I'm back from vacation! A week away from my laptop/internet really seemed to have done well for me. I also got the news this morning that my favorite subject in school isn't going to be cancelled, which makes me super happy! My first official day of school is in a week, but September 2nd I have an 'introduction day' of sorts so we know what to expect of this year's school year. It's my final year, and I really need to pass all five of my classes to be able to do what I want to do after school, so I might have to adjust my uploading schedule a bit.

Hope y'all enjoy this week's chapter! Please remember to R/R!

Chapter 10

Bloody Bedsheets

It would be a lie to say that Rachel wasn't getting tired of the constant tension between Ron and Hermione. It seems that, now that Hermione had told Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt, Ron refused to talk about Hermione or even acknowledge her most of the time.

Rachel avoided this by spending her time with Harry and Zaine, playing wizarding chess or Exploding Snap (a game Zaine introduced them to) while talking about the Firebolt. According to Harry, Oliver Wood kept bothering him to get a new broom, and when he found out that he had gotten a Firebolt for Christmas, he seemed rather beside himself.

Luckily, classes started again, which was a good distraction for Rachel. During Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders. They spent the unusually good lesson gathering dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing and keeping themselves warm. Divination was less enjoyable; they had moved on to palmistry, and Professor Trelawney wasted no time telling Harry that he had the shortest life line she had ever seen.

At the end of their next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Harry, Ron, and Rachel stayed behind so Harry could ask about his anti-dementor lessons, which Lupin had promised him.

"Ah yes," said Lupin, while Ron and Rachel were scrabbling for the quill somebody else had left behind on accident. "Let me see… how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough… I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this… We can't bring a real dementor into the castle to practice on…"

"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" said Ron as they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?"

"I've no clue," said Harry slowly. "I hope nothing serious."

"Why so quiet, Rachel?" said Ron, and Rachel jumped.

"Oh—Nothing! Just thinking—"

Rachel hurried off, wondering just what was wrong with Professor Lupin.

Thursday evening, Harry left to go to his anti-dementor lessons, leaving Ron and Rachel behind to do their homework.

They were seated on the floor by the fireplace, keeping warm while sharing information on their History of Magic essay. Hermione sat at the table nearby on her own, hidden behind her books, and Lukas sat down beside them a few minutes into doing their homework.

"What's going on with Hermione?" asked Lukas, looking at Hermione with a concerned gleam in his eyes. "I tried talking to her yesterday, but she was very huffy when I asked her how she's doing…"

"She's just feeling guilty," said Ron angrily.

"About what?"

Ron scoffed and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Harry got a Firebolt for Christmas, and there wasn't a card from the sender or anything, and Hermione told Professor McGonagall, and she took it away to make sure there weren't any jinxes on it," she told Lukas.

"Well, that's smart, isn't it?" said Lukas. "I mean, what if it's someone who wants to hurt Harry? It'd be a good trick, jinxing a Firebolt."

"You know what, Lukas?" snapped Ron. "I need to concentrate. Bugger off."

Lukas huffed and left. Rachel turned to Ron.

"What was that for?" she said sharply.

"He's siding with Hermione, that's what that was for," said Ron. "Rachel, sorry to say, but I'm starting to like your brother less and less."

Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin narrowly won, which was good news for Gryffindor. Rachel and Ron were left on their own in the common room many nights as Harr went to Quidditch practices and anti-dementor lessons. They'd do their homework, and once they were done they would play wizarding chess or Gobstones. Hermione, however, was seen every night in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with schoolwork. She barely spoke to anybody and she was snappish whenever she was interrupted.

"How's she doing it?" Ron muttered to Harry and Rachel one evening as they were finishing up their essays on Undetectable Potions for Snape. Ron was looking at Hermione, who was hidden behind a pile of tottering books.

"Doing what?" said Rachel.

"Getting to all her classes!" Ron said. "I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Hermione can't've been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she's never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she's never missed one of them either!"

Rachel sighed and finished up her essay while Wood approached Harry. She packed up her stuff and went to her dormitory to shower and go to bed.

January faded into February, the weather still bitterly cold. The match against Ravenclaw drew nearer, and Harry had yet to get a new broom, staying behind after every Transfiguration lesson with Ron and Rachel standing hopefully at his shoulder.

"No, Potter, you can't have it back yet," Professor McGonagall told him the twelfth time this happened, before he'd even opened his mouth. "We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me."

One night, while Harry was off for his anti-dementor lesson, Rachel was on her own in the common room when she was suddenly approached by Neville Longbottom, who was flushed and stuttering. Behind him stood Lukas and Dean Thomas, looking incredibly hopeful, while Seamus Finnigan was working firmly on some homework.

"H-hey, uh Rachel?" said Neville.

Rachel turned away from her book, "Hey Neville, what's up?"

"Well—I just, uh… I heard that the—the next Hogsmeade trip will be s-soon and I—erm—I was wondering if you wanted to go with me to Hogsmeade?"

He said the second half of the sentence in one breath, and then looked hopefully at Rachel, who was a bit surprised and sat, unmoving.

When she didn't say anything for a few seconds, Neville suddenly said, "I—I'm sorry, it was stupid to try—"

"Wait, no! Neville!" said Rachel, calling back Neville when he made to turn to Lukas, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan. Neville turned, looking hopeful once more.

"Yes?"

"I'll go with you," said Rachel, managing a weak smile.

"Great! I'll—uh—I'll let you know when the next Hogsmeade trip is?"

"Sounds like a plan," said Rachel.

Neville nodded and turned around, hurrying up the stairs to the boys' dormitory with Lukas and Dean Thomas. Moments later, Ron rushed down the stairs.

"Is it true?" he said, hurrying to Rachel. "You and Neville, going to Hogsmeade?"

Rachel flushed, "Please don't make fun of him for it."

Ron's face dropped slightly at the tone in her voice.

"You don't like him, do you?" he said.

Rachel shook her head, feeling terrible for getting Neville's hopes up.

Several minutes later, Professor McGonagall entered the common room, looking around with the Firebolt in her hands before making her way toward Ron and Rachel.

"I don't think you two have happened to see Potter around, have you?" she said.

"No, Professor, he's with Professor Lupin," said Rachel.

"Very well. Good evening."

Professor McGonagall left.

"Do you think she's giving Harry the Firebolt back?" said Rachel excitedly.

"Let's go see," said Ron, and they hurriedly put away their things and left the common room. They turned a corner and grinned widely when they saw Harry carrying the Firebolt.

"No way!" said Rachel. "You've got it back!"

"Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?" said Ron.

"Me too, please?"

"Yeah… anything…," said Harry. "You know what—we should make up with Hermione… She was only trying to help…"

"Yeah, all right," said Ron. "She's in the common room now—working, for a change—"

They turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Neville again (Rachel wondered when he'd left the common room), pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance.

"I wrote them down!" Neville was saying tearfully. "But I must've dropped them somewhere!"

"A likely tale!" roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting Harry, Ron, and Rachel: "Good even, my fine young yeomen and lady! Come clap this loon in irons. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"

"Oh, shut up," said Ron as he, Harry, and Rachel drew level with Neville.

"I've lost the passwords!" Neville told them miserably, flushing when he saw Rachel. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"

"Oddsbodikins," said Harry to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forward to let them into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harry was surrounded by people exclaiming over his Firebolt while Ron, Rachel, and Neville were pushed aside.

"Where'd you get it, Harry?"

"Will you let me have a go?"

"Have you ridden it yet, Harry?"

"Ravenclaw'll have no chance, they're all on Cleansweep Sevens!"

"Can I just hold it, Harry?"

After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Harry, Ron, and Rachel had a clear view of Hermione, the only person who hadn't rushed over to them, bent over her work and carefully avoiding their eyes. They approached her table and at last, she looked up.

"I got it back," said Harry, grinning at her and holding up the Firebolt.

"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ron.

"Well—there might have been!" said Hermione. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harry. "I'd better put it upstairs—"

"I'll take it!" said Ron eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."

He took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the boys' staircase.

"Can we sit down, then?" Rachel asked Hermione.

"I suppose so," said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.

Rachel sat down next to a pile of books.

"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked Hermione, glancing at her many essays.

"Oh, well—you know—working hard," said Hermione. She looked really tired, Rachel noticed.

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Rachel asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.

"I couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking scandalized.

"Arithmancy looks terrible," said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.

"Oh no, it's wonderful!" said Hermione earnestly, and Rachel agreed with her—Arithmancy was an interesting subject. "It's my favorite subject! It's—"

Hermione was cut off by a strangled yell that echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring at the entrance, almost petrified of what had happened. Then, Ron came down with a bedsheet.

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what—?"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. Rachel squinted at the bedsheet Ron was holding, shivering when she saw red drops of blood.

"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N—no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.

Ron threw something onto Hermione's rune translation. Rachel leaned forward to squint at what it was, and then looked up in shock.

Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hair.