot of research on my part. I always research the characters and such to make sure that I get everything right, but when creating a completely new character... WHEW! I had to research the culture of Australia! I have included a glossary of terms at the bottom of this chapter. BUT! I recommend reading the chapter first, and experiencing the confusion of slang along with Ron and the gang! You'll see what I mean... BTW if there are any Aussies reading this, please be gentle! I'm very sorry if I have incorrectly used the language in any way. And, I am not meaning to stereotype or offend anyone! I think Aussies are awesome! That's why I tried to create one... Lol ... Anyway! Enjoy!
Chapter 30
Hermione woke early Monday morning. Too early…but she couldn't go back to sleep. Her eyes had just flown open and as soon as they had, the thought, 'We're going to tell Harry,' sprang into her mind. Before she could even think something along the lines of, 'I'm hungry,' or 'I need to go to the loo,' she was thinking about the confrontation with Harry. And now, as she laid in bed, she seemed to be having trouble even blinking…there was no way she would be able to go back to sleep.
Lavender and Parvati were still snoozing, and it was far too early to expect a "call" from Ron through the mirror. Well, Hermione thought, sounds like shower time. So, Hermione left for the shower room, and once there, she decided to linger. The hot water seemed to relax her a bit; maybe waking up early was a good thing. This way she had plenty of time to prepare herself for the revealing of the truth to Harry. Plenty of time…Actually, time seemed to be going by rather quickly this morning. By the time Hermione exited the shower room, dressed, and dried her hair, there was less than an hour remaining before she expected her "call." Why was time passing so quickly? She wasn't ready, was she? And what did she even think she could do to prepare herself? This wasn't something you could study for!
Hermione decided to read over her assignments from last term to occupy her brain; she could use some memory jogging, anyway. When Hermione entered the dormitory, Lavender and Parvati had just awoken to begin scurrying about the room, as usual. Rummaging through each other's make-up and hair accessories, trying to be as pretty as possible for the day. It was tiring to watch. But, Hermione wasn't supposed to be watching; she was supposed to be reviewing… It was impossible.
The words seemed to blur together and overlap. 'The three fate groups of Arithmancy are the heart number, the personality number, and the life number…are the heart number, the personality number...' Wait…she'd already read that. 'The heart number involves the vowels of one's name as divided by…divided by…the heart number involves the vowels…' Hermione sighed heavily as the words continued to blur and the conversation going on in the dormitory became much clearer.
"So he really is an Aussie?" Lavender asked excitedly as she applied some sort of gel to her hair.
"Yes, Lavvy!" Parvati exclaimed. "And he's twenty-one…and available!" Hermione's eyes involuntarily rolled into the back of her skull, and she had to shake her head slightly to right them. Were they really only excited about the new teacher because he was young and single? Pathetic! Just stare at your paper; the words will un-blur. She told herself. They didn't.
"He'll like you more." Lavender said with a playful scowl at her friend. "You're so exotic. Black hair, black eyes…"
Parvati shrugged. "Green eyes are exotic."
"Really?" Lavender asked in a high-pitched hopeful voice. Parvati nodded sweetly at her friend. They then, fortunately, finished their morning preparations in near silence.
As soon as they had left the dormitory, Hermione literally jumped off of her bed and slid over to her satchel, which was sitting atop her trunk. She quickly removed the small, square mirror. When Ron had tested the mirrors over the holiday, a dim blue light had appeared in the glass. Yet, her reflection was the only thing in the glass at the moment.
Hermione sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed. Assuming Harry accepted the news of she and Ron dating, she would have a boyfriend in less than an hour. Less than an hour! She'd obviously never had a boyfriend. Whenever she wanted to embrace Ron or kiss his soft lips…she could! But…once they weren't hiding anything anymore, Hermione wondered if she would even want to exhibit public displays of affection with Ron. Especially in front of Harry… The thought seemed absolutely bizarre. Then there was always the chance Harry would hate the idea, and then…holy cricket!…life would be so awkward for the three of them!
And…What kind of girlfriend would she be? Lavender and Parvati were always talking about boys. Seamus has lovely eyes. Dean is so tall and handsome. Roger Davies is positively dreamy. They never spoke of Harry or Ron whenever Hermione was around, but she was sure that they had discussed her friends' appearances at one time or another. Would fellow, female students expect her to talk about Ron in that way? Ron has beautiful blue eyes that speak to my soul. His red hair sets my heart to flame. His body…. NO! There was no way she could talk about him in that way…with anybody!
Hermione suddenly heard a soft buzzing sound. Looking down she saw her reflection becoming blurry in a pool of blue light. Oh no! She wasn't ready! The blur was fading…
"Hermione?" Ron asked. His freckled face was staring back at her with a furrowed brow. She smiled down at him.
"Hi." She said quietly. He smiled broadly at her.
"Ready?"
"Yes." Hermione replied as she nodded, and then with a sigh she said, "I'll be right there." Ron nodded at her, still smiling broadly.
Hermione stood from her bed and placed the mirror back inside her satchel with her schoolbooks. Well, here goes nothing. Hermione thought. Ron definitely looked ready. He looked completely calm and collected. So why was the blood in her legs gradually turning to metal as she descended the stairs? Hermione began taking deep breaths. Everything would be fine. Harry would be accepting. Ron would, obviously, be a great boyfriend. And she…she would do her best.
There seemed to be more steps than usual leading to the sixth year boys' dormitory, but Hermione finally made it to the door. Taking one last deep breath, Hermione pushed the door open.
"HA!"
Hermione jumped slightly as she came face to face with Harry, who was, for some unknown reason, pointing at her and smiling broadly. Ginny and Ron were in the room as well, but they were sitting on Ron's bed. Ron was very scarlet and wore an apologetic grin, while Ginny was bouncing up and down slightly on the edge of the bed.
"Um…" Hermione began looking from one to the other. "Harry, what-…"
"Hermione," Ron began, "Uh…you know how Harry is really good at solving mysteries and whatnot?" Hermione just stared at him. What was he talking about? Hermione's addled brain still hadn't recovered from Harry's, 'Ha!'
"Hermione," Harry began, approaching her and putting an arm around her shoulders, his other hand was behind his back. "There's something that I've been saving for you. I didn't know if I would ever get the chance to give it to you, but…well…happy start-of-term!"
Harry then pulled his hand out from behind him and placed something in Hermione's palm. Hermione was just staring at Harry with utter confusion. Happy start-of-term? She looked down slowly and opened her hand to see…well, what did she see?
"Harry, what is this?" She asked, turning the small piece of plastic over in her hand. Suddenly Harry and Ginny started laughing, although, Ron's face just turned an even deeper crimson. Looking back down at the object in her hand, she asked, "Is this an…arm?"
Harry laughed a bit louder before saying, "Our fourth year, I found that on the floor in here, and I've kept it all this time. You know, on the belief that my suspicions might prove true one day… Do you know what it is?"
Hermione simply shook her head. She was actually growing a bit impatient with this game; they weren't going to have time to tell Harry anything if he didn't finish up this silly game involving small plastic arms!
Ginny answered suddenly, "That happens to be a small piece of a dismembered Vicky Krum. Ron had a doll of-…"
"Action figure." Ron interjected, before looking back down at his hands to pick at his thumbnail.
"Oh, pardon me." Ginny said airily, "Ron had an action figure of Krum, but after old Vicky began fancying you, Hermione, that bit of plastic was found on the floor by Harry. Odd coincidence, isn't it?"
A smile slowly spread over Hermione's face as she looked from Harry to Ginny to Ron. She suddenly had a mental image of Ron tearing up his action figure and throwing it across the room. It was quite humorous.
"Hermione," Ron began, looking up at her with that apologetic smile again, "Harry sort of figured out our secret after you left for your dormitory last night."
Hermione's heart promptly jumped into her throat to beat a few times before rolling over and dropping back down into her chest. She felt her face go extremely warm as she looked up at Harry, who definitely looked accepting. He actually looked very happy! Without a bit of warning, tears began stinging her eyes, and when she blinked hard to hold them back, they only fell stubbornly down her cheeks.
"Don't cry, Hermione!" Harry said with a hint of a laugh behind his voice, "So, you fancy Ron! Everyone has something to be ashamed of!"
A strangled giggle burst forth as she flung her arms around Harry's neck. He hugged her back tightly, and whispered in her ear, "I think it's brilliant, Hermione." She might have held on all day, but Harry pried her fingers from his neck, and then with both of her hands in his, he dragged her over to Ron, where he released her hands. Ron was smiling up at her kindly.
"Go ahead, mate." Harry said, slapping Ron on the back, "When they spring a leak like that, you've got to…you know!"
Ron chuckled at his friend before standing up to quickly wrap his arms around her. Hermione breathed in his wonderful clean, yet earthy scent. She hadn't been able to do this in the last couple of days. Ron kissed her lightly on the top of her head, but when Hermione opened her eyes to see what Harry's response would be, she saw that he and Ginny were already in their own embrace. She looked up at Ron then and smiled broadly.
"Well, that's definitely not an angry look, is it?" He said with a bright smile, his arms still around her.
"Why should I be angry?" She asked disbelievingly. Angry? She was thrilled with the turnout of this morning's confrontation with Harry!
He shrugged and said, "We didn't get to tell him together."
"It doesn't matter. He knows, and he's…happy. I don't have a care in the world right now." She whispered truthfully. Ron let out a deep sigh before cupping her face and leaning down to kiss her gently on each eyelid. It almost made her want to cry again…almost. But instead, she laid her head upon his chest and embraced him. He was so warm…his chest so soft, yet hard…his scent so…
"Ahem."
Hermione was rudely brought back to reality, and she quickly pulled away from her…boyfriend…to look toward the source of the disturbance. Harry and Ginny were both standing at the doorway with smug grins. Harry was actually shaking his head slightly with a look that said, 'this is too weird…' Hermione didn't mind the look though; she felt the same way, and it wasn't a bad feeling. Just exciting…stepping into the unknown, armed with her two favorite men, and her, sort of, sister. A huge weight lifted from Hermione's heart, only to be replaced with wings.
"Oh, look! Here come the owls!"
Ron was staring at Hermione with a stupid smile on his face as she pointed up at the ceiling of the Great Hall. The owls were descending among the students, but he wasn't paying much attention to that.He was allowed to stare at Hermione now! It was wonderful. What was also wonderful, was the minimum amount of space in between them on the bench. He was holding one of her precious hands in his and resting it on his knee under the table. They had even walked into the Great Hall holding hands! He had noticed a few people turn their heads as they had made their way to the Gryffindor table. By the end of the day, everyone at Hogwarts would have surely heard about the newest couple in the school. Some bloke had finally managed to steal Hermione Granger's heart…and it was he!
Harry was on the opposite side of the table with his and Ginny's satchels on the bench separating them. Ron felt bad for his best mate. He knew too well what Harry must have been feeling right then. Extreme restlessness caused by a strong desire to reach out and touch the woman you love. However, Ron's happiness at being Hermione's …boyfriend… was overshadowing all other emotions. Plus, Harry didn't look too displeased with the distance between him and Ginny at the moment. Though, he did keep looking at Ron every ten or so minutes and shaking his head in slight disbelief.
"Hmm. Look at this." Hermione said suddenly. She had already retrieved her paper and laid it out on the table between the four of them; she then began reading aloud,
Minister Bones' Surprising Approach to Better Informing the Community
The new Minister of Magic, Amelia Bones, has decided to place a weekly article in the Daily Prophet to inform the Wizarding Community of the Ministry's plans, goals, and actions. This new column will be entitled, Between the Lines.
Prophet reporter, Natalie Pry, was able to obtain a comment from Minister Bones, "I feel that the Wizarding Community has not been as informed as needed. We are in a war. If the Ministry attempts to run from this fact, are we on the path to peace? I think not." Bones replied.
The first article of Between the Lines will appear in the Prophet next Monday.
Hermione leaned back from the paper with a satisfied grin, "Ginny, I think you were right."
"About what?" Ginny asked still peering over the upside down article.
"Madam Bones will do a better job than Fudge." Hermione said matter-of-factly, "She's going to be risking the possibility of a lot of ridicule from the Community by printing the Ministry's objectives in the post. She's giving everyone free reign to accept or denounce her progress as Minister. Fudge would have never done that."
"You know, I've never really thought about it," Ron began with a sudden revelation, "But Fudge never really told us anything, did he? I mean, he always gave vague answers like, 'We're doing all we can,' or 'The Ministry won't stop until all Death Eaters are behind bars."
"Yeah," Harry replied, "Exactly what is 'all we can?' Or, the Ministry 'won't stop' what?"
Ron was suddenly reminded of the snippet of conversation he overheard Mad-Eye and his father having yesterday morning. The Minister of Magic, who seemed to have her head on straight, had basically ordered his parents to stay in hiding. That was more than a bit unnerving. But, Ron reminded himself, at least they were safe behind the walls of Grimmauld Place. The Fidelius Charm would keep them safe.
Once they had finished their breakfast, Ron, Hermione, and Harry made the trek down the stone steps to the dungeon while Ginny departed for her morning class. Ron had a scowl on his face as he made the descent…Potions…he definitely hadn't missed this class. He wasn't sure what he dreaded most about the upcoming hour. Snape, Malfoy, or the undoubtedly difficult lesson followed by an assigned essay.
Harry was walking a bit ahead of Ron and Hermione as they entered the damp, chilly classroom. Ron was holding Hermione's hand extra tight as they made their way to their table. Holding her hand was such a wonderful feeling. Ron felt as if it connected them in a deeper way than merely palm-to-palm.
Malfoy and Pansy were already seated with Crabbe and Goyle on either side of them. They looked like two, skinny rats lodged in between two, ugly swine. Ron unfortunately made eye contact with Malfoy, and he noticed his grey eyes dart down to his and Hermione's clasped hands. He then looked back up at Ron with a disgusted sneer. Ron felt an angry pulse begin to beat in his chest. He could guess what Malfoy was thinking with that look of disgust. Removing his satchel from his shoulder, Ron looked away and took his seat on one side of Hermione while Harry sat on her other.
"Hey…remember that day you held my hand under the desk?" Hermione whispered suddenly, looking up at him with an endearing smile. Ron had to force a smile of his own. He knew Hermione was simply remembering the comforting gesture, but that memory held much more for Ron. That was the day Malfoy had made that horrible comment to Hermione. The comment that was even more disturbing now…'You'll probably be dead before I get the chance to get your boyfriend alone.'
Ron grabbed her hand with his, "I remember." Their gazes locked.
"Mother says Uncle Rodolphus left everything to Aunt Bella."
Ron stiffened as he heard Malfoy's drawling voice. He was sure that he was purposefully speaking loudly enough for him, Hermione, and Harry to hear. Talking about two Death Eaters casually as 'Uncle and Aunt!' Of course, everyone at Hogwarts knew that his own father was a Death Eater, so what did it matter if he spoke of his other foul family members?
"Did you inherit nothing, Draco?" Pansy said almost soothingly, as if Malfoy needed an inheritance.
"Well, there was one thing that I was to inherit," Malfoy said conversationally, "But, oddly enough…it seems to have gone…missing." He stressed this last word as if it held some special meaning. Ron glanced over at Hermione and Harry. Harry had his jaw set, but was obviously listening from the tilt of his head. Hermione's knees were now bobbing up and down. Ron placed their clasped hands on her knee, which stopped the bouncing abruptly. She smiled weakly at him, but before he could return the smile, Malfoy said one last thing.
"It was a ring of my Aunt Bella's that my uncle wore. Don't know where it could've gone to."
Slam!
Hermione jumped slightly, but Ron merely turned and made eye contact with Harry as Snape glided to the front of the classroom, wearing his usual dark, black robes. An unspoken query passed between Ron and his best friend. Did Malfoy know that Harry had the ring from Rodolphus? How could he know that? As Ron looked to the front of the room at Snape, he noticed that there was a bubbling cauldron atop Snape's desk and a rather unpleasant odor filling the room. Somehow Snape's presence seemed to make the smell more pungent.
Snape placed his hands on his desk on either side of the cauldron, before taking a deep breath and briefly closing his eyes. Did he actually enjoy that odor? "Would anyone like to take a guess as to what potion this cauldron contains?" Snape asked in his deep, cold voice.
Hermione's free hand immediately shot into the air. Ron had to twist his mouth to prevent a smile. Snape took his time looking about the room, but Hermione's was the only raised hand. With a sneer, his eyes fell on her.
"Miss Granger?" He asked, sounding annoyed. Hermione's hand promptly dropped to her lap.
"That is an Inflammatory Confusion Potion. Also known as, Demon's Oil, it is a potent concoction that, once ingested, will cause one's enemies to fight each other instead of oneself." She stated as if she were reading straight from a textbook. How did she do that? Ron squeezed her hand slightly in an attempt to tell her, 'good job.' She squeezed back gently.
"Correct. Because the potion requires the seed of Dragon Capsicum fruit, it burns quite horribly when consumed. Thus, it is rarely used among wizards and witches of today." Snape replied blandly. "Can anyone tell me what is causing the sweet odor of the Demon's Oil?"
Sweet? Ron thought, more like… revolting. Again Hermione's hand flew up from her lap. This time Snape merely waved an impatient hand in her direction as a motion for her to give her answer. He apparently knew that no one else would have the adequate knowledge. Ron felt a strong surge of pride in Hermione as he held her hand.
"The sweet smell comes from the essential oil of the Patchouli plant. More specifically, the steam distillation of the dried leaves of the plant." Hermione replied promptly.
"Correct again, Miss Granger." Snape said with a sneer, "Spoken like a walking and talking textbook."
Pansy Parkinson let out a shrill giggle that caused an unwelcome shiver to run down Ron's spine. Hermione's face fell slightly, and Ron squeezed her hand a bit tighter as he also heard some chuckles from Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle that caused his mouth to disobey his rationality.
"And you would know since you're a walking and talking set of bollocks, right?" Ron replied coolly, looking straight at Snape. As soon as the words came out of his mouth he felt immensely better and worse at the same time. Hermione and Harry both turned to stare at him with wide eyes. In fact, the whole classdid.
"Weasley, you insolent little-…!" Snape snarled in a low hiss, coming around to stand directly in front of Ron's seat. Hermione now had a deathgrip on his hand. Ron just glared atSnape as hespat, "I'm afraid you may be becoming as arrogant as your famous friend. Detention…with me…Wednesday, after the evening meal." Snape then straightened up to his full height with a horribly ugly glower before whipping around and stalking back to his desk.
"Since when are teachers allowed to stick students in detention for stating the obvious…professor?" Harry replied calmly. Hermione groaned, released Ron's hand, and placed her head in her hands. Snape's pale face somehow lost more color as he glared at Harry with the purest loathing.
"Potter! Couldn't stand having the spotlight on someone else, could you?" Snape hissed, "Well, you can join Weasley in detention this Wednesday. And fifty points each from Gryffindor." Harry merely shrugged before leaning down to retrieve his textbook from his satchel. Snape's eyes went wide for a moment before he turned harshly toward the blackboard to display the ingredients of the potion with a wave of his wand.
Over the next hour, Ron had trouble concentrating on much of anything. Everyone had to break off into partners. Hermione insisted that Ron continue to partner with Harry since 'that's the way it's been ever since our first year.' So, she partnered with Neville. Harry seemed to be distracted too because every few minutes, Hermione would whisper something like, 'Ron! Harry! No, no, no! It's two dashes of Guinea Pepper Grains, not three!' or 'Psst! What are you two doing? Don't add that, yet! You haven't diluted your bat blood solution properly!'
By the end of the period, Ron and Harry's Demon's Oil did not resemble Hermione's deep black potion in the least. Actually, their potion looked a lot like orange juice. Nonetheless, they bottled a sample of it and handed it in. Ron ignored the mocking smile Snape gave them when he saw their potion.
Hermione didn't hold Ron's hand on the way to Charms. She was much too busy talking with her hands in exaggerated movements as she reprimanded him for getting a detention on the first day in their first class for the use of vulgar language. But, after each longwinded scolding, she would grab hold of his arm and say something like, 'Now I know you were only standing up for me, and I really do appreciate it, Ronald. But…' And then the reprimand would start again. Ron just continued to nod at her every few seconds while Harry seemed a bit distracted and possibly worried. He doubted Harry was that upset over getting a detention… Was he still thinking about Malfoy's comment on the ring?
In Charms, Flitwick reviewed the spells that they had learned last term. He then walked about the room checking on everyone individually as they practiced. This gave Ron a good opportunity to talk freely to Harry and Hermione.
"Harry," Ron began tentatively, "What's bothering you, mate? You seem…"
"Distracted." Hermione said, looking at Harry worriedly. Ron nodded in agreement. Harry made a face that resembled the look of someone who had just taken a whiff of dragon dung.
"I don't know," He began darkly, "Something just sort of hit me today in Potions. I've never really thought of it before."
"What is it?" Hermione prompted as she absently moved her wand about, causing a pillow to disappear and reappear on the desk.
Harry sighed, "Snape absolutely hates me." He stated evenly. Ron was a bit taken off guard. Okay, maybe this doesn't have to do with Malfoy, he thought.
"Uh…mate?" Ron began slowly, "You've never thought of that before? It seems sort of obvious to me, I mean-…"
"No, I wasn't finished." Harry replied impatiently, "Do you two remember what Snape said last term? When I followed him and Sinistra to Dumbledore's office the day of the Hogsmeade attack?"
Ron and Hermione both nodded. Harry continued, "Well, I've just been wondering… What if Snape only wants to keep me alive and well, so that I can kill off Voldemort for him?"
Hermione furrowed her brow and her waving hand ceased in mid-air, "But Harry, what do you mean kill Voldemort…for him?" She asked quietly.
"If he truly is a reformed Death Eater, then he'll never be able to rest easy until Voldemort snuffs it." Harry said evenly. "If Voldemort ever found out that Snape were a spy for Dumbledore, he would kill him…after torturing him. Plus, I'm sure Snape doesn't especially enjoy living the life of a spy."
"So, you mean," Ron began, "If Snape truly believes that you are the one destined to kill You-Know-Who, then he…needs you, in order to…well, to go free, I guess?"
"Yeah." Harry stated glumly.
"I don't know, Harry." Hermione began questioningly, "Dumbledore seems to think that-…"
"Dumbledore has made mistakes in the past, Hermione." Harry said harshly; it made Ron cringe, although he agreed with Harry. Ron had never been convinced of Snape's trustworthiness despite Dumbledore's claims. Hermione simply turned from Harry and began vanishing her pillow again.
"Well, even if Snape does just want to keep you around so that you can get rid of his old master, the important thing is he wants you alive, right?" Ron asked. Harry merely shrugged and started performing some sort of summoning charm. With a small sigh, Ron turned in his seat to think of some charm to perform. He would've liked to ask Harry what he thought about Malfoy's comment, but Harry seemed to be through with conversation for the time being. So, Ron merely turned in his seat to join his friends in practice.
McGonagall wasted no time with review, as Flitwick had. Hermione was pleased when McGonagall immediately introduced a difficult new spell, which would transfigure objects into keys. Apparently, with this spell, you could hold the object up to any keyhole and state the incantation, Patefacius. At which time, the object would then become an appropriately shaped key for the lock. Although this spell could sometimes work on locks unaffected by attempts at Alohomora, there were still enchantments and charms that could be placed on locks to disable the Transfigured keys from working properly.
The class was instructed to practice throughout the entire hour by turning spoons into keys for small, locked jewelry boxes. Hermione was able to correctly perform the spell after two attempts, but Ron was having a bit of trouble.
After many tries he had only managed to turn his jewelry box into a large wooden key; the spoon remained a spoon. He looked adorable as he wrinkled his brow in concentration, but Hermione knew that he truly wasn't concentrating properly. She was sure that he was thinking about something else as he repeated the incantation over and over. Ron just simply did not seem to care for or see a need in Transfiguration.
Hermione, on the other hand, thought the subject matter to be very potentially helpful. For instance, last year at the Department of Mysteries there had been locked doors. Harry had fortunately had that knife from Sirius, but if he hadn't, Patefacius might have come in handy.
But, even though Hermione appreciated the class and had managed to correctly perform the spell, her heart really wasn't in it either. She was thinking of other things. Malfoy's comment in Potions class, for instance... Hermione had a fairly good idea as to how he might know that the ring was in Harry's possession. Lucius Malfoy was probably at the attack, in which Rodolphus was killed. He probably saw Mundungus take the ring before he fled. After which, Mr. Malfoy probably came up with the mere idea that the ring might end up in Harry's possession. His son was probably just mouthing off at the slight chance of upsetting Harry.
Then there was Harry's theory on Snape. Hermione just couldn't shake the feeling that Dumbledore was correct in his assessment of their Potions Master. Dumbledore trusted Snape! Of course, Snape was a nasty, foul buffoon, but that didn't mean he was evil. It just meant that he sometimes did awfully unfair things like calling her a walking and talking textbook and then giving Ron detention for standing up for her.
Suddenly, an awful sound interrupted Hermione's disjointed thoughts. It was a series of horribly conflicting notes. Hermione looked to her side and saw that Harry's jewelry box had been transformed into a music box…most likely the work of a mispronounced incantation.
McGonagall quickly crossed the room to stand before Harry, where she uttered a counterspell. The room instantly returned to silence. Ron, still unsuccessful in making a key, sat his spoon down and addressed McGonagall.
"Professor?" He asked timidly.
"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall asked crisply. She still looked a bit frazzled from Harry's unexpected music.
Ron cleared his throat before speaking, "I was wondering if you might give the Gryffindor team permission to practice after four PM on the pitch…three nights each week?" Hermione closed her eyes and sighed softly. Did Ron not know? Professor McGonagall's classroom during her class period was not the time or place for questions concerning Quidditch.
"Mr. Weasley, do you think that you and Mr. Potter might transfigure proper keys if you were less concerned with Quidditch and more concerned with the task I've set for you this hour?" She snapped. Ron turned a bright shade of red.
"Yes, Professor." He stated glumly. Hermione shook her head at him slightly, but then McGonagall turned to her.
"And Miss Granger," She began in the same tone, causing Hermione's heart to quicken in apprehension, "Although you have managed to correctly perform the Patefacius spell, I don't recall giving you permission to take the rest of the hour off."
Hermione's mouth fell open slightly, but she was struck completely dumb. Ron and Harry's eyes had both gone round. McGonagall had never reprimanded her over her performance in class. But, Hermione realized that she had merely been monitoring Ron and Harry's progress and had been consumed in her own thoughts without continuing to practice the spell. McGonagall had surely noticed Hermione simply sitting there, staring into space. Nevertheless, the displeased note in McGonagall's voice was much more unharmonious to Hermione's ears than the noise from Harry's music box. As McGonagall resumed her walking about the room, Hermione picked up another spoon and began the incantation again, however, she was having a bit of trouble concentrating due to a disturbance occurring on either side of her.
"So, when's our next match?" Harry murmured to Ron under his breath.
"Mid-February." Ron replied between a couple of fake coughs.
"Hufflepuff?" Harry 'sneezed.'
"Ble-yes you." Ron murmured in response.
Sighing heavily, Hermione sat her spoon down hard on the tabletop. "Do you two mind?" She whispered impatiently. Harry rolled his eyes at her and picked up a spoon. Ron, however, elbowed her softly in the side and mouthed, 'sorry,' before looking back down at his own spoon, which was still not a key, but was now slightly bent and discolored from his many failed attempts at the spell.
Hermione suddenly felt a bit guilty for snapping at him. She didn't feel too badly for snapping at Harry because he had simply rolled his eyes at her, but Ron actually looked ashamed and despondent. Making sure that McGonagall was not watching, Hermione said a quick incantation over her spoon, which began molding into swirled, silver letters. She then placed the 'spoon' on Ron's thigh.
He glanced up from his own spoon to raise one eyebrow at her before picking up her token, which now formed the phrase, 'Key To My Heart.' Hermione knew it was incredibly cheesy and childish, but it did the job. Ron looked up at her slowly with a poorly concealed grin. A smile was all she had wanted, and if she could get one from a tacky cliché, so be it. Ron then gave her one of his winks, which immediately made Hermione forget McGonagall's reprimand, and, as always, caused her heart to flutter.
"Finally." Harry said as the three of them took their seats at the front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Yes, Ron thought, finally… They were finally just minutes away from meeting their new teacher, who would hopefully have something in knowledge or skill to offer them. Lupin had been the only Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher of which Ron and Harry had actually approved. Death Eaters disguised as good teachers by means of Polyjuice Potions didn't count. Of course, Hermione had also initially approved of Professor Lockhart due to his…charm?
"Oh, fabulous." Hermione said with sarcasm. Ron turned to see that Malfoy and his cronies had just entered the room. This term, the Gryffindors would be sharing this class with, none other than, the Slytherins.
"It's been so long since I've practiced defensive spellwork." Ron said to Hermione with a sly smile, "I might accidentally hit him with a curse during class."
"Ron…" Hermione said warningly. He smiled at her as Harry chuckled, but Hermione actually looked quite serious.
As he continued to smile at her, he considered asking her if she remembered her promise to him. She promised to try her hardest in this class. However, Ron didn't think that she needed reminding. Hermione looked very nervous. Not only were her knees bobbing up and down, but she was twirling a strand of hair around her finger at an alarming speed. He was sure that she was anticipating how well she would perform in this class. Ron was in the process of reaching a hand to her when the door creaked open.
Every one of the students turned their curious eyes toward the doorway. This was it, Ron thought, this guy better be good… When Ron's eyes fell on the figure standing in the doorway, however, he was almost certain that a seventh-year boy had simply forgotten his schedule andentered the wrong room. But…wait…was that a Hogwart's…name-badge? None of the teachers wore name-badges. But then again, none of the teachers…or students…looked at all like Edgar Whitman.
Turning to Hermione as their new teacher walked…no…strutted to the front of the room, Ron leaned over and whispered low near Hermione's ear, "I thought you said he'd have graduated his Auror training?"
"I did." She whispered back, "But I also said that he had gone straight to Auror training after graduating from the Kilmore School of Magic. He's only five years your senior, Ron."
Ron just continued to stare at Hermione, as she turned to face forward and sit up straight. Five years his senior? Dumbledore had hired a kid to teach them now that the second war was underway? Ron could not fathom being a certified Auror, teaching a class full of sixteen and seventeen-year-olds at the age of twenty-one. Slowly turning in his seat to face the teacher, Ron just gaped at him.
He was just standing there looking around at them all. And, Ron thought, with an unexpected sick feeling, he was an extremely good-looking, young black man. Ron reckoned the dark-skinned man to be about six foot-five inches in height. That was at least three inches taller than Ron. His black head was almost entirely bald, with a mere sprinkling of coarse, brown hair. He was donning a black leather jacket and a pair of dark blue denims that looked a little worse for wear.
Of course, the jeans, which seemed to be sparsely spattered with paint and frayed along many of the seams, somehow went sportingly over his thick, black work boots. His simple black t-shirt had a logo of a heavy metal rock band, which Ron recognized as a group that Bill used to listen to. His mum referred to them as, 'foul-mouthed scallywags.' … The Thrashing Thestrals. Over his t-shirt, yet underneath the jacket, he wore a red and black, checked flannel shirt that was unbuttoned down the front. The flannel shirttail was visibly hanging out beneath his jacket.
Glancing at Harry, Ron saw that he was looking at Whitman with a calculating look, yet there was a semblance of a smile barely visible amidst his scrutinizing stare. Hermione, on the other hand, looked a bit frightened and was avidly biting at one of her fingernails. Ron heard a girlish giggle from behind them and he turned in his seat to see Lavender and Parvati whispering excitedly. Oh great, Ron thought…
Clap!
Ron quickly turned back around in his seat to see Whitman smiling broadly with perfectly straight, white teeth; he had his hands clasped, apparently the source of the noise. All whispering immediately died away. His smile caused his eyes to squint at the corners and Ron noticed that his eyes were a very light, golden brown color.
"G'day, young ducks 'n' drakes! My name is Edgar Whitman." He said with a surprisingly loud and cheerful voice and a distinct Australian accent. "Lovely arvo, innit?"
The students' silence remained. Ron was tempted to stick one finger in his ear to make sure that there was no cotton ball or wad of gum lodged in, preventing him from hearing properly. He was almost certain that this guy was speaking in English, yet…Ron hadn't understood a word!
Whitman raised his eyebrows with a slightly discouraged look. "Well…youse a bit sooky, aren't ya?" He asked with another bright smile. When no one responded, he cleared his throat, but his smile remained as he continued.
"Ah well! I'm mighty chuffed to be here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Although, some of you may think only a yobbo of an Auror would take a teaching job right after training, eh?" He said happily before his smile abruptly faded to a set-jawed serious expression, "Well, it's nothing to do with big bickies, I'll tell you that! When Albus Dumbledore contacted me and told me the caliber of teachers you lot have suffered through in this class, it made me right ropeable! I knew that youse might as well give it away if someone didn't fang it and train you up a bit. But I'll warn ya, I'm gonna put you through some hard yakka. Like your pommy polly said in the Daily Prophet, we are in a war! It's not just here, either. It's everywhere. Even Down Under in the big smoke of Melbourne!"
Whitman's stern expression faded just as quickly as it had come to again be replaced with his bright smile. He then chuckled softly, "Here I am havin' a yack with myself when you lot are dancin' in your underdaks to have a go at some of that hard yakka, eh?"
A few people laughed politely, yet timidly. Ron realized that he was gaping at Whitman with his mouth open, so he closed it quickly. Whitman trudged on, "First, I'll need to explain to youse how I plan to run things." He took a deep breath before continuing with that serious look, "I want us to study perfection of marksmanship. If you find yourself up a gum tree and surrounded by those Death Birds, you might as well squib out of the barney if you can't aim properly!"
Ron realized that he was absently nodding his head in agreement as Whitman continued to speak. The only problem was, Ron didn't know what he was agreeing to. He was actually becoming a bit worried. Whitman was talking very animatedly with that stern expression and his hands were moving about in front of him. So, whatever he was saying must be important, right?
Ron didn't have time to answer himself because a shot of red light flew over his head and burst upon an empty glass jar on a shelf in the back of the room. A few people gasped, a couple screamed. The jar had been just barely above the head of Neville, who was seated in the very back of the classroom. Neville's eyes went wide and he was looking back and forth between the broken glass on the floor and the teacher, who had his wand pointed to the back of the classroom.
"You see?" Whitman said excitedly, "Now, what if he had been a mangy maggot of Voldemort's, eh?" His eyes went wide and he looked around the room, but he then smiled back toward the back of the room, "What's your name, chap?"
There was a short pause and then an apprehensive, "Neville Longbottom."
"Longbottom, eh?" Whitman said with interest, "Bonzer! You know I missed on purpose, right?" He added with a smile.
"Sure." Neville said, but he didn't sound too sure to Ron. Whitman chuckled slightly.
"Oh, yes. Back to how I'm going to run things," Whitman began with a slight frown, "I understand youse are learning Healing?"
There were some mumbles of agreement among the class, and a look of pure relief passed over Whitman's face, "Bonzer! We can X out first aid!" And then with a smile he said, "Between you and me, mateys…first aid's not really my bowl of rice."
He paused briefly, but then nearly bellowed, "STREWTH! What more?" Which caused a few people, including Ron and Hermione, to jump slightly. Ron glanced over at Harry, who was just looking at Whitman with a tiny smile.
"Oh yes!" Whitman began again; he was now weaving his wand rapidly between his fingers as he spoke, "I reckon some of you blokes will like this…not so sure of the sheilas. Hand-to-hand combat! Believe me, if you find yourself wandless, she'll be apples if you can pack a mean punch."
Hand-to-hand combat? Ron couldn't stop himself from smiling and turning around to peer at Malfoy, who looked a bit peaked. Now hand-to-hand combat…Ron could get into that. For the first time in his life, Ron would be very tempted to request that Malfoy be his partner.
"And last but not least…defensive magic, of course." Whitman stated casually, "You know, spells, charms, enchantments…So, any questions, mates?"
He peered around the room with his eyebrows slightly raised as everyone remained still and silent. After a few seconds, however, Lavender raised her hand. Whitman smiled brightly at her, "Yes, Miss? The lil' sheila in the back there."
"Hi." Lavender began, "My name is Lavender Brown, and I was just curious about something. What are The Thrashing Thestrals?"
Whitman suddenly clutched at his chest and gasped in mock-exasperation. It briefly reminded Ron of Fred or George and quite a few people laughed. "What are the…! Strewth, Miss…First, you mean 'who' are The Thrashing Thestrals. Second, they happen to be a rock band that I barrack for. Their mascot is one of them flyin' biggie, black gee-gees you pommies have over that Forbidden Bush. I pondered asking that Hagrid bloke if I could have a squizz at one, but I squibbed." He chuckled then.
"Oh…um…neat." Lavender said with a forced laugh.
"Neat, eh?" Whitman said before shrugging, "I reckon."
"If you value your limbs," Said a sneering and condescending voice, "I would stay away from… 'that Hagrid bloke."
Ron turned in his seat to glare at Malfoy, who had just spoken unexpectedly from his table at the back of the room. Malfoy had obviously just mocked Whitman's accent in front of the entire class when he had repeated, 'that Hagrid bloke.' How would Whitman take that? Ron wondered.
Whitman's expression was unreadable. He was now staring back at Malfoy, but he simply looked as if he were reading over a boring poster on the wall.
"And your name is?" Whitman asked casually.
"Malfoy." Malfoy sneered. "Draco Malfoy."
"Malfoy, eh?" Whitman said; Ron thought he saw his eyes squint slightly, but not as they did when he was smiling. "Well, that's good oil for me, innit? Hmm…no stickybeaking in my bizzo, alright?"
"No…what? Your…what?" Malfoy asked rudely, "I don't understand that talk."
"Fair dinkum?" Whitman said cheerily; Ron didn't understand this, but he wondered if it were an insult, "Well, I can tell that you're not the full quid. But I'll try and explain. My limbs are my bizzo."
Ron turned to see how Malfoy was reacting to this comment. Malfoy was glaring at Whitman with a look that resembled disgust, but there was still a bit of confusion mixed in with his expression. Whitman then quickly looked away from Malfoy and clapped his hands together, smiling brightly once more, "Well, mates, since today is just a sort of introduction to the class, I say everyone should state their name and chosen career path. Who wants to have the first go?"
No one spoke or raised their hand, and Whitman rolled his eyes slightly, "The boss cocky gave me a list of all my students anyway. I'll call your names out or will never nick off…" He said, reaching into a satchel atop the desk and retrieving a white piece of parchment, "Brown, Lavender." He stated before looking up and nodding in Lavender's direction, "Alright, I've met you, but what's your chosen career?"
"Well," Lavender began excitedly, "I have chosen Muggle Studies."
"Ah!" Whitman said with interest, "That's pretty spiffy! Muggles need to be studied, especially now, eh?" Without waiting for a response, he looked back down at his paper and continued, "Crabbe, Vincent?"
Ron heard a low grunt from the back of the room that he guessed to be Crabbe's response, followed by, "Education." Ron almost gave a snort of laughter, but he covered it up with a cough. Education? Maybe Crabbe thought the question was 'what do you need' instead of 'what do you plan to do'… Glancing over at Harry, Ron saw that his friend was holding a balled fist to his mouth. Hermione nudged them both in their sides.
"Holy dooley! Is that right?" Whitman replied pleasantly, "Good onya.."
As Whitman continued down the list with, 'Finnigan, Seamus,' Ron began fazing out. He used the time to try and digest his thoughts of this new teacher. Did he like him? Well, what was there not to like? He was laidback, seemingly intelligent and prepared for a productive term, and he had insulted Malfoy. At least, Ron thought he had. He really wasn't sure, but Whitman's response to Malfoy's comment didn't seem to be said in a pleasant tone. Harry seemed to like him, as he continued to look at him with an accepting, amiable expression. Hermione had been looking at Whitman with a furrowed brow the entire time, as if thoroughly scrutinizing his every word. Which, Ron thought, she probably was. So, why was it that he didn't know what to think of the guy?
"Granger, Hermione?"
Ron snapped out of his daze as Hermione raised her hand timidly before placing it back in her lap and replying, "I'm Hermione Granger. And…I plan to graduate on the Administrative path."
"Administration, eh?" Whitman said with a bright smile, "I bet your ant's pants, aren't ya?" When Hermione didn't respond beyond a, 'I…uh…uh,' Whitman added, "I can already tell that you'd make a good fist as a sheila in the Ministry." He then gave her a small wink before looking back down at his list of students.
Hermione blushed slightly and looked down at her hands in her lap. Ron immediately felt a very unpleasant burning sensation deep in his stomach. Why was she blushing? Was it that wink? She better not have enjoyed that wink! What was a teacher doing winking at a student, anyway? Was Hermione flattered by the smooth talk Whitman had used that Ron didn't even understand, exactly? Make a good fist? Ant's pants? They sounded like comments a perv would say to a young girl. Or am I just overreacting? Ron thought. He hadn't realized that he was fazing out again until he heard…
"Potter, Harry?"
Whitman abruptly looked to Ron before Harry had time to respond, "Harry sounds like a name for a bluey. You're Harry, right?"
"Um…no. Actually, he's Harry…." Ron said pointing his thumb in Harry's direction. That was a first. Ron was fairly sure he had never met anyone that couldn't pick out Harry from a group of students. And he was positive that no one had ever suspected him to be Harry!
Whitman looked to Harry as if he'd only just noticed there was a student in that particular seat. "Ah! Right then. Career?" He asked casually.
"Auror. Field Agent." Harry replied.
"Auror? Dinkum?" Whitman exclaimed excitedly, "Bonzer, Hazza! Half your luck, half your luck!" He then took out his wand from the inside of his leather jacket and waved it in the air to create a bit of confetti, which fell slowly in a colorful arch before disappearing.
"Right." Whitman said, still smiling, "Thomas, Dean?"
"Yes, sir. Here." Dean said raising one hand, "Auror. Field Agent."
"Another one?" Whitman cried, creating more confetti. "Bonzer, matey! Half your luck, as well!"
"And now there's…Weasley, Ronald?"
Ron raised his hand, suddenly feeling a bit nervous, "Um…Auror, as well. Logistics."
"The bluey, too?" Whitman exclaimed; more confetti, "Bonzer, mate! Half your luck! Half your luck!"
Ron smiled and nodded, his face flaming. Curse his blushing tendencies! Oh well, that wasn't so bad. Whitman continued down his list, but Ron was too busy thinking about Hermione's recent blushing tendency. This was ridiculous! Ron had, until now, been nervous over whether or not Whitman would meet the par, but now he was nervous over whether or not the bloke had flattered Hermione. It was just that Ron delighted himself in causing Hermione to blush, and he didn't like it so much when someone else was the cause for her lovely rouge cheeks.
After Whitman commented on Ron's career choice, he read off one other name before he concluded the class period with a simple wave, and something that sounded like, "Hooroo!" Some of the things this new teacher said were quite interesting. Hermione had turned to Ron to smile at him after this last exclamation, but Ron had simply given her a very weak grin before standing from his seat to collect his satchel. What was his problem? Hermione stood and turned for the door, as well, but Harry slowly approached the teacher's desk. Hermione and Ron exchanged slightly perplexed expressions as they waited.
"Sir?" Harry said quietly. Whitman looked up from his own satchel with a confused expression before he chuckled slightly.
"Ah, Hazza. Call me Edgar or Whitman." He said lightly, "Sir or professor…it's just too wacky."
"Er…alright." Harry replied awkwardly, "Well then…Edgar, I was actually just wondering…is my name…well, that is…is it not known among Australians?"
A small smile formed on Whitman's face, "Why d'ya ask, mate?"
"Well," Harry began slowly, "In all honesty, if it's not well-known, I might like to live there one day."
Whitman chuckled heartily at this before sighing. "Sorry, mate. But I'm afraid you're known everywhere. I just reckoned you might like to give a gobful to the people that are always takin' a Captain at your forehead. And…well…I didn't rightly want to be one of those people." He finished with a shrug.
"Oh." Harry said, obviously a bit taken aback at this response. "Well…thanks."
"No worries, Hazza." Whitman replied with a wave of his hand, "See you in a couple, alright?"
"Yeah…see ya." Harry replied with a smile. He then turned and joined Hermione and Ron to walk down to lunch.
The rest of the afternoon and evening, between lunch and the evening meal, consisted of studying in the common room. Well, Hermione studied at least. She wanted to refresh her memory on her N.E.W.T. classes' material. However, Ron and Harry talked about Quidditch and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Hermione had joined in on the discussion of the latter long enough to offer her opinion on Edgar Whitman.
Harry seemed to really like him, Ron was undecided, and Hermione had said that she thought he seemed mature, yet casual and capable, yet not overly cocky. Harry had agreed ardently, but Ron hadn't really said much more than, 'Yeah…maybe.' Hermione guessed the class was just very important to Ron, and he expected a lot of whomever the teacher might be. It was good that he took the class so seriously, but she hoped he would make the most out of what Whitman had to offer. Harry, of course, would be resuming his lessons with Dumbledore and Lupin, but Ron and Hermione would only have Whitman to further their understanding of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Despite her concerns and worries, at the end of the day, Hermione thought it had been a pretty good start of the term. Despite Snape's arrogance, Malfoy's shiftiness and insolence, McGonagall's disconcerting disapproval, and Ron and Harry's detentions, it was a fairly good day. Wasn't it? Hermione had to stop and ask herself, why was it a fairly good day? A lot of negative things had happened. But she quickly remembered…She and Ron weren't hiding anymore. Throughout all of those things, he had been beside her, openly holding her hand or smiling at her. Plus, Harry was happy about this fact. And this made Hermione happy.
Of course, happy was not synonymous with satisfied. Because, Hermione was not satisfied. After she had said goodnight to Ron in the common room with a brief goodnight kiss, she had been left longing. She hadn't really been able to have a nice private snog with Ron in days! Hermione and Ron could snog openly like some couples did, but this idea disgusted Hermione. For Hermione, those moments with Ron were private.
Maybe the longing for a snog made her no better than a scarlet woman or a randy teenager, but she didn't care at the moment! And…when Ginny came to the sixth year girls' dormitory to tell Hermione that she and Harry were taking the invisibility cloak to one of the secret passages, Hermione decided to call Ron on their mirrors. It wouldn't be fair for Ginny and Harry to have a romantic evening and she and Ron simply retreat to their beds early after one kiss.
"Ron." Hermione whispered to the mirror as she sat on her bed concealed by her curtains. Lavender was down in the common room with Seamus, Dean, and Neville last Hermione checked, but Parvati was already in bed. Hermione stuck her head out of the curtains to check that Parvati was still, in fact, snoozing. She was.
"Hermione?"
Hermione jumped slightly as she quickly ducked back inside her curtains. "Ron?" She breathed.
"Is everything alright?" He asked hastily; his brow furrowed and his blue eyes concerned.
"Fine." She said quickly. "But…I…I miss you." Hermione bit her lip after this comment as she realized that she'd never actually said that to anyone before. A broad grin spread across his face.
"Well, do you know what?" He asked.
"What?"
"I happen to be having a bit of trouble going to sleep at the moment…and I also happen to be missing you, as well. I'm not sure, but I think the two are related."
Hermione smiled brightly into the mirror before quickly shoving it under her pillow, grabbing her nightrobe, and heading for the boys' stairwell. She was wearing cotton pajamas with long sleeves and pants, but she still liked to wear her terrycloth robe in front of Ron's dorm mates.
Seamus, Dean, and Neville were still in the common room, along with Lavender and a few other students. So, Ron would have the dormitory to himself. Hermione hurried to the boys' stairwell with her robe closed tightly about her. She got halfway up the stairs when she almost collided with someone.
After looking up slowly from a rathr painful gasp of fright, Hermione saw Ron holding his side and very plainly laughing at her. She then playfully slapped him on the arm to which he responded by unexpectedly grabbing her around the waist and hoisting her up over his shoulder.
"Ron!" She whispered urgently. Screaming would have been better suited for the situation, but she didn't want to wake any of the younger boys. Ron then began ascending the stairs. Reaching down with one hand, Hermione attempted to tickle him on his ribs by squeezing hard. It worked! He gasped loudly and gripped her a bit tighter.
He clearly hadn't been expecting it, and his abrupt jerk almost made Hermione scream out loud. She contained it, however, and managed to tickle him again. And again, he gasped, but this time he stopped his ascent of the stairs long enough to lower her back to solid ground. Just as she tried to grab for his ribs again, he caught both of her wrists with his hands and then pinned her hands behind her back with one of his strong arms. Her body was pressed firmly against his.
"You're ticklish." She stated with a smug smile as she looked up at him.
"And you weren't supposed to find that out." He replied with a chuckle. She giggled at him.
"Might I have my hands back?" She asked.
"Do you have the notion to tickle me with them?" He asked playfully.
"Maybe." She stated plainly, and then feeling somewhat fiesty she added, "But if you're too chicken to risk it..."
Ron immediately released his firm hold on her and took one step back. Hermione actually did have every intention of tickling him again. It was quite fun. But as she stood back smiling up at him, she felt that familiar tug. His gaze was pulling her in, and when that happened there was only one thing she could think to do…
Hermione all but jumped into Ron's arms, throwing her arms around his neck as she kissed him hard on the mouth. He lifted her off of the ground as he returned her kiss. She was pressed against him; one of his arms was around her back while the other was just beneath her bum. Immediately after each separate kiss, either her or Ron would begin another one by relocking their lips. Her head was a complete shambles. She didn't even realize until Ron's back collided with the door to his dormitory that he was slowly backing up the stairs as their kisses continued.
The door opened as he leaned against it, and they were then inside the semi-dark, secluded dormitory. Hermine kicked the door shut as Ron backed all the way up against the edge of his bed where he then lowered her feet slowly to the ground. As she was lowered, his lips left hers to warmly graze up the side of her face and finally come to rest on her forehead.
Hermione then pushed on him slightly to usher him to sit down on the edge of the bed. After he had sat down, their faces were level. So, she stepped in between his legs and hugged her body tightly against his. Their cheeks touching. His hands raked down her back, creating a waterfall of chills, before coming to rest on her hips.
They then resumed their passionate kissing. Hermione placed her hands on either side of Ron's neck as she deepened their kisses. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she briefly heard a creaking noise, but it was quickly swept away with the pleasant currents moving through her.
All of a sudden, however, Hermione heard a low whistle come from the direction of the door...the door that had just creakedopen.She turned all the way around until she was leaning slightly against Ron's chest.
"Wow. Maybe we should come back later."
Hermione felt her face turn a bright pink as she faced a smiling Dean Thomas and a rather timid-looking Neville.
"No," Hermione said quickly, clearing her throat in an attempt to lose the breathless tone to her voice. She crossedher arms in front of her as she pulled her robe tightly together, "It's alright. I was…um…I was just leaving."
"Wish I had a girl to leave me like that." Dean said impishly.
Hermione felt Ron tense, but fortunately Neville cleared his throat and spoke up before Ron could reply to Dean's comment, "So…you two are really dating now?" Neville asked casually.
Hermione nodded as Ron said, "Yeah, mate. We really are." He then squeezed her on her side, where his hand was resting.
"Bout time, isn't it?" Dean replied
Hermione found herself smiling, as she asked, "What do you mean?" She thought she probably already knew, but she just liked to hear people say it. Harry had implied it with the gift of the plastic arm, Ginny had said it, and Ron had even said it.
"Ron's fancied you for ages." Neville said with a smile, "It wasn't all that hard to spot."
"Blimey!" Ron said suddenly, "I couldn't even fool you two?" Hermione giggled and Ron squeezed her side again.
"No, mate." Dean replied in good humor, "Neville and I even had a little bet going at the Christmas party, but I lost thanks to you."
"What?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
"I bet that you wouldn't let Dean cut in, Hermione." Neville replied somewhat sheepishly, "And Dean thought it would be Ron that would stop him."
"Bloody gits." Ron said with a chuckle.
Hermione turned around and elbowed him in the stomach, "Ronald!" She exclaimed.
"Ooh-hoo-hoo…" Dean laughed, "Watch yourself…Ronald." Hermione even laughed a bit as Ron rolled his eyes.
"Hey, mate." Dean began more seriously now, "Seamus hasn't really talked to you two since he got sloshed at the Christmas Bash, has he?"
"No. Why?" Ron asked with a scowl.
"Well, he feels a bit bad about his behavior toward you, Hermione." Dean replied, looking down at his feet, "Doesn't really remember it, but…well, I told him later that he was a pretty foul prat."
"Yeah, well, he can-…" Ron began with a growl, but Hermione interrupted after elbowing him.
"Oh, I'd already forgotten about that little mishap, Dean. Really, Seamus should just forget it." Hermione said. Ron made some sort of contradictory snort, so she elbowed him again.
"Yeah. It's forgotten." Ron said quietly. Hermione smiled at him before turning to Dean and Neville.
"Um…I guess I ought to go on to bed." She said, feeling a bit awkward. Wasn't she basically saying, 'Since you two interrupted our snog, there's no reason for me to stay.'?
Dean and Neville both smiled politelyand said, 'goodnight.' Hermione turned around to give Ron a goodnight kiss, but he stood up and said, "I'll be back in a bit, mates." He then placed a hand on the small of her back and led her from the room.
Once in the stairwell, Hermione turned a questioning gaze upon him, "What are you doing?"
"I thought I'd walk you down." He said simply, and then a bit worriedly, "Is that…alright?"
Hermione smiled up at him. "Of course it's alright. I just…well, I've never been walked out of your dormitory before."
"I've never been able to walk you down without worrying about what others might think, either."
"Right…" Hermione looked down for a moment before asking a question that she knew to be silly, but she couldn't stop herself, "So…we…we're really boyfriend and girlfriend, as they say?"
Ron smiled brightly. "I guess that's right."
"You guess?"
"Well…it's weird." He began slowly, "It's like…you're still my best friend, and the word, 'girlfriend,' doesn't really seem…well…suitable, you know?"
Hermione smiled and nodded. She did know. She felt the same way about the term, 'boyfriend.' Most boyfriends and girlfriends that Hermione had seen in Hogwarts seemed to share kisses, and some of the same interests…but she and Ron shared much more than those things.
"I love you, Hermione." Ron said quietly and unexpectedlybefore nuzzling her nose softly with his.
"I love you, too." She whispered back. He kissed her then and she returned it passionately, but she then giggled a bit. He pulled back and raised his eyebrows at her.
"Sorry," She said, "But…at this rate, we'll never get to the bottom of the stairs."
He chuckled at her, but after they held eye contact for a moment, they began kissing again. Hermione didn't giggle this time. She wasn't sure how long they stood there embracing one another with warm hands and lips. However, she was sure of just how much she loved Ron. It was immense love, a magical love that only seemed to grow more each day. So, Hermione thought as the 'bottom of the stairs' was completely forgotten, that means that every day that Ron remains a part of my life, my heart can only expand. Looking at their relationship in this light, Hermione saw that Ron truly did have the key to her heart.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay! Once again I am really sorry for the delay! The review often comment on my fast updates and I have fallen a little behind! But, maybe this extra long chapter will make up for it. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! And don't forget about the Glossary of Terms below for any of you that have no idea what Edgar was talking about. Well, thanks so much for all the reviewers and readers! Please continue to review! I enjoy them immensely!
GLOSSARY of TERMS:
ducks 'n' drakes / men and women
arvo / afternoon
youse / plural you
sooky / shy
yobbo / a fool
big bickies / a lot of money
ropeable / extremely angry
give it away / give up
fang it / hurry up
hard yakka / hard work
pommy / English person
polly / politician
big smoke / city
havin' a yack / talking
underdaks / undergarments
up a gum tree / stranded
Death Birds / Invented by me using Rhyming Cockney Slang - Another example of this slang usage is the term 'septic' or 'seppo' to mean American. They refer to Americans as Yanks, so they found something pleasant to rhyme with Yank... Septic Tank! (I'm serious)... Then, they use the first word of the rhyming phrase... Thus, I am a septic! Yay! I rhymed Death Eaters w/ Bird Feeders...and then used Bird, which has a double meaning since bird can also be a derogatory term for a woman.
squib / to chicken out
barney / a fight
Bonzer / excellent
not really my bowl of rice / not my thing, not my cup of tea
STREWTH/ equivalent to Blimey!
Sheilas / females, girls
she'll be apples / it will be alright
barrack / support (I barrack for the Gryffindor team/ the same as the American, I root for the Gryffindor team) However, 'root' means something entirely different in Australian slang! It means 'to have sex.'
Biggie / larger than usual
gee-gees / horses
Bush / countryside
Squizz / to take a look at
good oil / good information
stickybeaking / meddling
bizzo / business
Fair dinkum / Really?
not the full quid / mentally deficient
The boss cocky / the head person over something (Edgar likes to refer to Dumbledore as Hogwart's boss cocky)
nick off / leave
Holy dooley / Similar to Strewth!
Good onya / good for you
ant's pants / clever
make a good fist / do well
bluey / a redhead
Hazza / It is common to slap a 'zza' on the end of some names to create fun nicknames
Half your luck / congratulations (probably comes from "I wish I had half of your luck!")
give a gobful / abuse, criticize, berate (usually w/ good reason to do so)
Captain / look
Hooroo / goodbye