It is a quiet lunch, far from breakfast. They sit there, no one on either side, eating their food as quickly as they can while still being polite. It is a variety of things but Hermione grabs mashed potatoes and steak for them all and they eat it without complaints. If Harry and Ron sneak some treacle tarts onto their plates, she doesn't say a word.
Ron eats with an incredible amount of patience. He waits a few seconds, watching Hermione and Harry eat before picking up his fork. His movements are slow but he is eating everything neatly. A quick glance across the Hall at the Weasley's shoveling food down their throat explains it all.
Few Gryffindors are there, slightly more Ravenclaws and a smattering of Hufflepuffs. Mostly all first years, upperclassmen eating later or earlier. They still have no one to sit with.
Their yearmates are bunched up at the front of the table. Theodore is whispering words that skitter down the table toward them, but they're too quiet to understand.
They ignore them anyway. The way he doesn't put any weight on his arm is enough for them.
Snape has an uncomfortably close watch on them, dark and thoughtful and almost worried? It's hard to tell what he's thinking from this distance, but Harry keeps one eye on him all the same. His fingers are bouncing underneath the table and he can feel the wood shifting, bunching up before smoothing out. It senses him, and he loves it.
Dumbledore is also watching the trio. His eyes, much colder and icier than they were before, never leave them even though he makes a show of looking warmly over the Hall. Harry eyes him as well.
But perhaps the most damning piece of evidence is the Weasley family, drenched in red and gold, slipping a several parchment long letter into an envelope. The eldest is the quietest about it all, fingers tight and bunched on the edge of the table. There are few people this early, and it allows them a clear sight line over the Hall.
The twins are loud and almost angry, with blue eyes narrowed down at Ron. He doesn't look up but there are knuckles turning white and palms marred with crescent-shaped cuts. The envelope is picked up by an old and thin owl which flaps slowly away, disappearing through a large window near the roof.
As one, they stand and walk from the Hall.
Their last class of the day is Transfiguration. It is close to the Hall and they walk there fast, few out in the hallways.
"The letter was to Mum," Ron hisses under his breath. His throat is rough and scratchy and painful. "I'll be getting a Howler tomorrow."
"No, you won't." Hermione's voice is sharp.
"You can't change what'll happen. I'm the first Weasley to not get into Gryffindor for around a hundred years. And she sends Howlers for detention, not to mention something as big as this!"
"Library. We can stop the Howler."
She is quite smug as they step into the classroom. The boys share a look over her head and say nothing, and a bit of the hopeless look in Ron's eyes flickers away.
They find three seats in the middle. The class is with the Gryffindors, and it starts in around five minutes. Not as early as Hermione would have liked, but it'll do.
The room was large, but mainly filled with desks and shelves. They lined the walls, filled with the most curious of knickknacks. Boxes of buttons, teapots, stacks of matches.
And a cat
It was sitting on the desk, perfectly still. A light brown with black tiger stripes down its back, and little silver markings around its eyes. Its gaze snapped to every student that walked into the room.
Harry felt rather like hissing at it.
The last couple of students trickled in, surprisingly quiet. They found the rest of the seats, pulling out books and laying wands on desks.
Finally, the bell rung.
The cat leaps off the desk and lands as a human.
Gasps flickered around the room as Professor McGonagall fixed her glasses, stared at them, and started the lesson.
In the middle of the classroom, the trio practically beamed.
The class passed without anything out of the sort happening, and they left the room with the promise of their first real spell come next lesson. Hermione was still buzzing, fingers dancing over the tip of her wand. It was slung up her wrist, and she flicked it in and out.
"We could do that. We have to." There were people in the hallway but she didn't care, eyes snapping in between them.
"Animagus," Ron hissed, eyes bright. "I bet I could find something that could help us in the library. Hermione? Do you know any books-"
"You guys go ahead."
They stared at Harry, eyebrows rising to their hairline. "What do you mean?" Ron finally asked.
"Go ahead. I have to check something out." Harry said determinedly, fingering the edge of his wand.
"We have to stay together," Hermione pressed. "Snape-"
But Ron saw something, pressing a hand to Hermione's chest. "Okay. Meet us in the library later today."
Harry nodded.
The pair of them turned around with a swish of robes and started back down the hallway, moving fast until they disappear around the corner. The corridor was empty now, students moved onto common rooms and the library for their free time.
A wand poked the back of his neck. Harry stiffened.
"Scared now, Potter? The snaky Boy-Who-Lived gone Dark?"
The voice was soft and hissed furiously, close to his ear. He didn't dare turn around, heart fluttering.
Why did he stop?
Oh Merlin, he was going to die and it hadn't even been one day-
There is a fist at his chest and his vision tunnels-
Something hits his face-
He walks quietly to the library, painfully aware of the looks he is getting from students walking past. They stop and whisper behind hands, eyes either narrowed with thought or wide with empathy or tilted with curiosity. He does his best to ignore them and walks on, head steadily creeping lower into his chest.
Madam Pince doesn't see him but Ron and Hermione did, waving their hands to invite him over to their little table in the back.
He walks closer, they see his face, and problems ensure.
He's got at least one black eye and his chest feels like something's broken. There were spells cast on his back and it burns like it's on fire. His wand escaped unharmed but his robe was ripped at the bottom.
"Harry!" Hermione yelped, jumping forward. Her hand presses against his chest and he barely bites back a shriek.
"We have to get you to the commons." None of them suggest the Hospital Wing.
It's an undefendable spot where Harry will have to wait at least a day in the room to heal. That can't happen. Yes, not taking him there will send the message that he can be attacked again but he can't be seen as a pushover. Slytherin will chew and spit him out if he does.
So instead Hermione props him up, letting him lean heavily on her shoulder. But Ron pauses, staring at the book in his hand.
"Can you distract her?" He murmurs, eyes flicking to the librarian.
Hermione rolls her eyes. "Yes, but make it quick."
Still holding Harry, she tottered up to the desk and pushed her eyes open wide. "Excuse me, are we allowed to check out books? Take them up to our common room?"
In the time it takes for her to answer, Ron has the book under his robe and tucked against his chest. He touches Hermione's shoulder and they walk out after thanking Madam Pince.
The walk to the common room took far too long. There were beads of sweat on Harry's forehead by the time they arrived, and before they went in Hermione raised her hand.
"Ron, take Harry. I need to go in first."
Harry grumbled but shifted his weight over to Ron's side.
Hermione marched through the portrait, shoulders straight and fingers neat and clasped on the edge of her robe. Her eyes flickered over the faces of Slytherins who either glared back or lowered their eyes. She shuffled forward, and Harry and Ron walked through.
They made a remarkable show of not looking like one was injured, speeding toward their room. The second they made it in, Hermione snapped the door shut and leaned against it.
Harry fell toward his bed, gasping. The pain in his chest had gotten worse.
"Robes. Off." Hermione stepped forward, snapping toward Ron. "Now!"
Harry didn't even struggle, panting lightly. Ron pulled it over his head with no resistance and, at Hermione's nod, removed his shirt.
There was a bruise already burning a deep blue in the middle of his chest. The edges were still red but quickly darkening.
Hermione growled. "Weak Bludgeoning Curse. No first year could do this unless they had training. You've already made upper year enemies?"
"Thanks," Harry bit out.
Ron snapped back to attention. "I have an idea."
He ran to his trunk, pulling open the lid. His book on runes was yanked out and quickly flipped to a certain page. His eyes scanned it at the speed of light.
"Wax!" He barked.
Hermione ran to one of the candles on the wall, blowing it out and pulling off the top. She threw it to Ron, who deftly caught it with one hand.
"Something sharp!"
Hermione paused before diving into her trunk. A few seconds later she had a quill in her hand, the edge brand new and thin.
Ron gripped it tightly and held the wax in his other hand, eyes flicking in between the book and the wax. He carved things into its still-warm surface, tongue in between his teeth. Harry was nearly biting his off.
But then he was done, and his button was in his hand and pricking his finger. He smeared the blood on the runes and pressed the wax onto Harry's chest.
He yelped but then stopped, face relaxing. The pure white wax slowly darkened, shading until it was a light grey. Then it stopped.
When Ron lifted the candle away, the bruise was little more than a red splotch on his chest.
"Rune magic." Hermione's voice was high. "That was-"
"Wicked," Harry breathed, gently prodding his chest. He didn't even wince. His eyes snapped up to meet Ron's almost bashful eyes. "How did you learn that?"
"Bill's book," he admitted. "I've been studying it for a few years. This has to be the fastest rune cluster I've ever done, and I haven't done that many."
Hermione let out a surprised laugh. "That was brilliant, Ron! Absolutely brilliant!"
He blushed.
"What book did you grab?" Harry asked, pulling his shirt back over his head. He left the robes off, folding them up as neatly as he could. The tear wasn't that bad, but it was still noticeable.
Ron slipped his hand up his robe and grabbed the edge of this book, bringing it out. He showed them the cover. Rituals for the Truly Magick.
"I'm going to learn how to do them." His voice was sure.
There was a tap on the do, much softer than the knocks of the other children. Ron slid the book under his bed just as Hermione walked to the door. She pulled it open.
Severus Snape stepped through the door, black eyes calm and blank. He looked at everything in under a second before his gaze snapped back to Hermione.
"Miss Granger." There was nothing in his voice. "It is time for your detention."
"Of course," she said mildly. She followed him out the door.
Harry watched her leave, eyes narrowed. Then his eyes flew to the candle. "Ron? What do the runes mean?"
"Oh! Well, this one-"
Hermione marched back into their room, a grin so wide it touched her ears on her face.
"How was it?"
She kept smiling, hands in her pockets. "It wasn't that bad. I just labeled jars and put them in the right place."
Slowly, she slid the door shut.
She pulled three vials from her pocket, gently placing them on her bedside table.
They laughed long into the night.
Hye guys! So this will be another one my not super updated pieces, but I will be updating it! Don't worry!
I'll probably be starting to skip ahead soon, going faster and faster. But Hermione's got potions, Ron's got runes and rituals, and Harry's got enemies! What do you think of that?
Also, does anyone know anything about Wizarding runes? I'm pretty sure that the use Norse runes, but I'm not positive. Also, do any of you know anything about Norse runes?
Second question! Rituals for Ron! The Darker the better, though not evil. Like ones to make him be able to run faster or summon shields.
Third question! What Animagi should they become? Tell me! I'm quite excited and with Hermione's potions and Ron's Rituals, they should be able to get it in no time!
Anway! Please read and review!
Frost OUT!