After they moved away from Draco and the small group of Slytherins, things seemed to calm down a bit for Hermione's friends. To get them to cheer up some, Hermione told Ron and Harry a few of the funny things that occurred while she was stuck to the Head Boy.
Fred and George's offer to help split the Head Boy and Girl apart gave Ron and Harry the biggest laugh.
"Typical," Ron chuckled as he held open the door to Honeydukes for Hermione and Harry. "Can you just imagine what they would have done?" He released the door as they walked past and he saw, out of the corner of his eye, someone else's hand shoot forward to grab the door handle.
"Thanks," he muttered, not really looking to see whom he was thanking; his focus was on Hermione.
"As is the reason we declined," Hermione was saying, as she looked around the candy shop. "I mean honestly, I know they meant well, but Draco and I would likely have ended up in St. Mungo's!"
Ron inhaled sharply. "Since when do you call him 'Draco'?"
Hermione shot the gangly redhead a scathing look. "Since when is that a crime?"
Ron went red in the face. "I was just wondering when you became so friendly with someone you thought was a twitchy little ferret face only a few weeks ago!"
Hermione stopped in front a display of hard candies in wrapped in orange and black papers and gave Ron a scathing look. In a haughty voice, she replied, "We're Head Boy and Girl, Ronald; we have to attempt some semblance of unity! Besides," she added, "we also spent nearly a week stuck together by magic. I think even you--in that situation--would be calling your biggest fear by its first name!"
"I'm not afraid of Malfoy!" Ron went red.
"Er, Ron," Harry muttered, slightly amused, "I think she meant Aragog." Aragog was the giant spider that had once been Hagrid's pet. Ron did not like spiders, so meeting Aragog in the Dark Forest during his and Harry's second year had not been very pleasant.
"Oh." Ron paused, trying not to shudder; for good measure, he added, "I'm still not scared of Malfoy!"
Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "I was just trying to make a point! You don't have to repeat yourself."
"Could you two stop bickering for a moment, please?" Harry interjected quietly, stepping between Hermione and Ron. "We're, er, attracting stares."
Sure enough, as Ron and Hermione looked around them, they noticed nearly all the patrons in Honeydukes were looking at them bemusedly. Hermione did an about face and marched as far away from Ron as possible.
"Why does she always have to be difficult?" Ron muttered, curling his upper lip. He felt like hitting something!
Harry shrugged. "Well, she's been through quite a bit lately," he said slowly. "Maybe we ought to be glad she's not stuck to Malfoy any more."
"I am!" Ron replied moodily. "But she's acting...oddly! I mean more than usual," he finished hastily. "I wonder...do you think she snogged Malfoy?"
"I...don't know," Harry said slowly. Seeing the horrified look on Ron's face, he added, "I hope not!"
Both boys frowned in disgust. Harry knew Ron had feelings for Hermione, though getting him to admit as much was about as possible as Harry passing Snape's Potions class with outstanding marks.
Ron shook his head to clear the images that had started to form there. "I'm going to go wait outside, okay, mate? You want to come with?"
Harry bit his lip; telling Ron that he actually wanted to stay in the candy shop would be difficult.
However, as Harry contemplated this, Ron seemed to understand. "Look, mate," Ron sighed. "I don't want to deprive you of getting something sweet to eat, so go on--I'll just hang outside 'til you two are ready." He began to turn away, but stopped. "Tell Hermione... I'm sorry, okay?"
Harry felt sorry for Ron in that moment. He watched his friend walk toward the door, then moved through a small group of fifth years talking about Acid Pops ("Look! It's put a hole in his tongue!"), to find Hermione browsing through jars or Pepper Imps and Cockroach Clusters.
"Hermione," Harry began, "I, er..." he stopped, unsure of what to say next.
"If you've come to lecture me about Ron or Draco," Hermione said tightly, not looking at Harry, "please don't."
"Oh! Oh, no," Harry laughed uneasily. "I wanted to say two things; first, I wanted to know if you would like to talk about anything, and second, Ron says he's sorry."
"Ron can't tell me himself?" Hermione asked, giving Harry an angry glance.
Harry chuckled. "Seems that way, doesn't it? Now I know what it felt like for you--being a messenger and all."
Hermione gave him a wry smile; she remembered when, back in their fourth year, Harry and Ron weren't talking--all because Ron had been jealous of his best friend.
"He seems to be the common factor in both situations," Hermione said lightly, taking down a jar of Pepper Imps. She turned the jar over in her hands, shook her head and gingerly place it back on the shelf.
"Hermione, I didn't just come over here to talk about Ron's thick-headedness," Harry paused as Hermione laughed. "I wanted to know: are you all right? I mean, really?" Genuine concern flowed from Harry as he looked upon one of his dearest friends.
Hermione did not look at Harry when she answered, "Yes, everything is fine."
Harry stood very still for a few moments, wondering what he should do or say next. Finally he said, "You were stuck to Malfoy for a long time. Did..." he paused, searching for the right words, "...anything occur between the two of you that you might want to talk about?"
The Head Girl inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. She thought about all the moments she and Draco argued, which didn't bother her so much, but recalling her odd dream and the awkward moments they'd shared--especially the more recent episode outside the sweetshop--made Hermione's inside feel strange.
Draco had been so close, close enough to kiss her! Hermione shuddered to think what would have happened had Pansy not interrupted them.
Would Draco have done it? she wondered silently. Would Draco Malfoy have risked his reputation and snogged me right in the middle of Hogsmeade--for all to see?
Hermione seriously doubted it, but a very tiny part of her had actually been disappointed. If Ron and Harry had been angry because Draco twirled me around, I can't imagine what they'd say--or do--if they even knew for one moment that I wanted Draco to kiss me!
She stiffened as a cold flash of reality raced through her. What am I thinking?! No! That is wrong on many levels! He's a Slytherin--and an obnoxious, uppity, Pureblood! And I hate him!
Of that last statement, Hermione was not so convinced.
The dark-haired boy pushed up his round glasses, but he did not miss the myriad of expressions that crossed the frizzy-haired witch's face. Amusement, happiness, followed by worry, then something Harry couldn't quite name, passed quickly over her pert features.
I really should try harder with my Occulmency, Harry thought to himself. Then I could really know what was going on with Hermione.
This was a great concern to Harry; on one hand, he wanted to know what Hermione was thinking and feeling, but if concerned Malfoy, it wasn't something Harry wanted to know--unless it was a matter for the Order.
But as Hermione is my friend, he thought fiercely, isn't it my duty to try to help her sort out her problems? Hermione was always doing the same for him!
Hermione seemed to sense what Harry was thinking. "I don't want to bore you with stories of Dra--er, Malfoy, Harry," Hermione fumbled over her words for a split second. "Please, let's talk about something else," she pleaded. "Have you had any news lately?"
She was, of course, referring to the Order's close tabs on Voldemort. Harry had been waiting to tell her about the attack on Kingsley Shacklebolt, and did so without hesitating. When he was finished, Hermione was wearing a frown of concentration.
"Why would someone attack and Auror outside the Leaky Cauldron?" she asked.
Harry shrugged. "That's just it; we don't know."
Hermione waited until two students--both of whom were ogling Harry--moved past; then she queried, "Where has Kingsley been lately?"
The dark haired boy thought a moment. "Well, according to Bill, Kingsley had been at Azkaban earlier in the day."
Hermione's brow furrowed. "You don't think it was a friend or relative of one of the prisoners, do you? Or, maybe it was one of Mundungus' more...inappropriate friends?"
Harry chuckled, "Spoken like Mrs. Weasley; tactful as ever." He sobered a bit, however, and added, "Ron thought perhaps it was a Muggle."
"No, it couldn't have been a Muggle," Hermione replied thoughtfully, "There's something else going on, I'm sure--something Bill didn't tell you--or he didn't know."
They two friends decided to change the subject once again, keeping up a light banter about an upcoming Quidditch match until Hermione chose a few licorice whips ("They're harmless enough, I suppose.") and some Chocolate Frogs ("I love them!").
After handing over a couple of Knuts, they exited the sweetshop, neither noticing a certain blonde, blue-eyed Slytherin lurking behind one of the glass cases--his piercing gaze never leaving the Head Girl's face.
*~*~*~*~*
The hooded man stepped off the train at Hogsmeade--a day early. Shaking out his long heavy robes, he realized he was not expected until the morrow, but that did not matter. Arriving early would give him a chance to look around the tiny wizarding village.
He had been in the area once so long ago, it seemed, but had not gotten the opportunity to visit Hogsmeade.
There were too many other issues requiring my attention, he thought, as he recalled his last visit. It had not ended well--as he'd been accused of doing something most heinous--through no fault of his own, it was later discovered. But what was even more tragic was that someone had died.
I did not know him well, the man said silently, but he appeared to be a good person--and loved by many people.
Which was not the case for him. He knew that many, many witches and wizards adored him and followed his career quite closely, but it wasn't quite the same; he did not know real love--from a single person.
"Though this summer vos quite nice," he muttered, smiling as he reminisced for a moment about his trek half way around the world and how he'd met up again with a certain Hogwarts student...
He walked toward the edge of the platform, his boot heels clicking loudly on the pavement. Looking out towards Hogsmeade, he wondered, What sorts of things will I find?
When his luggage magically appeared at his side, the man pulled out his wand and muttered, "Locomotor trunk." The large, sleek black case rose silently from the ground and hovered there for a moment. When he stepped forward, it followed along.
A strong wind whipped his hood off and momentarily his head and face were exposed. Hastily, he yanked the dark covering back up and over his closely shaven lobe, hoping that no one had seen him. He glanced around furtively, sighing in relief when he realized not a single soul had recognized him.
Many thanks for that, he sighed inwardly, turning his eyes skyward. What sort of surprise would I be if I had been spotted now?
It had been very difficult to keep his anonymity on the train, but he'd managed. He realized, in hindsight, that he could have flown on a broomstick, Apparated, or even used a Portkey!
Asking a porter where he could obtain an owl, he kept his head down, and disguised his voice as best as he could. The porter looked at him askance, but said nothing. This surprised the man; were dodgy characters coming to Hogsmeade a common occurrence?
Once the porter pointed him in the right direction, he heaved a sigh, then stepped off the platform. He longed to use the broomstick he'd carefully packed in the trunk, but doing so would only draw attention to himself--something the Headmaster was most adamant about him not doing.
..."If you are seen before I announce you on Monday," Albus Dumbledore had written, "then my special surprise will be for naught. Please take the utmost care in remaining anonymous until then. When you arrive, please send me an owl; I will send someone to fetch you right away."
He made a mental note to send an owl up to the castle; he was unsure if he'd be able to find a room for the night in the tiny wizard town, in any case.
So began the task of walking towards Hogsmeade.
As he caught a glimpse of the stately Hogwarts castle looming in the distance, the man's thoughts turned to something--or rather someone--different all together. With a small chuckle, he wondered, What she will say when she sees me?
*~*~*~*~*
Neville had gone back inside to Madame Puddifoot's, leaving Luna and Ginny standing in the street.
"That was interesting," Luna reflected quietly.
"Which part?" Ginny asked. "Neville actually standing up for himself--or Neville having a girlfriend?"
"Both, I suppose."
"What do we do now?" Ginny asked, more as a rhetorical question.
"Perhaps we should go back up to the castle," Luna suggested. "After all, we need to complete our detention with the Headmaster."
Ginny gave Luna an incredulous look. "Gee, Luna, we could have had that over and done with by now, if you hadn't decided that spying on Anya Borgin was more important."
Luna cleared her throat. "I stick by my original statement: there's a story there--"
"Which you will say nothing about!" Ginny cut in. "You promised!"
"I realize that," Luna said lightly. "You don't need to remind me."
"If you say so," Ginny rolled her eyes. "But first, I'd like to stop in The Three Broomsticks; I'm a little thirsty and a butterbeer sounds quite nice at the moment."
Luna raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain you don't want a spot of tea from Madame Puddifoot's?" She swung her gaze to the shop window.
Ginny didn't have to answer; the grumpy look on her face said what Luna wanted to know. Linking her arm with Ginny, the two girls headed towards The Three Broomsticks, Luna's peals of laughter catching the attention of several people, making them wonder what sort of students were attending Hogwarts nowadays.
Luna decided to regal Ginny with a few stories of her summer vacation. Each one--to Ginny, it seemed--was more outrageous than the last.
The redhead tried her best to seem interested in what her friend was saying, but she couldn't help but look around for Harry. She knew he was here somewhere, but where?
It took only a few moments to spot him; he was on the other side of the street, walking into The Three Broomsticks behind Hermione and Ron, Ginny's older brother. The Weasley boy was easiest to spot, as he had the exact hair color as Ginny and stood nearly a foot taller than his friends.
As though Harry could feel Ginny's eyes upon him, he turned and looked in her direction. When he realized whom he was looking at, Harry grinned broadly and waved at her.
Ginny went to put her hand up in greeting, but Luna, however, thinking Harry was waving at her, called out a greeting of her own and skipped over to join him.
Ginny stood rooted to the spot for a moment. What just happened here?
Harry, also looking thoroughly confused, smiled at Luna as she approached. They chatted for a moment, then Luna went inside The Three Broomsticks. Harry then turned to look at Ginny once more.
Ginny's heart slammed in her chest when Harry gaze fell upon her. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she moved forward to join him, her grin matching his own. She was so preoccupied that she did not see the cloaked figure walking directly into her path.
They collided; Ginny fell onto the ground. She looked up to give the person an earful of angry words, but the person was turning away, as though nothing had happened.
"Hey!" Ginny shouted, getting to her feet. "The least you could do is apologize!"
The cloaked figure paused for a moment, turned slightly and mumbled, "I vos at fault. My apologies." He then resumed a steady pace towards the Post Office, a large black trunk floating along behind him.
"Are you all right?" Harry breathed, jogging up to Ginny. "You took a pretty bad spill there."
"Yeah," Ginny said slowly, still looking in the direction of the stranger. "But I'm okay. Hey," she said, swinging her attention to Harry, "you didn't happen to get a look at that guy I ran into, did you?"
Harry shook his head. "No...no, I didn't. Why?"
Ginny shrugged. "Oh, no reason, really; I just thought that was Viktor Krum for a moment."
"Krum? Here?" Harry laughed. "Ginny, did you hit your head? Are you sure you don't need to see Madame Pomfrey?"
Ginny cast one more uncertain look towards the Post Office; the cloaked man was gone. "No," she replied evenly. "I'm good." She brushed off her coat, tossed her hair back and grinned, "I could go for a butterbeer. Come on, Harry, I'll race you; last person inside has to buy the winner a drink."
Harry grinned. "You're on!"
*~*~*~*~*
Pansy was getting angrier with each passing second. She watched as Draco Malfoy exited the sweet shop and followed Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley down High Street towards The Three Broomsticks. The trio had stopped for a few moments, while Ron and Hermione exchanged words, and--gag--patted each other on the back, then continue on their way.
Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent Bulstrode had decided almost right away to give up on waiting for Draco to come out of Honeydukes; they'd had enough fun for one day, so trekked back to Hogwarts with another group of Slytherins. Pansy could have gone with them, but wanted to know what Draco was up to.
As she watched Draco following along behind the trio of friends, Pansy wouldn't-- couldn't --believe that Draco was slowly becoming obsessed with that ugly little Mudblood Granger. That would never happen--not in a million years! Lucius Malfoy would disown Draco--and he knew it!
So what is going on here?
Pansy was far more irresistible than the uppity Know-It-All; why didn't Draco want to spend time with her?. One would think that Draco would be relieved to finally be unstuck from that piece of filth.
Maybe she's made him mad and he wants to get even, Pansy reasoned. After all, many people had seen them arguing over the last few days.
However, something else was nagging Pansy, something she kept trying to shove aside. What if Granger put some sort of charm on him? Worse still--had Draco been given a love potion?
This last thought worried Pansy a little. Little Miss Mudblood was proficient in Potions; everyone knew that! Or was it possible that she'd gotten some from those idiot Weasley twins, whom--as most of the girls in Hogwarts knew--were selling love potions from their joke shop in Diagon Alley.
Whatever it is that's going on between those two, Pansy thought with a frown, I'm going to find out.