George's View Point
The DA was quickly becoming the highlight of my week. We'd only been at it for a few weeks, but I was having the time of my life. Fred agreed that it was fun as well, but he wasn't getting into it quite as much as me. He thought it had something to do with a pretty fifth year with semi-bushy brown hair, and made it a point to tell me about it as often as possible. I didn't deny it very hard. I didn't know when it had happened but Hermione had turned into a very gorgeous bird sometime in the last few years, and I had only just noticed. I'd always loved talking with her, she was a right spitfire and was great fun to argue with. Now I was noticing how pretty she was and I was finding myself making up excuses to see her, to talk to her. I was worried about how I was thinking about her more and more often, but I couldn't stop myself.
So I was now currently sitting in another DA meeting watching the said fifth year witch. Her hair was hanging down in loose curls against her thin shoulders as she listened to Harry give this week's announcements. My eyes got stuck on her curls and my mind started wondering what it would be like to touch one of those soft curls. She smiled brightly at something Harry said and my breath quickened as my eyes drifted to her soft, very kissable looking lips.
Merlin, I was going fast. I shook my head softly, trying to clear my thoughts as she got up. My eyes drifted to her legs, which were also very shapely, and I had to bite back an appreciative sigh. She had a small basket filled with what looked like Galleons and was giving them away to the other DA members. Fred caught my eyes and smirked, shaking his head softly. I just smiled and enjoyed my view.
She held up one of the Galleons, examining it as she spoke. "You see the numerals around the edge of the coins?" she asked. The coin gleamed fat and yellow in the light from the torches. "On real Galleons that's just a serial number referring to the goblin who cast the coin. On these fake coins, though, the numbers will change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you're carrying them in a pocket you'll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Harry sets the date of the next meeting he'll change the numbers on his coin, and because I've put a Protean Charm on them, they'll all change to mimic his." A deafening silence greeted Hermione's words. She looked around at all the faces upturned to her, rather disconcerted, clearly not recognizing the awe we were all looking at her with. That was another thing admirable about her, she had no idea how good she was and wasn't conceited on account of it.
"Well - I thought it was a good idea," she said uncertainly. A smile lifted my lips as I stared at her with even greater admiration. That was really hard magic she had done and she was afraid we thought it was lame. "I mean, even if Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there's nothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is there? But . . . well, if you don't want to use them – " I was readying a retort in my mind when I suddenly noticed she was being stared at.
"You can do a Protean Charm?" said Terry Boot with awestruck eyes. I immediately recognized the look in his eyes and felt myself stiffen.
"Yes," Hermione answered, completely oblivious to the look in his eyes.
"But that's . . . that's NEWT standard, that is," Terry said weakly. Fred caught my eye and shook his head slightly. I relaxed my hold on my wand but sent Terry a fierce scowl. We'd just found ourselves a new test subject for our products. Plus, being a Ravenclaw he'd know any way of breaking them. I could think of quite a few products that would wipe that flirtatious grin right off his face.
"Oh," said Hermione, looking embarrassed. "Oh . . . well . . . yes, I suppose it is."
"How come you're not in Ravenclaw?" he demanded, staring at Hermione. He was obviously trying to flirt and it was bothering me more than I wanted to admit. "With brains like yours?"
Hermione, still oblivious to his flirting actually answered. "Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw during my Sorting," she said brightly, "but it decided on Gryffindor in the end. So, does that mean we're using the Galleons?" There was a murmur of assent, mine was the loudest though. She smiled nervously as she came back over to me and Harry. She sat down and I smiled brightly at her.
"These are bloody brilliant, Hermione!" I whispered as she settled down next to me. Her eyes grew bright and she lowered her eyes embarrassedly.
"You know what these remind me of?" Harry whispered. She turned her head and raised her eyebrows.
"No, what's that?" She asked.
Harry got an evil grin before he answered."The Death Eaters' scars. Voldemort touches one of them, and all their scars burn, and they know they've got to join him."
Hermione blushed vividly before fumbling with her hand. "Well . . . yes, that is where I got the idea . . . but you'll notice I decided to engrave the date on bits of metal rather than on our members' skin," she said.
"Yeah . . . I prefer your way," said Harry, grinning, as he slipped hisGalleon into his pocket. "I suppose the only danger with these is that we might accidentally spend them."
"Fat chance," said Ron, who was examining his own fake Galleon with a slightly mournful air, 'I haven't got any real Galleons to confuse it with."
We all chuckled lightly at that before Harry told us to pair off again. Terry stood up immediately and nearly ran the length of the room. My eyes narrowed into a fierce glare as he approached us.
He ignored me and smiled at Hermione. "Hey smart girl, want to be my partner?" I stood up from the floor and walked up behind Hermione. She looked nervous and unsure, her eyes found me over her shoulder and she smiled at me before turning back to Terry.
"Umm, I'm sorry," she said, trying to sound polite. She reached behind her and grabbed my arm, pulling me up next to her. "But George is my partner." She turned around and, still holding my arm, led us away from the crowd towards a quiet corner. I smiled cockily at Terry when I was sure Hermione couldn't see me.
The lesson passed blissfully. Hermione was really coming along with her use of nonverbal spells and I was incredibly proud of her. She also was growing more relaxed around me. She laughed more readily and made jokes faster. I loved her laugh; it was light, free, and always bubbled out of her as though she was really vocalizing her happiness.
The session ended far too quickly and I found myself walking out of the room of requirements feeling depressed as I watched Hermione run up to join Harry and Ron. I'd forgotten she didn't actually hang out with me. I'd have to find some way of solving that problem.
Our first quidditch match was the next day, and I wasn't really looking forward to it. I loved flying more than anything in the world, but I couldn't shake this bad feeling.
"'OK, I've only just found out the final line-up for Slytherin," Angelina said, consulting a piece of parchment while giving us the usual pre-match pep talk. 'Last year's Beaters, Derrick and Bole, have left, but it looks as though Montague's replaced them with the usual gorillas, rather than anyone who c an fly particularly well. They're two blokes called Crabbe and Goyle, I don't know much about them – "
"We do," said Harry and Ron together. I smirked at that. They certainly knew lots about them; they'd actually even been them at one point.
Angelina nodded her head before returning her attention to the parchment. "Well, they don't look bright enough to tell one end of a broom from the other," she said "but then I was always surprised Derrick and Bole managed to find their way onto the pitch without signposts." Fred laughed appreciatively at her humor while Harry assured her that Crabbe and Goyle were just as dumb.
"'It's time," Angelina finally said in a hushed voice, looking at her watch. "C'mon everyone . . . good luck."
We rose as one group, shouldering our brooms as we marched in a single file out of the changing room. I hopped up on my broom and flew the lap around the pitch with Fred by my side. My eyes scanned the crowd quickly before I spotted the bushy hair of Hermione Granger. She was smiling brightly and waving frantically at me. I grinned, ignoring the chuckle from Fred and waved back.
The beginning of the game passed by in a flash. Fred and I beat the bludger away effortlessly, until we became aware of a song being sung from the stands.
'Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
'Weasley was born in a bin
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley will make sure we win
Weasley is our King.'
Brotherly protective rage filled me and I took it out on the Bludger as the song grew ever louder. It didn't help matters that Ron was determinedly proving them right. He was missing everything in his panic. He was a bloody good player, he just let his nerves get to him. Thank Merlin Harry somehow managed to catch the snitch and saved us from actually losing the game. We landed on the field with clear gratitude and I immediately made my way towards Harry to thank him for winning the game.
WHAM.
A Bludger hit Harry squarely in the small of his back and he flew forwards off his broom. Luckily he was only five or six feet above the ground, having dived so low to catch the Snitch. Fred and I ran forward, hearing Madam Hooch's shrill whistle, and an uproar in the stands compounded of catcalls, angry yells and jeering, a thud, then Angelina's frantic voice.
"Are you all right?" Angelina helped him to his feet.
"It was that thug Crabbe," said Angelina angrily. "He whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch - but we won, Harry, we won!"
Fred and I finally reached Harry and we shook his hand in congratulations as that git Draco said something. It wasn't until he was part way through that we realized what he was saying.
' - we couldn't fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know - '
We both stiffened at once and rounded on Malfoy with equal glares.
"'Leave it!' Angelina yelped, taking Fred by the arm. "Leave it, Fred, let him yell. He's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little –"
But that stupid git just kept on talking. The blood was pounding so hard in my head that I could no longer hear anything but the rushing of it. I unconsciously raised my fist and lunged forward, my only thought that I wanted to cause Draco as much pain as possible. Harry grabbed me, holding me back with surprising strength for someone who was actually smaller than me. Yet still Malfoy kept talking. I couldn't hear what he said-I was too busy trying to kill him, but suddenly Harry released me and the two of us were pounding Malfoy.
"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!" I could hear girls screaming, but I didn't care. Not until someone yelled 'Impedimenta!' and I was knocked over backwards by the spell did I actually stop trying to kill Malfoy.
"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch. I stood up slowly, glowering at everyone I could see. Malfoy was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody. It gave me a distinct feeling of satisfaction to see him in obvious pain. "I've never seen behavior like it - back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now.''
A/N: He-he, things are going to start heating up soon, who will make the first move? it's almost christmas time though, I haven't decided if she's still going skiing like in the book, or have her go with the others straight to Grimmauld Place, what do you all think? Don't forget to review, I love hearing your thoughts, ideas, suggestions, and comments.
Until the next chapter!
Ps. Thanks to Ninja Goldfish for taking the time to beta read this chapter.