Chapter six: one minute to go…

Previously:

'See,' Harry told Hermione as he grabbed her hand to head towards the Hogshead, 'Neville likes my "spy-mode". He even said it was good!'

Hermione just rolled her eyes.

They stepped out into Hogsmead, creeping quietly and stealthily –at Harry's bequest. He didn't want anything to jeopardise this mission.

And he would spare no lives –even the happy couple –if it meant keeping his mission intact. He was determined to be a serious spy. And for some strange reason he also felt the need to associate "serious" with "ruthless". The very idea made Hermione struggle to suppress the urge to whack Harry hard on the back of the head.

But alas she had some sense of propriety in her blood, which prevented her from partaking in such an action. It often made her wonder if she was distantly related to Elizabeth Bennet. And then she remembered she was a fictional character, and hoped she could at least settle for Jane Austen, before she remembered she didn't have any children. It was at this point she face palmed, shook her head rapidly from side to side, as if to get ridiculous thoughts out of her head, and face palmed again.

For any such audience one such a day, it would have been an interesting sight to behold; Harry Potter attempting to run quietly whilst leaving no footprints as he darted from behind the oak tree to sprint over to the rubbish bin; and Hermione Granger walking behind him, utterly focused on her face palming and head shaking.

Harry Potter, once he had reached the rubbish bin, found himself becoming increasingly annoyed at his female best friend. He tried narrowing his eyes dangerously as she approached –but no, she still remained oblivious. Sometimes her obliviousness would drive him insane. And she would always just brush it off in an offhanded manner.

It was as if she didn't care. It was like she didn't even notice. She just continued to metaphorically and literally walk over his well-laid plans, like now. Because, through her consumption in face palming and head shaking, she was following him. And she would probably destroy his cover, and his mission.

She had to be eliminated; or at least distracted. Or perhaps he should just run for it. Too many choices, so little time. Then he remembered he carried a few stink pellets around or this very reason but that no, he would have to do away with that idea, as she was a central figure in the operation.

So what was poor Harry to do? Naturally what any slightly deranged and desperate person in this situation would do, which in case made him gather all his strength and courage, before turning to face everyone, carefully running through his words and actions at top speed inside his mind.

He took a deep breath; he looked around at everyone, making his or her way hastily to the hogshead, before checking his watch: time was running short. He realised, instantly, in that moment, that now was not the time for spy mode –he'd need that later trying to get back into the class room.

But no; what he really needed was something more efficient, something more directive. But if anyone dared to call his mode "dictator-mode" he would probably be tempted to avada them. Well no. That was taking it to extremes. But he wouldn't hesitate to expelliarmius them to the other side of no-man's-land.

As his eyes darted around the expanse he gradually released his breath, and with it he bellowed a few simple words of encouragement 'if we want this to bloody well work, get moving people!'

At his words several people rolled their eyes, but all quickened their pace considerably. Lavender even sprinted up towards him –calling out as she did so, 'so have you been taking on some language tips from Ron, Harry?'

Harry chose to not dignify her verbal jab with a response.

Finally the motley bunch of Hogwarts students reached their destination, but like most would under the circumstances, once they had got there, they would have no idea what to do with themselves.

And inwardly, Harry himself felt torn about what was to be done. He loved and cherished the idea of being a spy –it was probably why he had always so ardently held on to the idea of being an Auror – However he could just tell it wasn't working for him right now, which left him with the biggest problem: admitting defeat to Hermione Granger.

He had a feeling it was going to be particularly painful. However, after being ushered inside by Aberforth, He soon found himself getting caught up in the hasty preparations for the wedding ceremony, in which the most painful thing became the pitch and tone of Hermione's voice as she shot out instructions for everyone to complete.

It was really amazing what magic could do in about seventeen seconds. What had once been a grimy and dishevelled 'function' room at the Hogshead was soon pristine and adorned with flowers Neville and Astoria had transfigured using the bowl of peanuts sitting on the bar, and as Harry watched, he found himself praying he'd remembered to take his hay-fever tablet this morning –he had never quite found he mixed very well with nature. It could be quite a lethal combination.

Meanwhile, Hermione was working on a pretty advanced kind of transfiguration to modify Lavender's robes into something resembling a wedding dress, and changing Draco's at the same time to match, and not to mention changing everyone else's –it was a rather exacting and important task.

Tension seemed to have finally arrived; Lavender was started to hyperventilate, and Draco was pacing around the room at alarming speeds and Harry was running around trying to find a paper bag for Lavender as Neville and Astoria worked on distracting the happy couple, as Hermione quickly discussed the vows with Aberforth.

And harry still couldn't find a paper bag. He searched behind the Host's station, he searched in the cupboards under the cash register and after searching behind the bar itself he was still at a loss. There was no paper bag to be found. Finally, after numerous seconds had been wasted Hermione's voice could be heard calling him.

'Harry, have you got the paper bag?'

'No, Hermione, I can't bloody well find one!'

'Don't you use such language, and you are a wizard, aren't you?'

This time it was Harry's turn to face-palm. Of course, why hadn't he thought to accio or transfigure something into a paper bag? He blamed it on having to spend time at the Dursley's. It could really mess with you.

But finally, the paper bag was conjured, and the wedding ceremony could finally begin. Harry couldn't help checking his watch; they only had one minute to have the ceremony and get back to Hogwarts. And time seemed to be running dangerously close to wire.

A/N: well I'm sorry this too me so long to get up! Between schoolies/shortcourse/work/Christmas/newyears, and then losing this chapter and having to totally re-write it, it's done. And I hope it was enjoyable, as I realise the tone changed quite a bit between this and the last one… so enjoy :)

Thanks to XedwardismyromeoX, xXMizLilyEvansXx, Gandalf the Grey-Edelwiess, Lily Witchcraft and cancel21 for commenting/reviewing, as always, I love to hear what you're all thinking about it so far :) and it is much appreciated.