It's me again. This is a little bit of a filler chapter, I'm afraid. Sorry!
~Phantombookworm
Hermione, alone for a moment in an empty classroom on the fourth floor, checked her watch as she pulled out the fine chain of her time-turner. It was now fifteen minutes past five, just after her last lesson. She would have to turn it back one more time to attend her final arithmancy lesson of the day. From her bag Hermione pulled an apple that she had obtained at lunch and bit hungrily into it. All these extra lessons meant that she had to do the school day over two or three times every day, meaning she often found herself hungry at odd moments- like halfway through second period, which was actually her fourth or sometimes sixth lesson of the day.
Finishing the fruit, Hermione threw the core into the bin by the door and stood, bag over one shoulder, arithmancy book under her arm. She held up the tiny sand-timer that was attached to the fine chain and, very carefully, turned it once fully, and then another half turn.
Hermione always chose this classroom for time-turning in as it was always empty all the way through the day. It meant she didn't have the risk of appearing halfway through a lesson. That might have been difficult to explain.
Fred walked into the classroom just in time to see Hermione vanish from sight. He shook his head, blinking, and looked again. No, she definitely wasn't there. How bizarre.
Crookshanks though, had been tailing him all day. He followed Fred as he sat down against the wall and curled up in his lap. George, too, walked in and sat himself next to his twin.
"What's up with the cat?" George asked. "He's been following you all day!"
"I dunno," Fred replied. "Maybe he wants a reply for Hermione?"
"Perhaps. You could try it."
Fred pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment from one pocket and a battered-looking quill and a small bottle of bright blue ink from the other.
"Dear Hermione…" Fred said has he wrote.
"Dear?" George snorted. "That's a bit possessive, isn't it?"
"It's what she wrote on mine, and anyway, that's how you start a letter!" Fred defended himself.
Dear Hermione
I am glad that you reached Gryffindor Tower without further mishap, and avoided detention. I did not realise that Crookshanks was trained to deliver messages. He has been following me around all day, hoping for an answer, I think.
It was our pleasure to help you last night, and we couldn't leave a fellow Gryffindor in trouble- not when we could prevent it.
Next time, you might want to either leave the library earlier or get a stronger bag!
From
Fred (and George) Weasley.
PS. How did you know my middle name?
"That sounds okay," George said. He hadn't heard the postscript. "Not too obvious that you fancy her, anyway."
"George!" Fred sighed and folded the parchment. He sealed it with a tap of his wand and wrote on the outside: Hermione J Granger. What did the 'J' stand for? He shrugged. "Crooks, here," he murmured, brushing the furry cheek with a long index finger. The cat closed his yellow eyes and tilted his head back, offering Fred his collar again.
The Weasley tucked the note safely through a keyring on Crookshanks collar. "There. All done. Now go on, you daft ball of fur. Let us have some peace before dinner."
Crookshanks leapt off Fred's lap and padded towards the door. He glanced back, yellow eyes glowing briefly, before a flick of his bottle-brush tail and he was gone.
"Well, that's done." Fred sighed. "Now, what were you suggesting about Filch?"
George gave his twin an evil grin and started to speak.
Hermione finally left Professor Vector's classroom after her final lesson. She slowly made her way down to the Great Hall for dinner, her bag heavy on her shoulder. Another long day, over. And another pile of essays to do.
She made it to the Great Hall with a few others in her arithmancy class- Justin Finch-Fletchley, Terry Boot and Lisa Turpin. Ron and Harry weren't down from Professor I'm-a-fraud Trelawney's Divination class yet, which was a relief. She wanted to grab some more food for tomorrow without having to answer awkward questions.
Suddenly a loud purring noise emitted from the area by her knees. "Hey, Crookshanks," Hermione said softly. "What are you doing here?"
She glanced down the table at the Weasley twins, who had just sat down. Had they got her notes earlier? Lifting the ginger cat onto her lap, Hermione noticed a crumpled scrap of parchment with Hermione J Granger scrawled across the front in bright blue ink.
She unrolled the note, smoothing out the folds with her hands.
Dear Hermione, it read.