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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
All right. I have to admit that I have been having some writer's block. It's like, I know what is going to happen in the story, but the journey is just giving me a bit of trouble right now. Don't worry though, I will conquer this obstacle! But, please excuse me if I don't post every day. It might be one chapter every two days until I can get into the groove again. And this Saturday I will be taking a three day vacation to St. Louis, MO! So…that will be a bummer for my story writing. Although, I plan to write some while I'm there or on the road, so that I can have at least one chapter ready to post on my return.
Anyway, second order of business!
In regards to the review concerning the usage of Australian slang:
No Australian talks like Edgar Whitman? Absolutely correct!
Imagine how Austin Powers does not speak like most Brits... Imagine how Snoop Dogg, fo shizzle, does not speak like most Americans. And imagine how Lewis Carroll sometimes chose not to speak any language at all! As in Carroll's poem, Jabberwocky: 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves / Did gyre and gimble in the wabe / All mimsy were the borogoves / And the mome raths outgrabe."
Well, this is how I am attempting to portray Edgar. He is a bit eccentric, along with being, what Harry would call, "cool." (like Bill Weasley). One of Edgar's eccentricities is the extreme overuse of slang. He does this simply because he finds it fun and amusing. Have any of you ever heard of Zen Koans? Well, they're 'formulation, in baffling language, pointing to ultimate Truth. Koans cannot be solved by recourse to a logical reasoning.' An example of a Zen Koan would be - "A day without sunshine is like...night!" or "Be modest, and be proud of it!"
Edgar is the kind of person that casually lives by the rules of Zen. In other words, he doesn't take life too seriously. If there comes an opportunity to spice things up a bit, as in, blasting a jar behind Neville's head to prove a point in class, he's going to take it!
For reference purposes, I wanted to list the sites that I used to educate myself on the commonly and / or nearly extinct Aussie Slang, also referred to as Strine. (Edgar's not picky). But websites apparently won't show up on Fan Fiction. But, anyway, I completely understand if some of the words and phrases I've found look foreign, even to natives of Australia, because I looked up American slang via the web. (Just for funsies). There were many phrases that I had never heard before.
I guess I assumed that everyone would see Edgar's slang usage as being unique to him. Because, obviously, no one from any culture speaks in constant slang unless they are fictional. One of my favorite movies is Finding Nemo. There are many Australian accented characters throughout the film that, to my memory, do not use much, if any, slang words or phrases. And, this is how I generally picture Aussies. But Edgar, bless him, he marches to the beat of a different drum.
Also, although Edgar is an Australian man, this does not mean that I have given him an Australian personality. Because, frankly, I haven't a clue as to what that would be. I've never been to Australia and I've never met an Australian. So, Edgar 'struts' not because he is Australian, but because he's good at what he does and he knows it. And if he seems impolite, it might be because, as an Auror, he has learned to say what he means and mean what he says. (Even if he can be hard to understand). Although, I do not view Edgar as impolite. I quite like him, actually. Lol...
Anyway, I hope that this helps to explain the character of Edgar Whitman. But, now it is time to get on with the show!
Chapter 31
"Mmm…no…no Mum, notgonnawake…goodream."
"Ron. Get up…Ron."
"Mm…Herm… 'mione."
Wham!
Ron's eyes flew open as something impacted with his arm causing a minor, throbbing pain. However, he was so badly tangled in his covers, he couldn't see a thing, "Whozair? Wha-…" After some frantic movements, Ron finally managed to surface from the sheets.
Harry was looking down at him with slight distress in his eyes, "Sorry I struck you." He said slowly. Ron saw that he was replacing Ron's Potions book atop his bedside cabinet. "You didn't wake to the alarm."
Ron scowled and rubbed at his slowly forming bruise, "I think I'd have rather you poured water on me than slugging me with that book."
"Yeah, well…it probably would've done you good." Harry replied with an odd expression on his face.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean if you're going to talk in your sleep, be careful what you dream." He replied with a slight grimace.
Ron was confused for a moment. Be careful what he dreams? Had he been dreaming? Ron didn't remember having a…oh…wait a tick. Yes he did. Him…Hermione…an abandoned stairwell…pink knickers… A great foul pig! That's what he was!
"Damn." Ron grumbled, and then with apprehension, "What did I say?"
Harry's grimace deepened. "You said, 'Hermione.' But it was the way you said it that got you hit in the arm…at least the others have already gone down to the showers."
Ron looked about the dormitory. Seamus, Dean, and Neville were, in fact, gone. And that was, indeed, a good thing. The embarrassment he felt burning his face at the moment would have been severe mortification if anyone other than Harry had heard his quiet mutterings. He really needed to get better control over his dreams. The same dream had now visited him two nights in a row. He hadn't spoken in his sleep the first night. Or, at least, no one had heard and then hastily woken him if he had.
Monday night's dream had occurred because he had gone to bed with his and Hermione's recent stairwell snog on his mind. But, Ron wasn't sure why he had revisited the vacant stairwell dream again last night, for Tuesday night with Hermione had been a bit less exciting. She had come out of Ancient Runes in a frenzy because she had apparently forgotten the correct translation of 'mannaz' over the holiday. So, they had made a trip to the library for some intense studying. He had definitely not remembered everything from his N.E.W.T. classes, but he had not been in a frenzy as Hermione had. The classes had gone fairly well by his standards.
Madam Bones acted no differently in class than she had before she had become the Minister of Magic. And, to Ron's dismay, she had already given a homework assignment. He was to write a report on the Discrimination against Centaurs in European countries. Madam Hooch, on the other hand, had entertained the class with a detailed story of her holiday travels. She had spent Christmas with her husband in Zimbabwe, so she had many stories to tell, such as her sighting the sea dragons of Victoria Falls. It had been quite enjoyable, and even more so when she had forgotten to assign the work that she had hinted at toward the beginning of class. Luckily no one had reminded her.
Late Tuesday night, Ron had finished his report for Madam Bones and then fallen asleep on the library table, only to be awoken by Hermione. Who, now that Ron thought about it, had awoken him by smacking him with a book. Much softer than Harry had…but…had he said anything in his sleep in front of Hermione? Ron's stomach squirmed.
And, as Ron got out of bed and prepared for classes, his stomach continued to squirm. He would be starting the day with Snape in Potions and ending it with Snape in detention. There wouldn't be much to enjoy today except for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
It would be their first true lesson with Whitman. Ron had managed to put the 'winking incident' behind him. Whitman was a teacher; he hadn't meant anything by it. Although there was still a part of Ron that cringed when he thought of Hermione's blushing cheeks after that incident, he simply tried not to think about it. He was determined to perform to his best ability in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry's skills were now so far above his own, Ron was beginning to feel quite the dullard. It was important that he keep his head on straight during these classes, and that he wasted no time with worries over Whitman's playful behavior.
However, when Ron and Harry met Hermione that morning, Ron was immediately reminded of Whitman's playful behavior and its effect on females. Hermione came down the girls' staircase looking a bit annoyed. She promptly marched over to them, grabbed Ron's hand and quickly led them from the common room.
"What's the rush?" Harry asked as he climbed out of the portrait hole after them. Harry's robes hung on the edge of the Fat Lady's portrait, "Wha-…oh, hang on." He bent down to unhitch himself from the painting while Hermione groaned and began to fidget a bit.
"Hermione, what-…" Ron began, but just then, Lavender and Parvati came out of the portrait hole as Harry was rejoining he and Hermione. Ron heard Hermione mumble something as she turned toward the Grand Staircase that sounded a bit like, 'pudding heads.'
"Yes, I know!" Said Lavender from behind them as they made their descent to the Great Hall for breakfast, "I've never seen eyes that color before."
"They're golden brown…like," Parvati began in a somewhat reflective voice, "…like caramel."
"Oh, and that was so adorable when he called me a 'little sheila." Lavender added excitedly.
"So charming." Parvati said in agreement. Ron and Harry exchanged looks. Harry looked slightly amused, but Hermione was huffing and puffing.
By the time they had made it down the staircase and to their seats at the Gryffindor table, Parvati and Lavender had managed to comment on all of Edgar's attributes…from head to toe. Ron was only too glad when they were able to part ways with the giddy girls.
"They are driving me mad!" Hermione exclaimed as she reached across the table for a piece of toast.
"Have they been at that all morning?" Ron asked. Hermione sighed heavily and nodded.
"It's just ridiculous." She said, rolling her eyes.
Ron couldn't contain a small smile as he looked at her. Why had he wasted any time worrying about Whitman's effects on Hermione? She obviously couldn't care less about his charm.
"Harry?" Hermione said suddenly, looking across the table with a furrowed brow. Ron then noticed that Harry, who was frowning at his plate, seemed to be stabbing his kipper a bit harder than necessary with his fork.
"You alright, mate?" Ron added cautiously. Harry looked up and shrugged.
"Hey, Harry," Hermione began, as if suddenly realizing something, "Where's Ginny?"
Ron then realized that his sister was, indeed, not with them this morning. He had been too distracted by Lavender and Parvati's babble to notice until now. Harry jerked his head to indicate down the table a ways. Ron glanced down and saw that Ginny was eating with the same crowd she had often eaten with before she and Harry had become a pair. Dean Thomas was sitting across from Ginny, and Ron didn't really like the way he was looking at his sister.
"Well, what's she down there for?" Ron demanded.
"I told her to eat down there." Harry replied plainly. Ron and Hermione exchanged looks as Harry continued; "Ginny told me yesterday that one of her dorm mates asked her if she and I were dating. She denied it, of course, but I thought it might be best for her to refrain from eating with us at every meal."
"How did she take that?" Hermione asked tentatively. Harry looked up glumly. He didn't have to respond in words. That look told them exactly how Ginny had taken it.
The rest of their breakfast was eaten in near silence. Harry cast a few furtive glances down the table at Ginny, but for the most part he just stared at his plate. Hermione still seemed a bit weary from her morning of listening to 'frivolous twaddle,' as she called it. So, Ron just ate quietly as he held Hermione's hand beneath the table and pondered what vile thing Snape would have he and Harry do for their detention. Possibly disemboweling some Blast-Ended Skrewts or pruning the limbs of the Whomping Willow.
As he, Hermione, and Harry made their way to the dungeons, Ron continued to think of unpleasant scenarios for his evening detention. Snape was milling through the ingredient cabinet when they entered. He gave he and Harry a most sinister grin when he spotted them, and he then promptly reminded them of their detentions. The sound of Snape's voice, elated at the fact that Ron and Harry had to suffer at his hands, was possibly the worst greeting one could receive for one's morning class.
"Psst. Weasley!"
Malfoy had just entered with his squad of swine and was taking his seat as Ron, Harry, and Hermione took their seats at their own table. As Ron turned to look at Malfoy's skinny, pale face, Ron realized that he had been wrong. There was actually a worse greeting than Snape's arrogant voice.
"I know your family's dirt poor," Malfoy began with a sneer, "But you're still pureblood, so why don't you act like one?"
"What is that supposed to mean?" Ron asked dangerously. Hermione had suddenly grabbed hold of his arm.
Malfoy looked straight at Hermione with a hideously ugly look of revulsion and spat, "If you mate with that thing, she'll soil the blood of your child."
"You bastard!" Ron shouted at once, gripping firmly to the table until his knuckles turned white, preparing to thrust himself up from his seat. A surging wave of hot fury immediately flooded his every sense. Snape looked up from his cabinet with a look of utter confusion, but Ron didn't care what the consequences of his actions would be. He was going to pound Malfoy!
However, as he made to stand…nothing happened. He tried to push himself up from his chair with his legs, but they were completely frozen. He tried to move his hands, but they remained glued to the table. He was about to shout an expletive in his confusion, but his mouth wouldn't open either. Hermione now had a viselike grip on Ron's arm with both of her hands, but he knew this wasn't the reason he seemed to be completely immobile! Well, he wasn't completely immobile. He could still turn his head from side to side.
Ron turned his head to see Malfoy staring at him with a self-satisfied, yet slightly baffled, smirk. He didn't appear to be performing any kind of Binding Hex. Snape hastily began approaching Ron's side of the table, yet with his eyes, for some reason, on Harry. Looking at Harry, Ron noticed something odd. Harry was staring at Snape, but with one hand held to his side, his palm facing Ron.
Something automatically clicked into place in Ron's mind, "Harry!" He shouted angrily, suddenly regaining the ability to speak.
"No." Harry stated sternly. Hermione was fearfully looking from one to the other.
"You heard him!" Ron exclaimed in slight disbelief. Did Harry not want justice to be served? He couldn't just sit still after a comment like that…
"Not now!" Harry said impatiently.
"Silence!" Snape bellowed, looking from Ron to Harry with anger and a bit of alarm. "I don't know, nor do I care what you two are talking about, but Weasley! I do not tolerate absurd outbursts in my class. Detention this Friday and fifty points from Gryffindor!"
"But it's not absurd!" Ron shouted, still unable to move more than his neck, "Malfoy-…"
"Monday, as well!" Snape hissed vehemently. "And one more word will make it an additional week's worth!"
Although Harry had him in a full-body bind, Ron's chest was still heaving up and down with his suppressed rage. He glared at Snape, until his Potions Master seemed to trust that there would be no more outbursts from him. Snape then turned on his heel to stalk to the front of the classroom.
Suddenly, Ron felt his body release slightly. He turned to look at Harry, who was giving him an apologetic frown and whose hand was now resting on the table. Ron then realized that his torso could now move along with him. Wiggling his fingers slightly to make sure that Harry had released him completely, Ron opened his mouth to berate Harry for preventing him from attacking, but his gaze landed on Hermione.
She was staring up at him with a teary-eyed, worried expression as she released her hands from his arm and took one of his hands in both of hers before resting it in her lap. '…Mate with that thing…' That was possibly the vilest thing Malfoy had ever said to Hermione, yet Ron knew that she didn't want him to touch the coward. She didn't want him to touch him when every cell in his body was aching to cause him pain! Well, Ron thought, if Hermione doesn't want me to touch him…then I won't…touch him.
Throughout Potions, Hermione continued to thank the stars that Harry was able to perform wandless magic. If Ron had been able to move, she knew exactly what would have happened. Well, maybe not exactly, but she knew it would have involved a severely injured Malfoy and a much worse punishment for Ron than detention. '…Mate with that thing…' How base! Still, Hermione knew that Malfoy's ignorant comment had infuriated Ron, while it merely perturbed Hermione. She knew how Malfoy felt about her, and she didn't think he could say anything that would actually surprise her.
Toward the end of class, Hermione began to get a bit weary of Ron's potential intentions for revenge. She knew that he had spent the hour class letting Malfoy's words fester in his mind. Why couldn't he just forget it, and cool his temper? Because, Hermione answered herself... he loves me... At Snape's dismissal, Ron took his time loading his satchel while keeping one eye on Malfoy, and it was making Hermione quite antsy.
"Ron…" Hermione began wearily, "Please don't-…"
Hermione didn't get to finish because Ron grabbed her hand and began dragging her toward the classroom door. Harry was in their wake, and Malfoy was ahead of them. As they exited the chilly classroom, Hermione looked up into Ron's set-jawed, stony face before she heard a thud and a yelp.
Hermione jerked her head toward the sound, and her mouth fell open. Malfoy was sprawled out on the stone floor. His eyes were rolled back in the back of his head and he was jerking around madly. It looked as though he were being electrocuted! Then his body went completely limp and he just lay there, moaning softly. Horrified, Hermione turned to reprimand Ron, but she then remembered that she had been watching him when she heard the yelp from Malfoy. Ron's mouth hadn't moved at all.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed turning to him instead. Harry's eyes were wide and he was staring at Malfoy's limp form.
"It wasn't me!" He whispered back urgently. Hermione looked once again to Ron and saw that he was slowly tucking his wand back inside his robes while scowling at Malfoy's form.
Hermione's mouth opened with a ready retort, but she didn't get a chance to speak.
"Weasley!" Snape snarled from the doorway of the classroom. He strode into the hall and peered down at Malfoy, whose moans of pain were steadily growing louder.
"Mr. Goyle," Snape began, continuing to look at Malfoy with, what Hermione thought to be, uncomfortable disgust, "Take him to the hospital wing."
Snape then turned a stern and suspicious gaze upon Ron. "Do you think you can attack a student right outside the door to my classroom without getting caught?"
"Professor," Ron stated with surprising calm, "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."
Hermione and Harry were both gaping at Ron. Hermione was virtually trembling on the inside! How could he be so calm? She'd never seen him address a teacher in that sort of cool, offhand manner.
"Don't give me that caustic cheek, Mr. Weasley!" Snape spat angrily, "Let me see your wand and we'll see whether or not you know what I'm talking about." Hermione's legs felt slightly weak. Now what?
Ron stared at Snape, and with a semblance of a smile he replied, "No." Hermione actually gasped. Had he gone completely mad? Realizing that Ron still had a firm hold on her hand, she squeezed his hand as tightly as she could as a silent warning. He squeezed back but kept his gaze upon Snape.
"What…did you say?" Snape asked slowly. His eyes were squinted into dangerous, black specks.
"I said…no." Ron stated just as calmly as if he were talking to her or Harry about the weather. Hermione thought she might be sick. She turned to Harry, who was now looking at Ron as if he had never seen him before.
Snape opened his mouth, but Ron cut him off, "I don't much like the idea of you performing the Prior Incantato spell on my wand."
"Do you think that I care what you 'like?" Snape growled in anger. Hermione feared that the vein on his forehead might burst.
"No. I know you don't care, but Article 32 C of the Ministry of Magic's Privacy Charter states that only Ministry officials have the legal right to perform Prior Incantato, and even they need a warrant constituting probable cause." Ron said smartly, "So, no Professor. You may not see my wand."
Hermione was holding her breath, causing her heart to beat painfully in her chest, as she looked up at Ron. Was this Ron Weasley? Where had that spill come from? He sounded like a Ministry official himself! Snape's pale face had turned a sickly shade of pink.
"Let us see what the Headmaster has to say about Article 32 C, Mr. Weasley." Snape hissed in a near whisper. He grabbed Ron's arm as if to drag him to see Dumbledore, but Ron stood his ground.
"Alright." Ron responded calmly, "And while we're there, we can ask him about Article 42 A under the Legalities of Administering Veritaserum. I'm sure we could get permission to give some to Malfoy in order to get the full story. Then he can tell the Headmaster what he said in class that you didn't care to hear."
Snape released Ron's arm as if he'd been burned. For a brief moment, Hermione thought that Snape was considering striking Ron across the face. But he simply took a deep breath as his face turned a bright red and he and Ron glared at one another. He then turned sharply on his heel to retreat back into his classroom, where he quickly slammed the door with a wave of his hand.
As soon as the door slammed shut behind him with a deafening bang, Hermione let out a long, shaky breath. She then looked up at Ron's smug expression; she was completely speechless.
"That…was…" Harry began slowly, looking at Ron in a daze. "…the most brilliant thing I've ever seen!"
Ron looked at Harry, which somehow prompted them both to laugh rather loudly. Hermione was almost positive that Snape could hear them from inside his classroom.
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, suddenly regaining the ability to speak, "How did you know all that…that information? I mean, the articles and whatnot…do they even exist?"
He actually looked down at her and chuckled. "They exist, yeah. I just happened to come across those laws last night in the library while doing research for that bloody report."
Hermione just gaped at him. He then continued, "Did you know that Centaurs weren't included in Article 42 A until a few years ago? Any ministry official could just slip them some Veritaserum whenever they pleased! I mean, no wonder they don't trust us, you know? If you think about all the-…"
"Ron, shush a minute!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. She'd just remembered something! "Did you perform a silent Stunning-Bolt Hex?"
Ron's smug expression faded slightly and his eyes got huge, "Silent? Blimey…did I?" He whispered in awe.
"Yeah, mate!" Harry said with a smile. "Not all that hard when you want something bad enough, is it?"
"Bloody hell…" Ron said, staring off vaguely.
"Ron, that's your first silent spell!" Hermione said happily. He looked down at her and smiled broadly before abruptly bending down to hug her tightly, lifting her upward to spin her around in a circle. She giggled in surprise. When her feet hit ground she stepped up on her toes to lock her lips over his.
"Um…I'm going to go on to Charms, but you two take your time."
Hermione pulled away from Ron and looked to Harry with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Harry." She said with a small giggle, "We're ready."
Harry gave her a somewhat awkward smile before leading the way to the third floor. Once they arrived to hear Flitwick's introduction to the lesson, Ron and Harry 'compared notes' on their experiences with silent spell-casting. Hermione attempted to listen while she worked on her Charms' assignment. Harry said that his first silent spell was, like Ron's, performed without him really realizing it.
Harry said that the art would come naturally to Ron now that he knew he could do it. She was extremely proud of Ron's ability to perform that hex without an incantation, which she told him. She was not so proud of the fact that he had risked a great punishment by attacking Malfoy directly outside the Potions' classroom, which she also told him. However, Hermione told neither Ron, nor Harry, that as they continued to talk amongst themselves, she attempted the Lumos spell silently. Nothing happened. She tried sporadically throughout the entire class period, but to no avail. So by the time Transfiguration rolled around, she was feeling quite discouraged.
Luckily McGonagall quickly introduced the lesson. This made Hermione listen to McGonagall's voice instead of the voice inside her head, which was saying, 'What is the matter with you? Harry and Ron can perform silent charms and hexes. Why can't you?'
McGonagall instructed them to change miscellaneous items into small owls. She said this was useful when stranded without a means of communication. It was a rather interesting lesson, but Hermione was having a bit of trouble with the practical bit of it. Only one of her objects had been turned into an owl, which was now merely hopping about her desk because she had neglected to give it proper wings. Could she not even perform spells with incantations anymore?
No, she wasn't becoming a Squib. Hermione knew much of her troubles with spell casting, silent and spoken, came from her lack of concentration. And, her lack of concentration was due to her thoughts on Ron. He was absolutely livid over Malfoy's comment. Would he be able to restrain himself from attacking him in the future if Harry weren't there to restrain him? Especially now that he could perform silent spells. Hermione's stomach didn't seem to think so as it was churning uncomfortably.
There were, however, some butterflies in her stomach, as well. They were flying about in excitement over Ron's love for her. He had now acquired two additional detentions for standing up for her! And, if he hadn't been so very clever with his knowledge of Magical Law, Snape would have surely attempted to get him expelled for the rest of the term.
Unfortunately, her stomach butterflies remained the only things that seemed to be flying about at Hermione's desk. She had only managed to make two wingless owls by the end of the class period.
So, when Hermione heard McGonagall call, "Class dismissed," she was quite unsatisfied with her work. If she were discouraged with her work in Transfiguration, which she normally excelled at, she would be utterly despicable in Defense Against the Dark Arts! Nevertheless, she followed Ron and Harry's lead in standing from their chairs to head for Whitman's class.
However, as they reached the door to exit the Transfiguration classroom, she heard a crisp and unexpected, "Miss Granger, I need to speak with you please." Hermione turned to see McGonagall taking a seat behind her desk as she shuffled some papers.
"Blimey, Hermione." Ron whispered beside her, looking from her pathetic owls to McGonagall. "Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine!" She snapped. Ron raised his eyebrows at her. "Just…just go on to Whitman's class. I'll be there shortly." She added softly, placing a hand on Ron's arm in an attempt to reconcile her unnecessary callousness. After all, she wasn't upset with Ron; she was upset with herself.
"No!" Ron whispered harshly, "You're not walking back on your own. Especially not after what Malfoy said in Potions."
Hermione sighed impatiently, "Okay… But at least go out in the hall to wait for me." She said softly.
Ron nodded and he and Harry quickly left for the hallway. Now it was just Hermione and McGonagall in the large classroom that suddenly seemed cramped.
"Miss Granger, please sit down." McGonagall said as she conjured a wooden chair in front of her desk. Hermione slowly approached the chair and sat down. Her throat suddenly felt parched.
McGonagall took a deep breath before continuing. "Miss Granger you have always been responsible in your use of time, as we both know. Yet, you wasted much of my Monday class period, ostensibly highly distracted. And today you made a great mistake with the transfiguring of your owls."
"Yes, Professor," Hermione began, "I-…"
"Please let me finish, Miss Granger." McGonagall replied firmly, "I believe that I know what is affecting your performance in my class."
"You do?" Hermione asked in a small voice. Her heart was now beating rather quickly. Did McGonagall know that Ron was in her every thought? Did she know that she was consumed with him from dusk until dawn? Thinking back, Hermione could remember all of the reasons for her recent inability to focus. Ron…Ron…Ron…and Ron.
"I know all about what happened over the Christmas holiday." McGonagall replied. "It was, of course, a large topic of discussion at the Order meetings."
Hermione just stared at her with wide eyes. What? Why would the Order be concerned with her romantic life? Had Tonks betrayed her and Ron's trust?
"It was?" Hermione asked in the same small voice.
McGongall furrowed her brow. "Of course it was. Do you think the Order would simply ignore an attack on your family?" She asked incredulously.
Hermione suddenly had to fight the urge to release a nervous laugh threatening to burst from her chest. "Of course not…how silly of me." She replied. How silly of her, indeed! She truly was consumed with Ron Weasley!
The attack! Had she forgotten? No, of course she hadn't forgotten. But, it hadn't even entered her mind when McGongall said, 'I know al about what happened over the Christmas holiday.' Had she thought of the attack? No. Had she thought of the turmoil between Harry and Ginny? No. Had she thought about the spontaneous snogs with Ron at the Burrow and Grimmauld Place? Yes!
"Well," McGonagall began again, "I understand how you must be feeling, but you mustn't let it conflict with your studies. You are much too bright and talented to become preoccupied during your sixth year. With your N.E.W.T. classes and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, you will need the utmost concentration this term."
"Yes, Professor." Hermione said softly. McGonagall peered at her briefly from over the tops of her square-rimmed glasses. She then nodded sharply as if satisfied with her warning to Hermione, but Hermione suddenly realized that she wasn't satisfied. She had just remembered something that she had considered speaking with McGonagall about last term.
"Professor, about Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione began slowly, "I seem to be having a bit more difficulty this year than previous years. I've never been quite as strong as Harry or Ron, but I could not even begin to form the Shield Charm you taught us last term."
McGonagall just stared at her for a moment with an unreadable expression before sighing softly. "Miss Granger, after I discovered from Madam Pomfrey that your boggart was a group of Death Eaters, I began to wonder… Do you often think of the incident that transpired at the Department of Mysteries?"
"Yes." Hermione replied softly, not quite sure where this was going. McGonagall nodded a few times.
"I believe that seeing the Death Eater's face to face may have created a fear in you that is affecting your performance in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Sometimes tragedies or horrible ordeals will affect one's magical ability. I experienced this same problem at one time."
Hermione took a moment to digest this comment before asking, "May I ask you what happened to affect your magical ability?"
"My brother and his wife…were murdered during the last war." Mcgonagall said with a calm, yet stony expression, "My own niece joined the Death Eaters toward the beginning of Voldemort's rise. She had always been a believer in the views of Salazar Slytherin. So she liked the idea of campaigning for a school of pureblood students only. Unfortunately she was young and foolish and did not understand the means by which Voldemort planned to accomplish his persecution of Muggles and Muggle-borns. Soon after she joined his followers, she was asked to participate in a mission. They were to destroy a Muggle orphanage, killing hundreds of Muggle children. She refused. Her punishment was being forced to watch the Death Eaters murder my brother and his wife…her parents."
"Oh, that's awful…" Hermione breathed, before adding, "Professor, I believe something similar happened to Professor Sinistra. Did it not?"
"Yes." McGonagall replied blandly, "Sobrina is my niece."
Hermione's eyes went wide, "Your niece, Professor?"
"Yes," McGonagall replied in an almost bored voice, "Like mine own, her powers were affected by the tragedy. She had been studying to be a Healer, but after the incident, her magical abilities suffered greatly. There are many different ways to deal with a tragedy. Sobrina decided to run from her problem and study Astronomy."
"She seems to enjoy Astronomy, at least." Hermione said thoughtfully, "She's always referring to the Star Theory. Which, I'm not sure whether or not I believe."
"Of course you don't believe it!" McGonagall stated harshly, "Sobrina only believes in that nonsense because she can not seem to cope with reality. She has convinced herself that her parents are watching her from the stars, which is why they entrance her so. To deal with the tragedy, she not only ran from her problem, but she also created a fantastical world in which to believe."
Hermione was suddenly reminded of Luna and her father. She thought of all the extraordinarily ridiculous things that they seemed to believe. Was it possible that the made up stories in the Quibbler were a means of escape for Mr. Lovegood from the loss of his wife? And… poor Luna has been swept away into his fantasy world…
"So, Professor," Hermione began, bringing her focus back to her present conversation, "Might I ask what you did to cope with your brother's death?"
"I turned my fear into determination." McGonagall stated in a strong voice, "I became determined to do everything in my power to fight against Voldemort and his followers."
Hermione nodded. She suddenly felt very at ease, although she didn't really know why.
"Now," McGonagall said as she began scratching something onto a small piece of parchment with her quill, "Take this note to Professor Whitman. It will excuse you for being late."
"Oh. Um…Professor-…"
"I've mentioned Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, as well, who are undoubtedly waiting for you just outside the door." She said as she handed Hermione the note. One corner of McGonagall's mouth seemed to be twitching.
Hermione smiled as she felt her face become warm, "Thank you, Professor."
"I expect to see better work from you this Friday, Miss Granger." McGonagall said as Hermione rose to leave.
"Yes, Professor." Hermione replied before turning to leave the room. At the door she cast one last look at McGonagall, who had already resumed the shuffling of papers.
"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed as soon as she walked out into the hallway. "All you did was leave the wings off of those grubby owls, and she thought you deserved a ten minute lecture?"
"No, it's fine." Hermione said smiling up at him. "She was right, I was really slacking in her class. She had a right to be upset." Ron rolled his eyes.
"Well, what did she say?" Harry asked.
"Oh, you know." Hermione stated, trying to sound casual. She ignored the suspicious looks she was now receiving from Ron and Harry. "We need to hurry and get to Defense Against the Dark Arts." She added hastily before heading off down the hall.
Hermione wasn't exactly sure why she didn't want to discuss the conversation she had just had with McGonagall with Ron and Harry. She knew she would eventually wish to tell them, but for now, she simply wanted to digest everything that had just been revealed to her. Especially the parts about her own subconscious mind.
Although she had been a bit concerned with arriving late to their second class with Whitman, upon their arrival she found that she had nothing to be worried over. There was a lot of chatting going on and Whitman was at the front of the class setting up large, blue targets that were levitated in mid-air. There were no tables set up so she, Ron, and Harry just stood around like everyone else.
"Oh look," Harry said gesturing toward one corner of the room, "They look a bit lost without their leader don't they?" Hermione looked to see that Crabbe and Goyle were standing alone in the corner, and they did look quite misplaced without Malfoy standing between them. Ron smiled smugly in their direction.
"Oh, I just remembered!" Hermione said suddenly, removing McGonagall's note from her pocket. She explained it to Ron and Harry before approaching the front of the classroom, where Whitman was still setting up targets.
"Um…sir?" Hermione said quietly. Whitman turned around quickly and flashed her a bright smile.
"Call me Edgar, Miss Granger." He replied swiftly. Hermione was a bit surprised that he remembered her name after one day of class. He must really be taking this job seriously, Hermione thought.
"Oh. Alright…Edgar." Hermione said awkwardly. It was so peculiar having a teacher that was nearly your age that expected you to address him by his first name. "This is a note from Professor McGonagall excusing myself, Ron, and Harry for being a bit late."
He took the note from her and read over it quickly before tucking into his jeans' pocket. Another oddity of this new teacher… None of the other teachers dressed quite so casually. It did make him a little less intimidating. "Alright there, Missy. Ta muchly!" He said before smiling at her briefly. He then turned back around to finish his work with the targets.
After regrouping with Ron and Harry, Hermione began repeating to herself what McGonagall had told her, "I turned my fear into determination … I became determined to do everything in my power to fight against Voldemort and his followers." Hermione really thought about this for a second. I can do this! She thought. If Harry's destiny were to face that monster, then Hermione would do all that she could to help him. What if she found herself in a situation in which Harry needed her help with attacking someone…or something? She wanted to be much more help to him than she had been at the Department of Mysteries.
Clap!
Hermione jumped slightly at the sound of Whitman clasping his hands together. She guessed that this was his way of starting the class since he had done the same thing on Monday. It seemed to work because both times it had caused the whisperings to die off abruptly.
"Hullo, mateys!" He exclaimed cheerily. "I hope everyone ate a good brekkie because I've prepared a bit of strenuous yakka for ya."
He then turned and gestured toward the targets; there were six of them across the front of the room, "Now, I told you lot that I wanted to work on perfecting your marksmanship. So, I'd like everyone to rock up here to these targets and form some lines." When no one seemed to want to be the first to move, he added, "Fang it!"
At this exclamation everyone quickly formed six separate lines in front of the targets. Hermione did feel nervous, but she also felt much more confident than she had this morning before her talk with McGonagall.
"Alright," Whitman began, as he positioned himself in between targets three and four, "The only way to perfect your aim is to practice it. There's not really anything I can teach you. I find the best spell to practice aim with to be Stupefy. These targets are enchanted so that the exact point of impact will briefly turn a different color so that youse can see where you've struck it. Your goal is to strike as near the center as possible. So, have at it!"
His instructions were so brief and to the point, it took the students that happened to be first in line a moment before they realized it was time to begin. Hermione and Ron were at the end of one of the lines. Harry was at the front of another. Hermione couldn't see too well what was going on, but she heard some incantations and saw some shots of red.
"Good on ya, mates!" Whitman exclaimed. "Goyle, innit? You need to lower that wand arm a bit. And Finnigan, don't spread your plates of meat so far apart. Shoulder width is plenty. Good on ya, Potter! Next!"
"Ron." Hermione whispered, he leaned down for her to continue, "What did Harry do? I can't see."
"He hit his target directly in the center." He whispered back with a small smile. Hermione had an urge to turn her head and kiss him, but she didn't. Ron continued, "It turned green, too. The others' turned red." Hermione guessed the target turned a different color depending on how close you got to the center.
The first group moved to the back of the line, and Hermione was then one step closer to her turn. She remembered that night of the boggart incident when she had not been able to Stupefy them, or even move. She had completely frozen up. Now that McGonagall had helped her to understand a theory of why she was unable to act, it was really beginning to make sense to Hermione. She realized now that during that incident, she had been thinking, 'I can't do it,' 'I can't do it.' And, during the bi-weekly defense classes, she had told herself the same thing. 'I can't make that shield,' 'It's too hard.'
She had told herself these things because at the Department of Mysteries, she had come out of the fray feeling completely incompetent and useless to her friends. The most useful thing she had done was mark the doors with X's. So what! This attitude of continuously telling herself that she was incapable of difficult magic had created a fear in her of Defense Against the Dark Arts. After all, her second biggest fear was failure. But now that she knew all of that, striking that target in the center did not seem like much of a big deal at all.
"Next!" Whitman called. Ron nudged Hermione gently in the small of her back. She turned around to smile at him before approaching the target and aiming at its center.
"Stupefy!" Shouted six voices. A red light shot from the end of Hermione's wand and impacted with her target. She was very pleased to see a red mark, extremely close to the center. Hermione figured that only bull's-eyes turned green because hers was very close.
"Alright! Good! Grouse!" Whitman said glancing around at the targets. "Miss Parkinson, I think you'd do better to lower that chin a bit. But Miss Granger!" He said as he approached her and turned to look at her mark, "Bonzer! I'm impressed."
"Thanks." Hermione said happily, as she admired her marksmanship. She was about to turn around to see Ron's reaction to her work when Whitman moved directly behind her.
"May I make a small suggestion, Miss Granger?" He asked.
A bit surprised at being asked this question by a teacher, Hermione replied, "Of course." No teacher had ever asked whether or not they could make a suggestion. Wasn't that what their job was in the first place?
"Alright. Aim at the target again. Just like before." He said. Hermione obeyed. "Now, tell me if this helps." Whitman then reached around her from behind and repositioned her fingers on her wand. Then removing his hand from hers, he said, "Try again."
Hermione thought this new grip on her wand felt odd, but when she recast the spell, she noticed that it actually did give her more control of the spell's direction. "Wow!" She exclaimed excitedly. She'd never thought to hold her wand in this way, but it worked! "Thank you, Edgar."
Whitman placed his hands on her shoulders and said, "No worries, darl." Before walking off and calling, "Next!"
On her way to the back of the line, Hermione approached Ron, "Did you see that?" She asked excitedly. She couldn't believe she'd never thought to hold her wand in that way!
"Yeah…I saw it." He replied blandly, not looking at her.
"Oh," Hermione said absently, looking into his face, which appeared a bit red, "Well, good luck."
"Thanks." He said shortly before turning to approach the target.
Hermione walked back to the end of the line. Why was he being so snippy? He must be nervous… Hermione thought. But she was surprised that he didn't show at least a little enthusiasm at her doing well with the exercise. Hadn't he been extremely adamant about her trying her hardest in this class? Well, maybe he would be a bit moreenthusiastic after he had taken his turn…
"Stupefy!" Ron yelled. His red mark was not near as close to the center as he new he was capable of. But, when one's hand was shaking from anger, it affected one's aim.
Whitman started making some comments to the other shooters, but Ron wasn't listening. He was, instead, wondering what this new teacher was playing at. Ron knew that it was not necessary to stand behind someone in order to fix their grip on their wand. That Whitman prat had simply seen an opportunity to reach around a pretty girl and he had taken it. And Hermione seemed oblivious to what had just happened.
"Hey, Bluey! You away with the Pixies?"
Ron looked up to see Whitman approaching him.
"Aim your wand again, mate." He said hastily. Ron obeyed. Whitman then repositioned Ron's fingers on his wand as he had Hermione's, only he hadn't walked behind Ron and reached around his body. Just as Ron had thought!
"Now, give it another burl!" Whitman exclaimed.
Ron looked at the target and envisioned it as being Whitman's thick head. "Stupefy!" He yelled. The impact shook the target slightly and turned a spot in the center green.
"Well, I'll be stuffed!" Whitman said slapping him on the back, "That's more like it, eh?"
"Yeah. Thanks." Ron muttered quietly before going to the back of the line, where Hermione greeted him with a huge smile.
"That was amazing, Ron!" She said happily, grabbing hold of his arm. He nodded and attempted a weak smile. "What's the matter?" She added quickly.
Ron shook his head at her, "Nothing." He muttered. She continued to look at him worriedly, but she released his arm.
"Alright then, mates!" Edgar exclaimed, "Everyone's had a go, right?" There was a murmured assent, "Bonzer... Now, I'm going to conjure some more targets so that there's one for each of you. And for the rest of the hour, I want you all to practice individually."
Whitman then conjured enough targets for everyone before setting them up in a circle around the classroom. Ron, Hermione, and Harry claimed three targets beside each other and quickly began practicing at their own paces.
Ron was doing rather well, but he attributed some of this to the fact that he was still imagining the target to be Whitman's head.
"Bloody beaut, Bluey!" Whitman said from behind Ron after he had hit a bull's-eye. This exclamation had, however,caused his next shot to hit far left. "Oh, sorry 'bout that. Although, you can't let yourself get distracted by unexpected noises and whatnot. In a real battle, you never know what you might hear, and you can't afford to come a gutzer."
Ron merely nodded as Whitman continued walking about the circle. Death Eaters had chased him around dark, deserted corridors! He didn't need some teasing perv to give him advice on 'real battles.'
"I did it!"
Ron turned to his right to see Hermione jumping up and down slightly, a green mark shining on her target. She turned to smile brightly at Ron, but Whitman all but ran to her.
"Fair suck of the sav!" Whitman exclaimed excitedly, rushing over to Hermione's target. "That was a rip snorter of a shot, Miss!"
Hermione was smiling brightly, "Well, this really is a much better way to hold a wand. I'm surprised no one's ever shown us." She said holding her hand out slightly, admiring her hold on her wand.
"Yeah. The way you lot were holding them wands was a bit bodgy. But, no one's ever shown you that?" Whitman exclaimed incredulously. "Well, then you probably haven't learned the proper stance either, eh?"
"Well, I'm not sure."
"Strewth!" He said, shaking his head, "You've got to have a good pozzy! Stand like this." Whitman took his stance, "Feet shoulder width apart. One foot slightly behind the other. Shoulders back…and…,"
Hermione was standing as he had instructed, but Whitman had stopped to look at her with furrowed brows. "Turn your shoulders a bit toward your wand hand…no…not like that…here."
Whitman then, once again, moved to stand behind Hermione, where he placed his hands just above her elbows. Ron felt his face growing warmer by the second. Whitman then turned Hermione a bit to the right before grabbing hold of her wand hand and extending it straight out in front of her. "There!" He said cheerfully before walking around Hermione to look at her, "Heaps better, eh?"
Ron realized that he had been staring at them with a scowl. He quickly turned back to his target and shot a couple of bull's-eyes before glancing to his side once more. Whitman had now gone on to help a Slytherin boy, leaving Hermione practicing her new stance with a look of stern concentration. Ron would have normally admired her adorable expressions, but he was too busy picturing Whitman's recent antics toward Hermione.
And Hermione still appeared oblivious! Did she not understand that Edgar Whitman was flirting with her? Shamelessly! Or…Ron thought, his scowl returning…did she simply not mind it?
"Hooroo!" Whitman called merrily as he brought the class to a close. He then began levitating the targets to stack vertically atop his desk as the students began filing out of the classroom, talking happily.
Hermione retrieved her satchel from a peg on the wall while she awaited Ron and Harry, who had just been approached by Whitman. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but Harry was smiling. Ron, on the other hand, had a frustrated expression and seemed to be avoiding Whitman's eye. Throughout class, Hermione had stolen a few peeks at Ron, and each time she had seen his target turn green! She had only managed that twice throughout the period! Why did he look so miserable? Maybe he was having some sort of lapse in confidence… Maybe he had attempted another silent spell and failed…
Suddenly, Whitman and Harry strode off to the front desk, but Ron began slowly making his way toward her. His head was down and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his slacks.
"You did really well today." Hermione said softly as he removed his satchel from the wall.
"Thanks." He said quietly. "You too."
Hermione frowned at him as he turned for the door. She followed. He didn't sound very enthusiastic. It was right irksome to Hermione. She had been trying her very hardest in this class, and had been thinking of Ron the entire time. Ron will be so pleased! I've been able to make progress! Ron should be delighted… Once in the hall, he stopped right outside the door and leaned against the wall, looking off to the side.
"What are Harry and Edgar discussing?" Hermione asked curiously.
"I'm not sure." He replied shortly. She sighed heavily. She was through playing this game!
"What is the matter with you?" She asked firmly.
He looked at her for the first time since the beginning of class. After making some sort of puffing noise, he said, "Hermione, that prat's hands were all over you."
"What?" She asked completely taken aback and confused by this comment. Her heart began thumping rapidly as she realized what he must be referring to. "Professor Whitman? Ron…"
"Oh Professor?" Ron said a bit more loudly, pushing himself up from the wall to face her, "Is he Professor now?"
"What?" Hermione nearly whispered, taking a step back.
He rolled his eyes at her before responding, "You're the only one in the class that calls him Edgar."
"No I…I'm…he asked me to call him that!" Hermione stuttered. She felt as if she were being attacked! "Besides…Harry calls him Edgar!"
"Yeah?" He said, looking at her with a mocking smile, "Well, Harry doesn't have your…assets, does he?"
"That is such a crude thing to say." She spat, her temper rising.
"Crude?" He asked incredulously, "You can be so naïve sometimes." He muttered, leaning back against the wall.
"Ha! That's funny." Hermione began, taking a few steps closer to him, "I was just thinking the same thing about you!"
He squinted his eyes at her then. "You know what? Actually, Edgar suits him just fine…because he's no more of a Professor than I am." He said jabbing himself in the chest with his thumb.
She pursed her lips at him. "Well, than what is he, Ronald?"
"He's a…a defense leader." He said with a scowl, "Like Harry was for the D.A."
"That is just…that is ridiculous." Hermione said crossing her arms firmly across her chest, "He is a professor and he was showing me how to stand properly."
"Hermione," Ron began quietly, the anger in his eyes faded slightly, "I watched him with the other girls in the class. He fancies you."
"Fancies me?" She exclaimed in disbelief. "You know, maybe he just appreciates my progress. Unlike someone I know."
The anger in his eyes reappeared full force, and he pushed himself up from the wall again, "Well, if your progress didn't involve his progressing over you, I might be able to appreciate it a bit more!" He said, glaring down at her. They were now a mere foot apart.
"Ron, do you honestly think I would allow him to put his hands on me if it weren't completely necessary for the lesson?" She asked in exasperation, throwing her hands up into the air.
"I'm beginning to wonder." He stated darkly, looking away from her.
Hermione felt a lump form in her throat. "You don't mean that." She said shakily before swallowing hard.
"Hermione, can you stand here and tell me that this is necessary?" Ron then moved behind her, grabbing her hand with his, and lifting her arm in front of her. He placed his other arm just above her elbow. She could feel his quick, angry breath on the back of her ear. Hermione's stomach stirred sickly. Had Edgar been this close to her? What was she even asking herself this for? Edgar had shown her the proper way to hold her wand…nothing more!
Hermione jerked away from Ron's hold and turned around to face him, "Just get away from me, Ron…" She said curtly. She thought she saw a flicker of sadness in his eyes before it disappeared completely.
Ron scoffed and made an unpleasant scowl by raising his upper lip; "You didn't say that to Edgar." He stated evenly.
The lump in Hermione's throat grew slightly as she murmured; "You know…you should probably shut your mouth before you say something that you're going to regret."
Ron looked at her for a moment with a stony expression. His jaw muscle was working furiously. "You're probably right." He said finally before looking away from her and crossing his arms.
Hermione's mouth fell open slightly at his comment as her tears began stinging her eyes. Her breath began coming in tremulous waves, and she suddenly felt like running down the hall and up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. She wouldn't let him see her cry, though…or run, for that matter. He still wasn't looking at her, so Hermione turned on her heel and started for the staircase without looking back.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm sorry for the cliffhanger! Don't hate me! I know I just said something at the beginning of this chapter about having writer's block. But I promise I won't leave ya'll hanging on cliffhangers... Pun intended... Lol... Anyway, there's some new glossary terms bellow. Check them out if you want! And please continue to read and review. You guys are so awesome, and I can not stress to you all how much I enjoy every review! Chapter 32 is seriously coming up!
New Whitman Slang:
Ta muchly / Thank you very much
brekkie / breakfast
rock up here / approach
plates of meat / feet
grouse / great
darl / darling
You away with the Pixies / are you daydreaming
come a gutzer / to make a big mistake
I'll be stuffed / exclamation of surprise
Fair suck of the sav / exclamation of surprise
rip snorter / something excellent
bodgy / inferior in quality
pozzy / position