A/N hmmm, should really be revising for Maths Mock tomorrow, but it's already a guaranteed fail, so oh well hahahahha. Hope you enjoy this chapter - and SUMMER'S HERE :D I am so happy! But I got burnt today :c

Chapter Eleven

Tensions between Friends

Amara refused to speak to Hermione after that. She was angry at her for running off o McGonagall and getting the Firebolt taken away. She knew that she was only doing it because she was worried, but it made no sense – how would he be able to get the broomstick in the first place?

Harry and Ron were angry at her too, so she had disappeared from the common room and gone to take refuge in the library, for Amara had seen her there when she popped in.

After New Year's, the rest of the Gryffindors came back and Piper returned to her Ravenclaw dorm.

Wood sought Harry out on the night before term started.

Had a good Christmas?" he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, and said, "I've been, doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After last match, you know. If the dementors come to the next one... I mean... we can't afford you to-well -"

Wood broke off, looking awkward.

"I'm working on it," said Harry quickly. "Professor Lupin said he'd train me to ward off the dementors. We should be starting this week. He said he'd have time after Christmas."

"Ah," said Wood, his expression clearing. "Well, in that case-I really didn't want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. And have you ordered a new broom yet?"

"No," said Harry.

"What! You'd better get a move on, you know-you can't ride that Shooting Star against Ravenclaw!"

"He got a Firebolt for Christmas," said Ron, unable to restrain himself. Amara rolled her eyes and walked off to see Ginny.

"You alright, Ginny?" she asked the second-year, taking a seat next to her.

"Oh, hey Amara," she said.

"Where's all your friends?" Amara frowned.

"Oh," Ginny giggled. "Harriet Jennings and Louisa Smith had a fight and they've ended up in the hospital wing – Amy and Joy are with them now."

"Oh," Amara giggled too. "Thanks for the nail varnish, by the way."

"That's alright – did you know it changes colour depending on your mood?" asked Ginny.

"Really?" Amara looked at her nails, which were a light grey, which was strange.

"Hmm, it seems you're sad," said Ginny. "Does this have to do with Hermione? I saw you weren't speaking with her."

"I don't know, look, Ginny, your friend Amy is back, I'd better go."

-OOOOO-

Classes started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. Amara enjoyed herself, for she hated the cold, and loved the warmth radiating off of the fire.

The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest life line she had ever seen.

In Ancient Runes, Roger seemed to be getting more confident now Amara had found out he liked her.

After their Defence lesson, Amara, Ron and Harry walked to dinner after Harry asked him about anti-Dementor lessons.

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

There was a loud and impatient "tuh" from behind them. It was Hermione, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armour, repacking her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close.

"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ron irritably.

"Nothing," said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder.

"Yes, you were," said Ron. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you -"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority.

"Oh do tell us," Amara snapped. "Because everyone should know."

Hermione sniffed haughtily and marched off.

"She doesn't know," said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione. "She's just trying to get us to talk to her again."

Amara was very irritated at Hermione after that. She didn't know why she was hinting that she knew about Lupin to Harry and Ron all of a sudden and acting highly superior, but it was getting on Amara's nerves. In the dormitory, things were slightly tense, for Amara refused to speak to her, meaning Lavender, Parvati and Sophie were all very confused. They seemed to side, without knowing anything, with Amara, however, which made her feel slightly bad for Hermione.

Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This was hard on Harry, for he was having extra lessons with Lupin too, which meant that he had one night a week to do his homework. Amara and Ron, however, were fine, and with a bit of encouraging from Amara, they managed to always get their homework out of the way.

Hermione's workload seemed to be taking its toll though. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted.

"How's she doing it?" Ron muttered to them one evening as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. Harry looked up. Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.

"Doing what?" asked Amara.

"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 MacMillan 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! And as well as that, Amara, you have Ancient Runes in some of the Divination lessons and she gets to both of those as well!"

Amara was itching to tell them the secret behind Hermione's timetable, but from the loyalty Amara still had for her, she decided to play dumb.

"I dunno," she said. "Professor McGonagall sorted something out."

Two seconds later, they were interrupted, by Wood.

"Bad news, Harry. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She-er-got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first." Wood shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, the way she was yelling at me... you'd think I'd said something terrible... then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it. He screwed up his face and imitated Professor McGonagall's severe voice. 'As long as necessary, Wood'... I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom, Harry. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick... you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy's got."

"I'm not buying anything Malfoy thinks is good," said Harry flatly.

As Wood walked away, Amara rolled her eyes.

"McGonagall has a point – he is too focused on Quidditch, I'd love to see him with a girlfriend."

"Nah, he'll probably marry his broomstick," sniggered Ron.

-OOOOO-

There was no break in the weather as January merged into February. Amara stayed inside most of the time – the cold weather made her grumpy and irritated. Harry had yet to order a new broom, and his next match was coming up fast. He ended up waiting behind every Transfiguration lesson to ask Professor McGonagall. Hermione always rushed past them, refusing to make eye contact, and Ron hovered at Harry's shoulder, like an annoying fly.

"No, Potter, you can't have it back yet," said McGonagall before Harry had said anything. "We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believed the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me."

"Sorry Harry," said Amara as they walked away and joined the crowds going into the Great Hall. "If I had a broom I'd lend it to you but..."

A few days later, Ron and Amara were sat together in the common room, trying (and failing) to get through a very boring essay from Professor Binns. The trouble was, Amara usually snuck Hermione's notes out of her bag so she and Ron could look up the information, but because they were in a tight spot, they had only written two lines each.

"This is rubbish," said Amara in frustration. "Who cares about this sort of stuff?"

"Well, the teachers obviously do," said a voice from her left.

Fred and George sat down on the empty seats next to them.

"Who's the essay for?" George asked, looking at Ron's pitiful attempt.

"Binns," Amara said, crossing her arms.

"Ah, yes, in that case, nobody cares in the slightest."

"What's it about anyway?" Fred asked.

"About the Wizard Council in the 14th and 15th Century," replied Amara dully.

"Painful," agreed Fred and George.

"Yeah... you know what? I'm going to do my Ancient Runes Translation instead, at least that's fun," Amara said.

"Fun?" Fred said, looking scandalised, his twin having the same look of shock on his face. "You like Ancient Runes?"

"Yes," said Amara. "It's one of my favourites."

"I think we need to save her Georgie," said Fred.

"Right with you, Freddie," said George. "Shall we grab her?"

"I hope you don't, Mr Weasley," came a stern voice from behind them.

The four of them whipped around to see Professor McGonagall standing in her emerald robed glory, clutching a broomstick in her hands.

"Oh!" George said. "Erm, of course not, Professor!" He grinned.

McGonagall frowned at them so they got the hint to walk away.

"Bye Amara - don't have too much fun!" Then, with a wink in McGonagall's direction, the two boys sauntered away.

"Can we help you, Professor?" asked Ron.

"Yes, have either of you seen Mr Potter? I have something that he shall want." And she held up the broomstick, which was Harry's Firebolt, looking shiny and new.

"You mean he can have it back?" Amara asked in delight.

"Yes, Miss Matthews, he can," said McGonagall.

"And there's nothing wrong with it?"

"No."

"Excellent!"

"Do you know where he is?" said McGonagall.

"Sorry," Amara said. "I think he's with Professor Lupin - he'll be back any minute though."

McGonagall nodded and headed back out the Portrait Hole, barking at two First-Years for being 'stupid'.

"This is great!" Ron beamed. "We can win the Cup for sure now!"

"Yeah," said Amara, but looked over at Hermione, who was swamped with books and it was obvious that Ron had forgotten about her.

Two minutes later, Ron couldn't take it.

"I'm going to find him," he said and jumped out of the portrait hole.

Amara waited three seconds before walking over to Hermione's tables and taking a seat.

"Hello," she said.

Hermione jumped and looked up.

"Oh, hello,"

"The Firebolt is fine," Amara said. "But I'm sorry for being angry at you, I know you were being caring."

"That's alright," said Hermione. "I don't know how you're all so into Quidditch, though."

"You wouldn't understand," grinned Amara as the portrait opened and a beaming Harry and Ron walked in, holding the Firebolt in his hands.

The common room gaped at it and broke out in whispers.

"A Firebolt?" Amara heard a fourth year girl whisper. "We're going to win for sure!"

"Where did you get it, Harry?"

"Ravenclaw'll have no chance - they're all on Cleensweep Sevens!"

"Can I just hold it, Harry?"

Harry and Ron made their way over to where Amara and Hermione were sitting.

"I got it back," Harry grinned.

"See Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!"

"Ron!" frowned Amara. "Don't be so horrible! There might've been!"

Ron scowled at her.

"I suppose there could ..." Harry said. "I'd better put it upstairs-"

"I'll take it!" said Rob eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his Rat Tonic."

He held the Firebolt like it was the most precious thing he'd ever held as he walked away.

"Can I sit down, too?" Harry asked her.

"Sit here," instructed Amara, shoving a stack of books off a chair.

"How are you getting through this stuff?" Harry asked as he looked through various essays.

"Oh well - you know - working hard," Hermione said and Amara realised how tired she looked.

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

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

"Here, borrow mine," Amara said, getting hers and putting it on the desk. She looked at her boring looking Arithmancy essay.

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

"Oh no, it's wonderful!" said Hermione earnestly. "It's my favourite subject! It's -"

But at that moment, a horrified yell came tumbling down the boys staircase, echoing around the room and making everyone freeze and look, scared, up the stairs. All was silent as a thumping reached their ears. Ron stormed back into the Common room, dragging with him his bed sheet.

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table.

"LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what -?"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

Amara leaned away from Ron, her face very pale. She looked at the sheet that was being shaken in front of Hermione. At the bottom of it, there was two red splotches on it. And with a gulp, Amara saw that it was most definitely blood.

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

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

Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. Amara, Hermione and Harry leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.