Yeah, the chapter of the title is...well, I couldn't help it. I won't be able to post next week, so I've got three new chapters for you! Of course, there's this, and then we have a beta'd chapter 4 and 5! Hope you all enjoy it!
Hermione was cautiously optimistic as they returned to school after Yule. She was thrilled to be back at school, to see Hannah and Pansy and Neville - her parents always insisted that Yule be just the five of them, unless they had family over - but the Monster of Slytherin and Justin's frozen form were still fresh in her mind. She couldn't have forgotten even if she wanted to, not with Peeves's habit of singing about it in the corridors. He even had a dance routine to go with it. Hermione flinched every time she heard Peeves singing, the memories flooding back. Thankfully, that only lasted a couple of weeks before Draco talked to the Bloody Baron, and got him to threaten Peeves into silence. When Hermione asked why he had done it, Draco looked at her earnestly and said that it wasn't fair to her that she had to relive that memory whenever Peeves showed up.
Ernie MacMillian had gone on a bit of a crusade against Potter. And honestly, given the guy had been standing over Justin's body, Hermione couldn't blame him. Heck, Draco would probably have done the same, if he wasn't so firmly determined on keeping their group as far out of Potter's conscience as possible.
But, as January dragged by and turned into February without any new attacks happening, everyone started to relax, just a little bit. Maybe Potter, or whoever the Heir was, had decided to close the chamber. Slowly, life seemed to return to normal. Slytherin thrashed Hufflepuff at Quidditch as Draco raced Cedric to the snitch and won, giving Slytherin a 290-170 victory.
Come the Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw game, Hermione trotted out to the stands with her friends, instead of opting out like she normally did. They all sat out in the Hufflepuff stands with Hannah, and Hermione even wore yellow and black to show her support for the Badgers.. The grin that split Cedric's face from ear to ear when he flew out with the team and spotted her in the crowd made it all worth it.
Walking into the Great Hall on the morning of Valentine's day was like walking into an explosion of pink. Wreaths of flowers, arranged in heart shapes, were liberally slung across the walls, and little red floating hearts hovered in the air, spelling out cheesy messages. From the ceiling came pieces of confetti, steadily falling in waves of purples, reds, and pinks.
"This," Daphne gasped "Is the tackiest thing I've ever seen."
"Oh, so if it was a bit more tasteful, you'd like it then?" Pansy snarked.
"Just because some of us aren't in a relationship-"
Hermione cut her sister off gently, "Let's go back to talking about how tacky this all is."
As they sat down to eat their breakfasts, the confetti became a problem, especially for Theo, who had to pick bits of confetti out of the syrup on his pancakes. When the twins came in, George sat next to Ginny, and Fred sat next to Emmeline, who was working on putting the finishing touches on a card. She presented it to Fred a little after he sat down, and blushed a deep shade of pink when he kissed her in response.
"I've got something for you, but it's not until later," Fred promised.
About halfway through breakfast, silence fell over the Great Hall. Caught off-guard, Hermione looked up to see Lockhart, in robes the shade of cerise, waving his hands around at the teacher's table. Most of the professors were stone-faced, or similarly displeased. Professor McGonagall's eye was twitching, Professor Flitwick was desperately trying to hide his utter disdain at the display, Professor Sprout, who almost always wore a smile on her face, was frowning, and Professor Snape looked like he was in physical pain. Dumbledore, though, had a twinkle in his eye, as always.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all — and it doesn't end here!"
As Lockhart clapped his hand, about a dozen sullen looking dwarves marched into the Great Hall, carrying harps and wearing nothing but golden wings and diapers. It was more skin than Hermione had ever wanted to see on a dwarf. Ever.
"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"
Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick suddenly glared at Lockhart, before they looked at each other, and then at Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout. The four heads leaned into one another and started a hushed conversation.
"That's all!" Lockhart grinned. "Happy Valentine's Day!"
"Is he mad?" Theo asked, "Who would bring-why-just-" Theo let out an exasperated sigh.
Fred and George Weasley each had a gleam in their eyes. "Cut that out, right now," Emmeline barked, "Frederick Gideon Weasley, if you send me a single Valentine from one of those dwarves, you will find yourself very suddenly single."
Fred raised his hands, "I'm not going to send it to you! What I'm interested in is how it can be used as a public messaging system."
"I don't think the dwarves will care about whatever the singing valentine says," George chimed in, "Which leaves us a lot of room for what we can do with it."
"For example," said Fred, "We've got one of Lockhart's tests today in DADA. We can't have a test if there's an endless stream of singing dwarves the whole class period."
Emmeline pursed her lips, trying to suppress a smile. "Well, I suppose that is a worthy cause. As long as the Valentines don't work up Lockhart's ego, I'll pay for however many Valentines it will take to last a whole period, if the two of you write the poems."
Half an hour later, as the second year Slytherins were making their way over to Herbology when the flow of the hallway stopped abruptly.
"What's going on?" Theo asked.
"I'll go figure it out," Draco said, before ducking through the crowd and making his way up to the front. Without thinking, Hermione followed him up to the clearing, where Potter was standing in front of one of the dwarves, his bag split wide open and the contents spilt all over the floor. Weasley was watching on from Potter's side, looking horrified. "What's going on here?" Draco asked, coldly. "You're holding up half of the school, Potter."
Potter started stuffing all of his items into his split bag as quickly as he could, he cheeks as red as Weasley's hair.
Percy Weasley made his way through the crowd and up to the small blocked area that Potter was taking up. "What's all this commotion?"
Potter went even redder which was quite a feat, in Hermione's opinion, and began to dash off. Before he could get anywhere though a dwarf tackled the Gryffindor, his small grubby arms locking around Potter's waist. Despite the fact that the dwarf couldn't have been more than a third of Potter's height, he came down with a large crash, and the dwarf sat on top of his ankle.
"Right," the dwarf said, his cockney accent thick, "Here's your singing Valentine:-" he cleared his throat, before starting to sing, his voice sounding like a dying goat. "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, His hair is as dark as a blackboard. I wish he was mine, he's really divine, The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."
The corridor was absolutely still, absolutely quiet.
Hermione's hand flew to her mouth, to try and stifle her reaction, but a giggle flew out, and the spell was broken. The whole corridor burst out into raucous laughter. Potter tried to laugh along, but it was hard for him to seem unfazed when his face was the colour of a tomato.
Percy Weasley started shooing students away, "Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class, now. And you, Malfoy —"
Hermione looked back to Draco to see him examining a small black book, waving through the pages with open curiosity written all over his face. He looked back up, and his face hardened as he noticed Percy Weasley was talking to him. "Wonder what Potter's written in this?"
A hush fell over the remaining onlookers, and a multitude of things happened all at once. Potter lunged at Draco, reaching for the book. Draco turned away so that the book was out of Potter's reach. And Percy Weasley went very pale, before a strange green tint spread across his face.
"Hand it over, Malfoy," said Percy Weasley, his voice stern, but shaking. "Hand it over."
"It's not yours-" Draco said, before he was interrupted by Percy Weasley.
"As a school Prefect-," his voice much higher than it normally was, "I-"
But Hermione would never know what Percy Weasley was about to say, because Potter drew his wand at Draco, and shouted "Expelliarmus!" The black book flew from Draco's hands into the air, and Ron Weasley deftly caught it, and handed it off to Potter.
"Harry!" said Percy Weasley loudly. "Give it to me!"
"It's mine!" Potter shouted.
"Come on, guys," said Daphne, who had finally caught up. "We're going to be late for class."
As the Slytherins rushed off, Hermione bit her lip. "Why would Percy Weasley confront Potter over something like that? I mean he might be the-" she cut herself off, "Draco, why were you antagonizing Potter?"
Draco's gaze was far away, but he shook his head when Hermione said his name. "I've seen that book in my father's study. I'm absolutely sure of it."
"Then how did Potter get hold of it?" Theo asked.
"I've got no idea," Draco replied.
"Well he couldn't have broken in and stolen it," Blaise said, trying to laugh off the unease that had settled over them.
"No, but it could've been in the pile that we sold to Borgin and Burkes over the summer," Draco thought aloud.
Pansy snorted. "Potter? In Borgin and Burkes? There's no way in hell-"
"Language!" Hermione cut in.
"That Saint Potter would ever go into Borgin and Burkes, whether he's the Heir or not," Pansy finished.
"Are you sure it's the same book, Draco?" Theo asked, "I mean, from what I saw it looked like any generic black book."
"No," Draco shook his head, "I've seen it in my father's study before. I looked through it, and it felt...dark. I mean, not like normal dark, but like bad dark. And I don't pick up on magical signatures like that, not easily. So it must have positively reeked of dark magic if I noticed it. I'm telling you, it's the same book."
"Write to Uncle Lucius about it then," Hermione suggested, "Maybe he'll know more about it."
"What I want to know," Blaise said, "Is why Percy Weasley was being so weird about it? I mean, his face turned green. Does he have something to hide?"
The group went about the rest of their day with a sense of unease permeating their moods.
Determined to lighten up, Hermione went to the library. When she arrived, she noticed Cedric sitting alone at a table, waving her over. A smile burst across her face, and Hermione walked over to Cedric as quickly as she could without getting yelled at by Madam Pince for running in the library.
"Hey!" he smiled in greeting, "What are you doing in here?"
Hermione shrugged, "I've been having a bit of an off day, so I wanted to go somewhere I knew I'd feel comfortable."
"And then you saw me."
"And then I saw you," Hermione said, taking a seat. She peered over to the essay Cedric was working on. "What's that for?"
"Transfiguration," Cedric replied, "It's an essay that's due by the end of the week."
"Oh," Hermione went red, "I can leave so you can focus-"
"No," Cedric cut her off, and gave her a brilliant smile. "I waved you over here, didn't I? Besides, I'm almost done."
"What's the essay on?"
Cedric smiled mischievously. "What if I showed you?" He pulled out his wand from his holster that was hidden inside his sleeve.
"Constantly in your holster, huh?" Hermione nudged him.
"I like to be prepared," Cedric shrugged. He gave his wand a wave, saying "Orchideous!" From the tip of his wand burst a bouquet of Tarragon flowers, and he handed them over, with a flourish. Hermione went pink. In the language of flowers, tarragons meant 'lasting interest'. Was Cedric saying that his affection for her would last until she was ready? Or was she just overthinking everything? She didn't know if Cedric knew the meaning behind certain flowers.
"Do you know what tarragons mean?" Hermione asked, a bit shyly.
"Of course," Cedric smiled softly, "They mean lasting interest. Like how blue Salvias - orchideous," he said, giving her the blue salvias he conjured a moment later, "Mean I think of you, and how white roses - orchideous - mean that I am worthy of your affections, and how heliotropes - orchideous - mean devotion."
Hermione blushed as Cedric handed her the flowers one after another, "You don't have to do all this for me, Cedric."
"Of course I do," Cedric grinned easily. "You deserve flowers on Valentine's Day. Every day, really. So you - last one I promise - orchideous - forget-me-not."
Hermione was absolutely certain that her face was the colour of Lockhart's robes, but she couldn't have cared less if she turned blue, as long as Cedric kept looking at her the way that he was at that moment. "So," she said, attempting to return her face to its natural colour, "I take it you've been learning how to conjure flowers?"
Cedric laughed, "How could you tell?"
"Just a feeling," Hermione smiled. "So what exactly is the essay about? The theory behind it?"
"No," Cedric said, shaking his head, "Apparently Professor McGonagall is a romantic at heart. We're supposed to write about practical uses for the spell, and the meanings of the flowers that we conjure."
"Professor Sprout had us learning how to splice different plants together, and had us practising using roses and tulips. I guess some of the Professors do like to do special things for Valentine's Day, which is kind of nice, actually. Just not in Lockhart's way."
Cedric grimaced, "I think I've seen more dwarf skin today than I've ever needed to see in my entire life. Did he really have to have them going around wearing nothing but a diaper and wings?"
"At least you didn't have to see one tackle Harry Potter in the hallways, and then sing about how his eyes were the colour of a 'fresh pickled toad'."
Cedric chuckled, "We really have some poets here at Hogwarts, don't we? Real John Keats in the making."
"You know Keats?"
Cedric ducked his head, "I like poetry. Really Hufflepuff, I know but-"
"I love Keats."
Cedric looked up, a small smile working its way onto his face. "But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet."
"Tread softly," Hermione finished, "Because you tread on my dreams...Merlin, I'm so glad you like poetry. All of my friends absolutely hate it, but I think it's the most beautiful thing. How people preserve their love, everything they've ever felt, long past their deaths They trap a moment into words and it's like you can see it-" she blushed, "I'm rambling."
"No, don't worry about it," Cedric said reassuringly, "I don't mind."
They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments. "So, Mister Seeker," Hermione said, nudging Cedric's shoulder, "You did really well against Ravenclaw last week. 320 to 90 is pretty impressive."
Cedric grinned appreciatively. "Yeah. Didn't win against Slytherin, though."
"We've got a pretty good team," Hermione said, her eyes sparkling.
"I couldn't get you to cheer against your own house, then? Not even for me?"
Hermione laughed, "You make a tempting offer, but I'm loyal to my house. Besides, my cousin and one of my best friends are on the team. I couldn't root against them."
"Worth a try," Cedric shrugged, smirking "Although, is there any chance I could get you to root for Hufflepuff against Gryffindor? The match isn't until May, but well…" Cedric ducked his head, before grinning at Hermione, "I was hoping maybe you could wear one of my jerseys to the match. I know that we aren't like official and you want to take it slow, so there's no pressure but-"
"Sure," Hermione said, smiling shyly.
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