Chapter Thirteen

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Passing Notes

A few days later, Parvati dropped a folded piece of paper on Hermione's desk on the way to the bathroom. On the outside it said: Don't show this to anyone! Hermione made sure she wasn't in Professor Snape's line of sight before she opened the note.

Roses are red

Vielets are blue.

It makes me happy

Just looking at you.

A heart shaped line of circles and x's framed the verse. At the bottom of the page it read: Don't show this to anyone under pain of death! Beneath those words was a crude drawing of a skull and crossbones.

Hermione glanced up. Parvati had left the classroom. She re-read the note. Vielets? she repeated to herself. She studied the handwriting. If the words had been written in cursive, she might have been able to identify the author, but they had been printed – something no one in the class had done since primary school. She ripped a piece of paper from her spiral notebook and wrote Who sent you this? with her quill. She placed it at the edge of her desk facing toward the aisle so that Parvati would see it on her way back to her place. Now, she would put the verse on top of her own note where Parvati could just slip it off her desk.

Parvati's note was gone!

Hermione lifted her notebook to look underneath. Not there. She shook the book thinking the note might be inside. It wasn't. Maybe she had accidentally knocked it to the floor when she got out the piece of paper. She looked to her left. No note. Down to her right. Nothing.

Parvati had come back from the girl's room.

Hermione swivelled to look at the desk behind her. Ron gave her a poke. She raised herself on her elbows to look over Lavender Brown's shoulder.

Professor Snape's eyes shot up. "Hermione Granger?" he said.

Unhooking the hair from behind her right ear, Hermione popped out of her seat. "Yes, Professor Snape?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No, Professor Snape." She sat down.

When Professor Snape returned his attention to correcting papers, Harry, who was sitting sideways in his chair, leaned across the aisle. "This what you're looking for?" he whispered and slid Parvati's folded note across her desk.

Parvati started down the aisle. She paused beside Hermione's desk, read her friend's written question, rolled her eyes toward Harry and shrugged. She thought Harry might have sent her the verse, but she wasn't certain. She slipped the folded note off the desk into her cupped palm.

At that exact moment, Professor Snape glanced up again. "What is going on here?" he asked, his eyes focused on Hermione.

Hermione bounced out of her chair so quickly she knocked her spiral notebook to the floor and Parvati into Harry's lap.

The class roared.

Professor Snape gave them a narrow eyed warning look. Then she repeated her question.

As Parvati struggled to her feet, Hermione searched her mind for something to say. Her instinct was to tell the truth, but she couldn't do that. If she did, Professor Snape would ask to see Parvati's note, and he would read it to the entire class. Parvati would never speak to her again. She opened her mouth, hoping there were words in it.

"I was just borrowing some paper," Parvati piped up. She reached around Hermione and snatched the spiral sheet from her desk, holding it up as proof.

Professor Snape squinted at the paper. Even from that distance he could see the red writing. Now he would ask to see the paper. Then he would ask what Hermione's scribbled question meant and Parvati would have to show him the verse.

Hermione held her breath waiting.

Finally, Professor Snape said, "If I were you, Miss Patil, I would borrow a clean sheet."

Everything was out of focus for the remainder of the afternoon – except Parvati's note. It kept popping into Hermione's head. She doubted that Harry had written it. It wasn't like him not to sign something he had written. He took great pride in his signature. He couldn't have a crush on Parvati. If he did, he wouldn't act so uncomfortable with her attentions. Parvati's wishful thinking, that's all it was.

Hermione glanced across the aisle. When Harry responded, as he always did, with a smile, she would know she was right.

His head on his fists and his eyes downcast, he was thinking of what to write for his Potions essay. He did not look up.

Hermione cleared her throat.

Still, Harry ignored her.

She stared holes in him. He never moved.

He had written that stupid note! No wonder he wouldn't look at her: He was too embarrassed. She turned her back on him.

"Psst, Hermione," he hissed.

She looked over her shoulder.

He pointed to his empty piece of paper and turned his thumbs down.

He wasn't even thinking about Parvati! He hadn't written that note. He couldn't hav written that note.

She smiled. She wouldn't even mention it to him. She'd been ridiculous to imagine – even for a moment – that Harry was the author of such a stupid verse.

"Alright, class dismissed," said Professor Snape, closing his folder with a bang. People began to pack up.

She leaned across the aisle. "Harry, how do you spell violets?"

"V-i-e-l-e-t-s," he said without hesitation.

Hermione catapulted from her chair. "How could you do such a thing?" she snapped.

Harry shrunk in his seat. "E-i?"

Hermione stomped out of the room. Someone called out her name, but she kept moving toward the girls' room where she thought she'd be left alone.

Once inside, she stared at her image in the mirror. She saw red: red ears, red face, red eyes.

This is ridiculous, she told herself. So what if Harry had written Parvati that stupid verse. It didn't mean they couldn't be friends. The important question was why had he written it? Did he really like Parvati? Or… had he merely caved in to the pressures in the class? If so, he wasn't worth having as a friend!

The door flew open and the girls burst in, all talking at once. The words swirled around Hermione like broken branches in rushing water.

"Mine is - "

" – all the same!"

"Who wrote - !"

Hermione's head hurt with the effort of trying to grab onto something solid.

Finally, Pansy's voice rose above the others.

"Mine is the original," she said, brandishing a piece of paper. "You all got copies."

"How can you tell?" Parvati asked. "They all look exactly alike."

Everyone held sheets of paper against Pansy's sheet.

"They wouldn't be exactly alike unless he used an original to make copies," she said, a patronizing edge to her voice. "I got the original."

In the clamor that followed Pansy's conclusion, the storm in Hermione's mind quieted. She glanced from one to the other: Pansy, Millicent, Padma, Lavender, Parvati. Harry had sent each of them the same note!

Feeling numb, she started out of the room.

"Hermione, wait!" Parvati called. "We're all going to hang out in the Entrance Hall with the boys after dinner. Meet us there!"

At the door, Hermione froze. She and Parvati had plans to study in the library after dinner. Once again, Parvati had forgotten. "Have a good time," she said and left the room.

She passed by Nevile on the way out of the classroom.

"Hi, Hermione," he said, smiling broadly.

She didn't answer.

She hurried along the corridor, past the dungeons, up the stairs, through the hall. Suddenly, she stopped.

Ahead, Harry was walking to dinner. With Ginny Weasley!