Chapter 5 – A Long Day
Hermione spent the rest of the day attempting – rather unsuccessfully – to divert Ron's attention from enquiring as to – as he so eloquently put it – 'what the bloody hell it was that she was hiding'. It transpired to be very hard work as whenever Ron determined to find something out he had a tendency to pester his unfortunate victim continuously until he was greeted with a satisfactory answer. (It reminded Hermione a great deal of the occasion two years earlier when Ron had spent the last remaining days before the Yule Ball trying to discover who she was going with).
By dinnertime, Hermione was exceedingly disgruntled. As soon as they sat down at the Gryffindor table, an apparently famished Ron began simultaneously stuffing his face with steak and kidney pie and harassing Hermione between each mouthful.
"Youshdeffnityhidensummotermionee…Dofforgesh, Inoseyo."
"Ron, if you're determined to go on at me all day, at least have the common decency to swallow your food before you continue your incessant whining," sighed Hermione wearily.
"Yeah, it is pretty disgusting, mate," chipped in Harry with a small smile. Hermione beamed at him, happy for the support and even happier to see one of Harry's recently rare smiles. He just hadn't been the same since Sirius' death.
"I said: 'You're definitely hiding something Hermione. Don't forget, I know you.' That better, mate?" grumbled Ron, throwing a disgruntled look in Harry's direction, who consequently looked down at his plate and became apparently absorbed in his untouched meal. Hermione saw this and glared at Ron menacingly, before jerking her head towards Harry and throwing him a meaningful look.
Ron sighed and nodded meekly. He knew as well as anyone that petty arguments were exactly what Harry didn't need right now. He needed consoling and cheering up. Ron searched his brain – as he had done many times over the past months - for something to take his friend's mind off his eternally depressing thoughts.
"Hey, Harry…have you heard the one about the toad and the quill-maker?"
"Yeah, you told me that joke twice yesterday and once this morning," replied Harry, looking up, a glimmer of a smile playing about his lips.
"Oh right," mumbled Ron, slightly disheartened. Several pensive minutes passed before he exclaimed, "I've got one!...Right, Harry, I've definitely not told you this one before…You listening?...Oh, don't roll your eyes like that Hermione, it's a good joke! Honest! Right…Why did the poorly wizard sleep with his wand under his pillow?"
Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. Ron had told them this joke several times over the past fortnight and it hadn't become any funnier since its first 'hilarious' telling.
"We don't know, Ron. Why did the poorly wizard sleep with his wand under his pillow?" they chorused obediently.
"Because he thought a spell in bed would do him good!" And with that Ron burst into raucous laughter.
Hermione groaned theatrically and went along with pretending she had never heard the joke before. I'm just glad he's finally off the subject of my little…secret, she thought in relief.
"So, Hermione…" began Ron, helping himself to a rather generous serving of the large pumpkin pie which had just appeared on the table. "What's this big secret of yours then?"
"Spoke too soon," she muttered quietly to herself.
"Whadidoojushay?" asked Ron, who had apparently forgotten his newly acquired table manners already.
"I didn't say a thing, Ron," sighed Hermione impatiently, suddenly deciding she had lost her appetite for pumpkin pie and pushing her plate away. "Mmm…that was delicious but I'm stuffed." She gave an exaggerated yawn. "Oh well, I'm exhausted. It's off to bed for me. See you two tomorrow." And with that, Hermione stood up and hurried out of the Great Hall without giving either of her friends the chance to raise any objections.
Ron stared after her with his mouth hanging wide open, unpleasantly still full to the brim with half-chewed pumpkin pie. After several moments, Ron spotted Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil staring at him in disgust and, scowling back at them, he swallowed his food grumpily. He turned to Harry, brandishing a forkful of pie as he spoke.
"That's the second time in as many days she's run off on us at dinnertime! What on earth is that girl up to?"
Hermione was enormously relieved to get away from Ron and his constant, unrelenting questions. She ran all the way to Gryffindor Tower, impatiently muttered the password ('Hinkypunk') to the Fat Lady and clambered through the portrait hole, extremely thankful to find the common room deserted. Feeling utterly drained and exhausted from her long day, Hermione plonked herself down in her favourite chair and closed her eyes, allowing the pleasant warmth of the fire to drift over her bringing with it a satisfying sense of calm and peace. Feeling a sudden movement at her feet, she opened her eyes to find a purring Crookshanks slowly winding himself around her legs. Smiling, she picked him up and closed her eyes again, stroking his smooth fur idly. It felt so good to be alone, away from her friends - as much as she loved them - and to be able to relax for once. Besides, she wanted some time alone to think about Charlie and the list of questions she was dying to ask him: What did he do all day? Why did he stay behind as a ghost and not move on to – well, wherever it was that dead people moved on to? What was his 'unfinished business'? And then the question she wanted to know the answer to most of all, but knew she really shouldn't ask again: how did he die?
Suddenly, the room grew cold - despite the warmth of the fire - , goose pimples broke out on Hermione's exposed arms and Crookshanks, purring loudly, dug his sharp claws painfully into Hermione's thigh. She opened her eyes and gasped:
"Charlie!...You frightened me! I-I wasn't expecting you to be there!" She laughed nervously, feeling a little silly to have reacted in such a scared way. She was supposed to be a brave Gryffindor, after all!
Charlie was sitting opposite her – in Ron's usual chair – his piercing blue eyes boring into Hermione's and his trademark grin lighting up his otherwise pale face.
"We've got to stop meeting like this!" he joked, in his cheerful, husky voice.
Hermione smiled, having regained her composure and removed the struggling Crookshanks' claws from her throbbing leg.
"Settle down, Crookshanks!" she exclaimed rather impatiently, placing the panicked cat on the floor and watching as he crawled underneath her armchair, purring softly.
"I had a cat once," began Charlie, gazing at Crookshanks reminiscently, almost fondly. "I called him Shivers. He used to get scared at the slightest thing and start shaking all over like a big furry jelly. I think the sight of a ghost would have killed him – never mind the nine lives!"
Hermione smiled, glad that she was getting to know a little more about her new friend. A sudden thought occurred to her.
"I don't know your full name! What's your surname, Charlie?...If you don't mind me asking that is," she added timidly.
"Like I said last night, Hermione, you are entitled to ask questions. I know so much about you, it's only fair that you should learn about me in return," he smiled reassuringly. "It's Winters."
"It certainly is," sighed Hermione glumly, glancing out of the window at the ever raging storm outside.
Charlie gave a resonant laugh, his eyes twinkling merrily, before saying, "No, Hermione. I meant my surname is Winters. Although you were perfectly correct in your statement, it is indeed winter outside."
Hermione blushed crimson. Of course he was referring to his name, she thought to herself, in mortification. Well, Hermione Granger, for a supposedly clever girl you really do know how to make yourself look like a fool in front of boys! She sought for something to say to hide her embarrassment.
"Charlie Winters…that's a…nice name," she finished lamely, before adding suddenly: "Hold on…I'm sure I've heard your name before…hmm…but I can't for the life of me think when or where or why!" She gazed at him thoughtfully for a few moments before asking: "Did you play Quidditch when you were a student here, by any chance?"
Charlie nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, I was the Gryffindor goalkeeper…" he began.
"Oh, like my friend Ron, he's Gryffindor goalkeeper now!" interrupted Hermione, pleased to have contributed something to a conversation about Quidditch, for once, and not noticing the shadow that had fallen over Charlie's face at the mere mention of Ron's name. "Gosh, yes," she continued. "That must be where I've heard your name from. Harry and Ron - " The shadow deepened slightly. " – are always being given detention by Professor Snape – and for the slightest thing, too, he really is horrid to them - and sometimes they have to clean all these old school trophies as punishment. Every now and then I go with them, just to keep them company, and they read out the names of the winners as they clean each trophy! Well, Charlie Winters. Did you win many trophies while you were on the team?"
Charlie brightened up considerably at this question and the use of his name. He smiled at Hermione warmly before saying:
"Yes, several in fact. I keep them in my hideaway, they're very special to me. They remind me of a time when the world was…more straightforward."
"That's nice," Hermione returned Charlie's warm smile. Suddenly her brain latched onto something he had said.
"Hideaway?" she said, blankly. "You have a hideaway?"
"Yes," Charlie smiled at her confusion. "I'll show you if you like."
Hermione thought for a moment. She looked around her at the still deserted common room and wondered where the rest of her Gryffindor housemates had got to. Dinnertime had finished long ago, surely.
"I know what you're thinking," said Charlie, beaming at her. "Where are the other Gryffindors? Well, I think I can answer your question... Before I came to see you, I saw Peeves preparing what I believe may have been a practical joke for the benefit of your beloved Professor Snape. Something to do with Fizzing Whizbees in one of his potions, I believe. If I were to hazard a guess as to your housemates' whereabouts, I would say they're probably down in the dungeons enjoying the show!"
Hermione grinned, she wasn't usually one to approve of Peeves and his practical jokes – especially when they involved teachers – but for Professor Snape, she would make an exception. With only a slight sense of disappointment at missing all the fun downstairs, she scooped the still shaking Crookshanks up into her arms, looked at Charlie and said:
"Come on then. Let's go and have a look at this hideaway of yours!"
A/N:-
(7 Jan 05): Hiya :) Thanks for the reviews! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Longest one so far! Wahoo! I'm just chuffed with myself for getting it done so quickly after doing the last one! Hopefully there'll be no more long waits for me to update in the future! Anyways, please review! Ta! Nicki x