Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Resuscitation of Agapé ❯ The Swing of Things ( Chapter 2 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: jessica_x 
...in which term begins, Harry confronts Hermione, and Cho approaches him in the hall.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Romance / Drama | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 06.24.2004 | Pages: 4 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 736 | Status: Completed
...in which term begins, Harry confronts Hermione, and Cho approaches him in the hall.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Romance / Drama | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 06.24.2004 | Pages: 4 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 736 | Status: Completed
Harry Potter and the Resuscitation of Agapé
Year 6 (ehrm, the beta version?) at Hogwarts
by Jessica X
*****
LEGAL NOTICE: Harry Potter, all names, characters, and related concepts are ©1997 J.K. Rowling. And I guess Warner Bros., even though they're merely milking her grand idea. This work of fiction and all concepts unique to it are ©2004 by Jessica X. Rated M for Mature, or whatever; not a lemon, but it does have adult themes that will show up later.
SPOILER WARNING: As you should have guessed, this being "Year 6", this fiction will contain no end of spoilers for the preceeding five books. You have been warned; if you're uncomfortable with this, GO READ THEM FIRST!!!! PLEASE, I assure you, they're really good!
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Do not get used to this. I know it hasn't been long since I put the first chapter up, and already here's the second! That's because when I posted chapter one, I already had four and a half chapters written.
*****
~*~ Chapter Two: The Swing of Things
"Welcome back to Hogwarts!"
The chatter that had filled the Great Hall following the sorting of the new students died quickly as Albus Dumbledore spoke.
"A few words before we lose ourselves in our mouthwatering feast. Our first years should note that the forest on the grounds is off limits to all students. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has amended his list of illegal items to include anything from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, an amusing joke shop in Diagon Alley. This list can be found hanging outside his office door."
Almost everyone at the Gryffindor table exchanged grins, as did several students at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables.
"Finally, on a more serious note, the return of Voldemort-" several students and a few teachers flinched "-to power has impressed upon the staff the need to gird our minds and strengthen our skills. As much as I hope I am mistaken, I fear dark times are ahead for all of us. It saddens me that the applicants for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position were, shall we say... nonexistant. However, as I have just stated, there is nothing we could be learning that is more important at such an hour." The headmaster sighed heavily, straightened the half-moon spectacles on his crooked nose, and continued.
"That said, allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... me."
There was a brief, shocked silence, followed immediately with a rush of murmurs.
"Settle down, settle down," he said quietly, and a hush fell over the room once again. "A move such as this is uncommon, I know, but there really wasn't much of an alternative. The idea actually came to me from a previous teacher of said subject. After all, if dear Professor Umbridge was up to the task of both of these AND High Inquisitor, I can only hope to do as... well as she."
A few students laughed nervously, and Dumbledore smiled.
"Enough of my ramblings. Tuck in!"
And as he said this, the golden platters in front of them filled with tantalizing dishes.
"Dobby's mates really outdid themselves," Ron managed around a mouthful of potato. "So, what d'you reckon? I mean, Dumbledore teaching?"
"He's taught before," Harry said, helping himself to turkey dressing. "But his subject was Transfiguration back in those days."
"I'm sure he's more than qualified," Neville put in.
"Snape looked livid when Dumbledore was telling us," Seamus said, nodding toward the high table. "Poor git got passed up again."
"Snape always looks like that," Ron said offhandedly.
"But surely Dumbledore could've found SOMEONE to take the job?" Harry's eyes lit up. "An Auror, or-"
"They're all too busy," Ron said. "Tonks stopped by The Burrow twice all summer, for about five minutes each."
"It's obvious why no one wanted to take the job," Hermione said shortly, pouring more pumpkin juice into her goblet.
"Yeah, 'cause it's cursed," Dean Thomas said promptly.
"Beyond that," she said. "Now they know Voldemort's back - Ron, get over it, already! - even less people want to risk helping Dumbledore outright. They don't want Voldemort to see them as a threat, or even a more appealing target."
"Chicken-hearts," Ron mumbled, reaching for a chicken breast.
After they had all had their fill, Dumbledore stood again and dismissed them. As they were ascending the great marble stairs, Harry caught sight of Cho.
She stopped, and several Ravenclaw second years bumped into her from behind. She stared straight at him, biting her dark, shimmering hair absentmindedly, then glanced somewhere right behind him. He turned to see Hermione standing there, piercing Cho with a determined look. As he turned to look at Cho again, he saw only the back of her head as she disappeared into the crowd.
"What was that business about?" he said, continuing up the stairs.
"You'll find out soon enough," Hermione muttered. "At least, I hope so."
He rounded on her. "Does this have anything to do with what you-"
Hermione had whipped a finger to her lips, a look of panic breaking out on her face. Harry nodded curtly, then rejoined the procession to Gryffindor tower.
As they entered the common room ("Portable Swamp" was the password, which they all thought was brilliant), Harry immediately pulled Hermione over to their favourite squashy armchairs by the fireplace.
"All right, explain yourself," he demanded in a low voice.
"Harry-"
"What are you on about? And what in the bloody freaking hell are you and Cho up to?!"
"Harry, it's not-"
"I barely caught a wink last night, I was too busy wondering what was wrong with y-"
"SHUT UP!"
He was so startled to hear her hiss at him like that, and to see how badly she was shaking with mingled frustration and fear, that he fell silent obediently.
"Not... here..." she whispered, her eyes bulging slightly. "Please, I'm begging you for the last time, drop it! I'll tell you everything, I promise, but not now, and not here!"
He still had no idea what was going on, but seeing her like that - so utterly distraught, counting on him, pleading with him...
"Okay. You're driving me mad, you know, but... okay."
She smiled weakly, then made to get up.
"Wait, where are you going? We can still-"
"No, we can't," she said, rather abruptly. "I'm sorry, Harry... I know I'm being a bit rude, but... I think I need to be alone for a while. I'll... I'll see you at breakfast."
And then she was ascending the stairs to the girls' dormitories, and Harry was staring after her, utterly vexed.
"What was that all about?"
He looked up and was startled to see Ron and Ginny sitting down.
"I... I don't really know, to be honest. I guess she was just tired."
"Hmm." Ron shrugged, then reached into his pocket. "Fizzing Whizbee? I think I've got a few left..."
~*~
Harry's sleep was not restful, and was fraught with strange dreams, including one where a house-elf with Hermione's face kept trying to tell him something, then started pelting herself with Fizzing Whizbees. As a result, he was distinctly groggy at breakfast.
"You look like a Skrewt got hold of you," Neville said. "What's up?"
"Kept having stupid dreams," he mumbled, spreading jam on his toast.
"I had one, too," Seamus said, putting down his orange juice. "You-Know-Who came flying out of the fireplace at me mam, but then Harry popped out of a dustbin and started throwing Pumpkin Pasties at him."
"Bet that sorted him," Harry said, grinning sleepily.
"I guess so, as then he turned into a giraffe."
"Blimey," Ron breathed, staring at the new schedules they'd just been handed. "Double Potions, first thing! Why, oh why did I actually study for that O.W.L.? I could've been rid of Snape forever!"
~*~
The day passed without any noteworthy events (he received a zero from Snape, which was on par). It also passed without Hermione; she seemed to turn up just in time for class, did her best to pretend they weren't there during, and disappeared just afterward. Harry was not the only one to notice this.
"Where's she running off to?" Ron said loudly.
Harry shrugged. "Let's check the library."
Oddly enough, she wasn't there, as they discovered several minutes later. They checked the common room, the Great Hall, the Room of Requirement (more on accident than anything; they'd gone past its hidden location a few times when its door suddenly appeared), and even Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, whose sole occupant proceeded to drift in Harry's wake for a bit before returning to her U-bend.
"Can I make the toast at your wedding reception?" Ron goaded him.
"Shut up."
They finally abandoned the search, and were walking into the Great Hall to inhale a few bites of something before next period, when they found Hermione already seated at the Gryffindor table, her head down, bolting down food.
"Hermione!" Harry called as they approached. She started, dropping some of whatever was on her fork into her glass.
"Hi!" she said, sounding a tad over-cheerful. A bit of sauce was clinging to her cheek. Harry motioned his finger across the corresponding spot on his face, and she blushed and wiped it off with her napkin.
"Are you avoiding us?" Ron asked bluntly.
"No," she said, not meeting his eyes. "I've just been for a walk around the castle. I wanted to see the grounds, get some fresh air."
"Come off it," he persisted. "What're you really...?"
But she was already striding out of the hall, leaving behind a plate of half-finished macaroni and cheese.
"What's she playing at?" Ron said a few minutes later between bites of a pastrami sandwich. "We've got Care of Magical Creatures next, and she's on about getting fresh air."
As they walked through the grass toward Hagrid's hut, they saw Hermione conversing with him. He looked up when he noticed the movement.
"All righ', Harry?" he called out cheerily. "Ron?"
"All right," Ron called back, grinning. But even as he said this, Hermione moved away from Hagrid and closer to a cluster of crates, presumably to investigate their contents. Harry couldn't help agreeing with Ron; she was determined to talk to them as little as possible.
~*~
"It's been nice chatting with you," Ron said loudly as they attempted to keep pace with her on the way back to the castle, and failed. "See you next term, then?"
"What d'you reckon?" Neville asked, nursing a slight scratch the kneazle he'd been feeding had given him.
"Who knows?" Harry said as they reached the heavy oak doors into the castle. Of course, he did know, but a promise was a promise.
As they queued up for Defense Against the Dark Arts, however, Hermione walked up to them and said "Hello" somewhat formally.
"Don't give us that!" Ron snapped.
"What's the matter?" she asked innocently.
"What's the matter with YOU?" he bellowed. "You ruddy well know you've been ignoring us since last night! What's got into you that you can't talk to us anymore?"
As he watched Hermione begin to squirm, a sudden idea came to Harry.
"Look," he began heatedly, winking so as only Hermione could see it, "I'm sorry I called you that, but I swear I didn't mean to! Besides, 'Hermy' is a right cute little nickname, and I'd appreciate it if you quit acting like such a prat about it!"
To his relief, she caught on as soon as he'd said "Hermy". She winked back, then acted as if she was thinking it over for a moment before half-shouting a response.
"Well, I accept your apology, then, but I'll thank you never to make that mistake again!"
Ron stared blankly.
"That's what all this was about? I've been put through all this grief over a NICKNAME?!"
"I don't want YOU using it, either!" she yelled, rounding on him. "It's revolting, and I don't appreciate it!"
"'Hermy'?" Neville whispered in Harry's ear.
Then the door clicked open of its own accord, and they began filing into the classroom, Ron shaking his head and muttering something like "off her nut". As they neared the entrance, Harry felt a hand squeeze his. He looked to his left, and saw Hermione beaming at him, mouthing the words "thank you".
As they sat waiting for the lesson to begin, she slipped him a bit of parchment under their desks. Taking great care not to let anyone see it (particularly Ron), and pretending to be browsing his textbook, he read the hastily scribbled note:
"That was brilliant! But did you have to tell everybody that awful nickname? Anyway, I owe you one, and I mean it. First Hogsmeade weekend, bring your cloak."
Harry crumpled it up and shoved it into his pocket. He could only guess it meant she was going to tell him what was up then. It made sense; the village of Hogsmeade had a few more places to hold a private conversation, ones that most Hogwarts students wouldn't know about. But why must he wait that long to find out, and why on earth did she want him to bring the Invisibility Cloak?
Before he could develop any further hypotheses, there was a POP!, a flash of fire, and Professor Dumbledore was suddenly seated behind the teacher's desk, a brilliant crimson feather in his hat.
"Good afternoon, class," he said pleasantly. A few students returned the greeting.
"Today, a simple proficiency quiz. Nothing to worry about," he soothed, preemptively stifling the collective groan before it began, "just a test to assess what we already know so I can pick up from there... though I do already have a general idea of what you're capable of. Begin."
And with that, rolls of parchment appeared on the desks in front of them. As the quills began scratching away, Harry smiled. He was quite sure most of the class would get high marks, due to their little club last year. He unscrewed his inkwell, dipped his quill in it, and started in.
~*~
The first two weeks of term went rather quickly and with little incident; Harry's death was predicted predictably in Divination, which was now being joint-taught by Professors Trelawny and Firenze; the dog he'd been attempting to Transfigure into a chair barked when sat in, but was otherwise fine; Harry actually managed to scrape a decent grade on a Memory-Sharpening Draught (mostly due to sampling Hermione's before his second attempt); and most importantly, Hermione was acting normally again, hounding them about their already-mounting load of homework and wondering what they'd done with the planner books she'd given them.
"Mine's propping up a wobbly table leg at the Burrow," Ron confessed to him when she was out of earshot.
Without the presence of Angelina Johnson, the duty of Quidditch captain had somehow ended in Ginny's lap. With Harry and his Firebolt back in the Seeker position, she was now the lead - and only - Chaser, and she was very anxious about the upcoming team tryouts.
"What if no one good shows up?" she said to him one afternoon in their third week. "We already got stuck with Kirke and Sloper, Merlin knows we can't handle any more crappy players. The Cup may rest on your shoulders."
He idly asked Seamus and Dean if they'd be trying out, but they already had positions of sorts.
"We're talking over for Lee Jordan as commentators!" Seamus said, grinning. "McGonagall asked us last week!"
And so Harry found himself heading toward the Charms classroom, mind filled with dread for the future of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, when he ploughed headlong into Cho Chang.
"Watch- oh, hi," she said, noticing who'd almost killed her.
"Cho! Sorry, er, my fault, I wasn't-"
"It's okay, you don't have to..."
She trailed off, looking at the floor.
"Speaking of apologies, Harry..."
"Yeah... I got your letter."
"I really am, though," she said, her eyes pleading. "I was being so silly about you and Hermione Granger."
"We've only ever been friends, you know."
"Yeah, so she said."
His brow furrowed. "She said...?"
"She sent me an owl over the summer... said she kept thinking about us, you and I, and how things had ended last year. Said she wanted to set the record straight and all."
Harry smiled. He guessed that both him and Hermione telling her they weren't snogging at every spare moment had more impact than just one of them telling her. The letter had done the trick, alright.
"That one squares us," he muttered.
"Hmm?"
"Nothing, nevermind. So, er... have a good summer?"
"It was okay. Look," she said, shifting uneasily. "We both may have said some things we regret last year, and-"
"Yeah," Harry said, scuffing the ground with his shoe. "I was acting like a git last year, wasn't I?"
"No, no, I was the-"
"Come on, we can find better things to fight over than who's the bigger idiot," he said with a grin.
Cho beamed at him. "Start fresh, then?" She held out her hand.
"Sure."
As he took her hand to shake it, she suddenly darted forward and pecked him on the cheek, then scampered down the hall, failing to supress a fit of giggles.
"I'll be damned," he whispered to no one in particular.
"Lucky devil," a painting behind him grumbled.
~*~
Ron's puzzled frown gave way to a wide grin the moment Harry had finished explaining why he was late to Charms.
"Sly git," he said, laughing. "You even managed to keep her eyes from leaking this time!"
"Get out of it," he muttered as he ducked Ron's attempt to tousle his hair. Still, he couldn't help grinning himself. "Anyway, I owe it all to our resident bookworm, here." He turned to where Hermione was half-concentrating on a Luminescense Charm. She'd managed to make the Christmas bauble in front of her glow five minutes ago, and was doing and undoing it over and over out of boredom.
"Hey, you," Harry said, prodding her shoulder.
She jumped and looked up at him. "Harry! When did you get here?"
"Just a few minutes ago. Anyway, thanks."
"For what?"
"For Cho."
A satisfied smile stretched across her features. "I was hoping my letter would do some good. Glad to see she's come to her senses."
"Evidently, she still insists on calling you 'Hermione Granger', though," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "So as not to confuse you with all the other Hermiones at school."
"Why IS she so formal with me?" She poked her lips with the tip of her wand thoughtfully. "I just don't understand it."
Ron shrugged, then his eyes suddenly shot wide. "Hermione, you really shouldn't-" He stopped, looking horrified. "Too late."
"What? What's the matter?"
Harry tried not to grin, but failed miserably. "D'you.. have a mirror on you?"
A worried look came over her as her hand shot into her bag, withdrawing a small make-up mirror after a few seconds. She tilted it, looking over her face, then nearly dropped it.
"OOH, Hermione, that lipstick is absolutely fabulous!" Parvati Patil called earnestly to her from a few desks down, her eyes shining. "May I borrow it, oh please, may I?"
Several students looked around, and many of them were quite startled to see Hermione's lips had not only turned an elegant powder blue, but were also glowing even brighter than the ornament on her desk.
"I look like I've been snacking on light bulbs!" she whispered to Harry and Ron.
"Please, Hermione?" Parvati insisted desperately. "I'll loan you any of my make-up you like!"
~*~ To Be Continued
Year 6 (ehrm, the beta version?) at Hogwarts
by Jessica X
*****
LEGAL NOTICE: Harry Potter, all names, characters, and related concepts are ©1997 J.K. Rowling. And I guess Warner Bros., even though they're merely milking her grand idea. This work of fiction and all concepts unique to it are ©2004 by Jessica X. Rated M for Mature, or whatever; not a lemon, but it does have adult themes that will show up later.
SPOILER WARNING: As you should have guessed, this being "Year 6", this fiction will contain no end of spoilers for the preceeding five books. You have been warned; if you're uncomfortable with this, GO READ THEM FIRST!!!! PLEASE, I assure you, they're really good!
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Do not get used to this. I know it hasn't been long since I put the first chapter up, and already here's the second! That's because when I posted chapter one, I already had four and a half chapters written.
*****
~*~ Chapter Two: The Swing of Things
"Welcome back to Hogwarts!"
The chatter that had filled the Great Hall following the sorting of the new students died quickly as Albus Dumbledore spoke.
"A few words before we lose ourselves in our mouthwatering feast. Our first years should note that the forest on the grounds is off limits to all students. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has amended his list of illegal items to include anything from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, an amusing joke shop in Diagon Alley. This list can be found hanging outside his office door."
Almost everyone at the Gryffindor table exchanged grins, as did several students at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables.
"Finally, on a more serious note, the return of Voldemort-" several students and a few teachers flinched "-to power has impressed upon the staff the need to gird our minds and strengthen our skills. As much as I hope I am mistaken, I fear dark times are ahead for all of us. It saddens me that the applicants for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position were, shall we say... nonexistant. However, as I have just stated, there is nothing we could be learning that is more important at such an hour." The headmaster sighed heavily, straightened the half-moon spectacles on his crooked nose, and continued.
"That said, allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... me."
There was a brief, shocked silence, followed immediately with a rush of murmurs.
"Settle down, settle down," he said quietly, and a hush fell over the room once again. "A move such as this is uncommon, I know, but there really wasn't much of an alternative. The idea actually came to me from a previous teacher of said subject. After all, if dear Professor Umbridge was up to the task of both of these AND High Inquisitor, I can only hope to do as... well as she."
A few students laughed nervously, and Dumbledore smiled.
"Enough of my ramblings. Tuck in!"
And as he said this, the golden platters in front of them filled with tantalizing dishes.
"Dobby's mates really outdid themselves," Ron managed around a mouthful of potato. "So, what d'you reckon? I mean, Dumbledore teaching?"
"He's taught before," Harry said, helping himself to turkey dressing. "But his subject was Transfiguration back in those days."
"I'm sure he's more than qualified," Neville put in.
"Snape looked livid when Dumbledore was telling us," Seamus said, nodding toward the high table. "Poor git got passed up again."
"Snape always looks like that," Ron said offhandedly.
"But surely Dumbledore could've found SOMEONE to take the job?" Harry's eyes lit up. "An Auror, or-"
"They're all too busy," Ron said. "Tonks stopped by The Burrow twice all summer, for about five minutes each."
"It's obvious why no one wanted to take the job," Hermione said shortly, pouring more pumpkin juice into her goblet.
"Yeah, 'cause it's cursed," Dean Thomas said promptly.
"Beyond that," she said. "Now they know Voldemort's back - Ron, get over it, already! - even less people want to risk helping Dumbledore outright. They don't want Voldemort to see them as a threat, or even a more appealing target."
"Chicken-hearts," Ron mumbled, reaching for a chicken breast.
After they had all had their fill, Dumbledore stood again and dismissed them. As they were ascending the great marble stairs, Harry caught sight of Cho.
She stopped, and several Ravenclaw second years bumped into her from behind. She stared straight at him, biting her dark, shimmering hair absentmindedly, then glanced somewhere right behind him. He turned to see Hermione standing there, piercing Cho with a determined look. As he turned to look at Cho again, he saw only the back of her head as she disappeared into the crowd.
"What was that business about?" he said, continuing up the stairs.
"You'll find out soon enough," Hermione muttered. "At least, I hope so."
He rounded on her. "Does this have anything to do with what you-"
Hermione had whipped a finger to her lips, a look of panic breaking out on her face. Harry nodded curtly, then rejoined the procession to Gryffindor tower.
As they entered the common room ("Portable Swamp" was the password, which they all thought was brilliant), Harry immediately pulled Hermione over to their favourite squashy armchairs by the fireplace.
"All right, explain yourself," he demanded in a low voice.
"Harry-"
"What are you on about? And what in the bloody freaking hell are you and Cho up to?!"
"Harry, it's not-"
"I barely caught a wink last night, I was too busy wondering what was wrong with y-"
"SHUT UP!"
He was so startled to hear her hiss at him like that, and to see how badly she was shaking with mingled frustration and fear, that he fell silent obediently.
"Not... here..." she whispered, her eyes bulging slightly. "Please, I'm begging you for the last time, drop it! I'll tell you everything, I promise, but not now, and not here!"
He still had no idea what was going on, but seeing her like that - so utterly distraught, counting on him, pleading with him...
"Okay. You're driving me mad, you know, but... okay."
She smiled weakly, then made to get up.
"Wait, where are you going? We can still-"
"No, we can't," she said, rather abruptly. "I'm sorry, Harry... I know I'm being a bit rude, but... I think I need to be alone for a while. I'll... I'll see you at breakfast."
And then she was ascending the stairs to the girls' dormitories, and Harry was staring after her, utterly vexed.
"What was that all about?"
He looked up and was startled to see Ron and Ginny sitting down.
"I... I don't really know, to be honest. I guess she was just tired."
"Hmm." Ron shrugged, then reached into his pocket. "Fizzing Whizbee? I think I've got a few left..."
~*~
Harry's sleep was not restful, and was fraught with strange dreams, including one where a house-elf with Hermione's face kept trying to tell him something, then started pelting herself with Fizzing Whizbees. As a result, he was distinctly groggy at breakfast.
"You look like a Skrewt got hold of you," Neville said. "What's up?"
"Kept having stupid dreams," he mumbled, spreading jam on his toast.
"I had one, too," Seamus said, putting down his orange juice. "You-Know-Who came flying out of the fireplace at me mam, but then Harry popped out of a dustbin and started throwing Pumpkin Pasties at him."
"Bet that sorted him," Harry said, grinning sleepily.
"I guess so, as then he turned into a giraffe."
"Blimey," Ron breathed, staring at the new schedules they'd just been handed. "Double Potions, first thing! Why, oh why did I actually study for that O.W.L.? I could've been rid of Snape forever!"
~*~
The day passed without any noteworthy events (he received a zero from Snape, which was on par). It also passed without Hermione; she seemed to turn up just in time for class, did her best to pretend they weren't there during, and disappeared just afterward. Harry was not the only one to notice this.
"Where's she running off to?" Ron said loudly.
Harry shrugged. "Let's check the library."
Oddly enough, she wasn't there, as they discovered several minutes later. They checked the common room, the Great Hall, the Room of Requirement (more on accident than anything; they'd gone past its hidden location a few times when its door suddenly appeared), and even Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, whose sole occupant proceeded to drift in Harry's wake for a bit before returning to her U-bend.
"Can I make the toast at your wedding reception?" Ron goaded him.
"Shut up."
They finally abandoned the search, and were walking into the Great Hall to inhale a few bites of something before next period, when they found Hermione already seated at the Gryffindor table, her head down, bolting down food.
"Hermione!" Harry called as they approached. She started, dropping some of whatever was on her fork into her glass.
"Hi!" she said, sounding a tad over-cheerful. A bit of sauce was clinging to her cheek. Harry motioned his finger across the corresponding spot on his face, and she blushed and wiped it off with her napkin.
"Are you avoiding us?" Ron asked bluntly.
"No," she said, not meeting his eyes. "I've just been for a walk around the castle. I wanted to see the grounds, get some fresh air."
"Come off it," he persisted. "What're you really...?"
But she was already striding out of the hall, leaving behind a plate of half-finished macaroni and cheese.
"What's she playing at?" Ron said a few minutes later between bites of a pastrami sandwich. "We've got Care of Magical Creatures next, and she's on about getting fresh air."
As they walked through the grass toward Hagrid's hut, they saw Hermione conversing with him. He looked up when he noticed the movement.
"All righ', Harry?" he called out cheerily. "Ron?"
"All right," Ron called back, grinning. But even as he said this, Hermione moved away from Hagrid and closer to a cluster of crates, presumably to investigate their contents. Harry couldn't help agreeing with Ron; she was determined to talk to them as little as possible.
~*~
"It's been nice chatting with you," Ron said loudly as they attempted to keep pace with her on the way back to the castle, and failed. "See you next term, then?"
"What d'you reckon?" Neville asked, nursing a slight scratch the kneazle he'd been feeding had given him.
"Who knows?" Harry said as they reached the heavy oak doors into the castle. Of course, he did know, but a promise was a promise.
As they queued up for Defense Against the Dark Arts, however, Hermione walked up to them and said "Hello" somewhat formally.
"Don't give us that!" Ron snapped.
"What's the matter?" she asked innocently.
"What's the matter with YOU?" he bellowed. "You ruddy well know you've been ignoring us since last night! What's got into you that you can't talk to us anymore?"
As he watched Hermione begin to squirm, a sudden idea came to Harry.
"Look," he began heatedly, winking so as only Hermione could see it, "I'm sorry I called you that, but I swear I didn't mean to! Besides, 'Hermy' is a right cute little nickname, and I'd appreciate it if you quit acting like such a prat about it!"
To his relief, she caught on as soon as he'd said "Hermy". She winked back, then acted as if she was thinking it over for a moment before half-shouting a response.
"Well, I accept your apology, then, but I'll thank you never to make that mistake again!"
Ron stared blankly.
"That's what all this was about? I've been put through all this grief over a NICKNAME?!"
"I don't want YOU using it, either!" she yelled, rounding on him. "It's revolting, and I don't appreciate it!"
"'Hermy'?" Neville whispered in Harry's ear.
Then the door clicked open of its own accord, and they began filing into the classroom, Ron shaking his head and muttering something like "off her nut". As they neared the entrance, Harry felt a hand squeeze his. He looked to his left, and saw Hermione beaming at him, mouthing the words "thank you".
As they sat waiting for the lesson to begin, she slipped him a bit of parchment under their desks. Taking great care not to let anyone see it (particularly Ron), and pretending to be browsing his textbook, he read the hastily scribbled note:
"That was brilliant! But did you have to tell everybody that awful nickname? Anyway, I owe you one, and I mean it. First Hogsmeade weekend, bring your cloak."
Harry crumpled it up and shoved it into his pocket. He could only guess it meant she was going to tell him what was up then. It made sense; the village of Hogsmeade had a few more places to hold a private conversation, ones that most Hogwarts students wouldn't know about. But why must he wait that long to find out, and why on earth did she want him to bring the Invisibility Cloak?
Before he could develop any further hypotheses, there was a POP!, a flash of fire, and Professor Dumbledore was suddenly seated behind the teacher's desk, a brilliant crimson feather in his hat.
"Good afternoon, class," he said pleasantly. A few students returned the greeting.
"Today, a simple proficiency quiz. Nothing to worry about," he soothed, preemptively stifling the collective groan before it began, "just a test to assess what we already know so I can pick up from there... though I do already have a general idea of what you're capable of. Begin."
And with that, rolls of parchment appeared on the desks in front of them. As the quills began scratching away, Harry smiled. He was quite sure most of the class would get high marks, due to their little club last year. He unscrewed his inkwell, dipped his quill in it, and started in.
~*~
The first two weeks of term went rather quickly and with little incident; Harry's death was predicted predictably in Divination, which was now being joint-taught by Professors Trelawny and Firenze; the dog he'd been attempting to Transfigure into a chair barked when sat in, but was otherwise fine; Harry actually managed to scrape a decent grade on a Memory-Sharpening Draught (mostly due to sampling Hermione's before his second attempt); and most importantly, Hermione was acting normally again, hounding them about their already-mounting load of homework and wondering what they'd done with the planner books she'd given them.
"Mine's propping up a wobbly table leg at the Burrow," Ron confessed to him when she was out of earshot.
Without the presence of Angelina Johnson, the duty of Quidditch captain had somehow ended in Ginny's lap. With Harry and his Firebolt back in the Seeker position, she was now the lead - and only - Chaser, and she was very anxious about the upcoming team tryouts.
"What if no one good shows up?" she said to him one afternoon in their third week. "We already got stuck with Kirke and Sloper, Merlin knows we can't handle any more crappy players. The Cup may rest on your shoulders."
He idly asked Seamus and Dean if they'd be trying out, but they already had positions of sorts.
"We're talking over for Lee Jordan as commentators!" Seamus said, grinning. "McGonagall asked us last week!"
And so Harry found himself heading toward the Charms classroom, mind filled with dread for the future of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, when he ploughed headlong into Cho Chang.
"Watch- oh, hi," she said, noticing who'd almost killed her.
"Cho! Sorry, er, my fault, I wasn't-"
"It's okay, you don't have to..."
She trailed off, looking at the floor.
"Speaking of apologies, Harry..."
"Yeah... I got your letter."
"I really am, though," she said, her eyes pleading. "I was being so silly about you and Hermione Granger."
"We've only ever been friends, you know."
"Yeah, so she said."
His brow furrowed. "She said...?"
"She sent me an owl over the summer... said she kept thinking about us, you and I, and how things had ended last year. Said she wanted to set the record straight and all."
Harry smiled. He guessed that both him and Hermione telling her they weren't snogging at every spare moment had more impact than just one of them telling her. The letter had done the trick, alright.
"That one squares us," he muttered.
"Hmm?"
"Nothing, nevermind. So, er... have a good summer?"
"It was okay. Look," she said, shifting uneasily. "We both may have said some things we regret last year, and-"
"Yeah," Harry said, scuffing the ground with his shoe. "I was acting like a git last year, wasn't I?"
"No, no, I was the-"
"Come on, we can find better things to fight over than who's the bigger idiot," he said with a grin.
Cho beamed at him. "Start fresh, then?" She held out her hand.
"Sure."
As he took her hand to shake it, she suddenly darted forward and pecked him on the cheek, then scampered down the hall, failing to supress a fit of giggles.
"I'll be damned," he whispered to no one in particular.
"Lucky devil," a painting behind him grumbled.
~*~
Ron's puzzled frown gave way to a wide grin the moment Harry had finished explaining why he was late to Charms.
"Sly git," he said, laughing. "You even managed to keep her eyes from leaking this time!"
"Get out of it," he muttered as he ducked Ron's attempt to tousle his hair. Still, he couldn't help grinning himself. "Anyway, I owe it all to our resident bookworm, here." He turned to where Hermione was half-concentrating on a Luminescense Charm. She'd managed to make the Christmas bauble in front of her glow five minutes ago, and was doing and undoing it over and over out of boredom.
"Hey, you," Harry said, prodding her shoulder.
She jumped and looked up at him. "Harry! When did you get here?"
"Just a few minutes ago. Anyway, thanks."
"For what?"
"For Cho."
A satisfied smile stretched across her features. "I was hoping my letter would do some good. Glad to see she's come to her senses."
"Evidently, she still insists on calling you 'Hermione Granger', though," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "So as not to confuse you with all the other Hermiones at school."
"Why IS she so formal with me?" She poked her lips with the tip of her wand thoughtfully. "I just don't understand it."
Ron shrugged, then his eyes suddenly shot wide. "Hermione, you really shouldn't-" He stopped, looking horrified. "Too late."
"What? What's the matter?"
Harry tried not to grin, but failed miserably. "D'you.. have a mirror on you?"
A worried look came over her as her hand shot into her bag, withdrawing a small make-up mirror after a few seconds. She tilted it, looking over her face, then nearly dropped it.
"OOH, Hermione, that lipstick is absolutely fabulous!" Parvati Patil called earnestly to her from a few desks down, her eyes shining. "May I borrow it, oh please, may I?"
Several students looked around, and many of them were quite startled to see Hermione's lips had not only turned an elegant powder blue, but were also glowing even brighter than the ornament on her desk.
"I look like I've been snacking on light bulbs!" she whispered to Harry and Ron.
"Please, Hermione?" Parvati insisted desperately. "I'll loan you any of my make-up you like!"
~*~ To Be Continued