'i was not alone, though the darkness crept inside my overcoat, and i was full of need...'
More fics for hh_writersblock! Comments are appreciated. ^_^
Title: Trapped
Rating: G
Characters/Pairing: Hermione, Snape
Summary: Hermione and Snape get trapped in a closet.
Word Count: 1436
Author's Notes: I loved this challenge so much I'm doing it again! I do so enjoy Hermione and Snape being forced to interact at close quarters and being all awkward and snarky in turns.
“Fred! Let me out of here!” Hermione furiously slammed her palms against the wall of the closet she was trapped in. Naturally, that accomplished nothing except emphasize how utterly helpless she was in this situation. The situation being a booby-trap which had sent her tumbling into one of Hogwarts’ numerous closets, and just to make her day that much worse, there was an Impermeable Charm in place, making it impossible for her to blast her way out.
“Damn it, Fred, if you don’t let me out right this minute, I’ll-” she paused, unsure what she could really use to threaten a ghost determined to have the best deathday celebration ever, no matter how many students or staff he inconvenienced in the process. “I’ll find a way to make you corporeal and I will hurt you severely! FRED!”
She released an inarticulate shriek of rage and proceeded to vigorously kick the wall. Which was a considerable mistake, she acknowledged, as she hopped on one foot while hissing at the pain coursing through the other.
Of course, that was the moment another body came hurtling through the temporarily permeable closet ceiling and collided with her, sending both hapless victims to the floor in a tangle of limbs. A harsh and truly creative flow of invectives tripped off her tongue at this point, her dignity having been long abandoned.
In the process of unceremoniously shoving off whoever had the good fortune to have her body cushion their fall (Hermione still nursed bruises from her collision with the floor) while still cursing furiously, she suddenly realized this was not the most professional attitude she could’ve displayed. Hermione couldn’t remember Professor McGonagall- or, well, Minerva, now- ever losing control of herself in this manner. She’d always kept her head and been cool and calm, no matter what calamity she had to deal with.
Hmm. Shrieking and kicking things and cursing. Not really approaching the ‘cool under fire’ persona she wanted to project.
She scrabbled for her wand to cast the light on her fellow closet prisoner and determine who it was that she was going to try and be calm and reassuring for. This wasn’t the best start, not by a long shot, but Hermione was determined to be all that was positive and comforting and upbeat for the no doubt terrified-
“My, my, Miss Granger,” came a most unwelcome voice at that point. “I never suspected you had such a foul mouth on you.”
Already knowing what she would find, Hermione waved her wand to the side, just in case extended closet entrapment happened to cause nasty hallucinations. Maybe Snape wasn’t trapped in this closet with her. Maybe that sneering voice was just a figment of her imagination. Maybe the world didn’t hate her this much-
The light illuminated a harsh, scowling face opposite her, and Hermione internally shrieked, Why me? Why Snape? Of all the people in the bloody castle, why did it have to be the two of us stuck in here?!
Outwardly, she managed a very concise, “Ugh.”
“No need to censor yourself on my behalf,” he said. “Pray continue with your description of that basilisk fang lodged…where was it exactly?”
“I don’t recall,” she said weakly, and lapsed into an embarrassed silence. Snape hadn’t taken her seriously as a teacher since the beginning of term, and now she’d done nothing to convince him otherwise with her unprofessional behavior. Why did he have to see her like this? She’d’ve settled for traumatizing a firstie over giving Severus Snape more reasons to sneer at her youth and immaturity.
“I take it the late, lamented Mr Weasley is behind our current predicament?”
“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth, seething at the reminder of the wretched spirit who had caused this whole mess. “And he will be very, very sorry once I’m through with him. If I ever get out of here, of course!”
She caught the rising pitch in her tone and bit back the rest of the hysterical rant just in time. Snape. Trying to make a good impression. Do not lose the plot.
“You realize, Miss Granger-”
That did it. “You realize, Professor Snape, that I am on the staff at this school?”
Her pointed question met with a foreboding silence from his corner, but she pressed on, “That I am a fellow professor, your colleague, and if nothing else, I am due the courtesy of being addressed appropriately? We’ve had our differences over the years, but I’ve always shown you the respect due your position!”
“Respect? Is that what you call leaving me to bleed out in the Shrieking Shack?”
“Well…that wasn’t- it was rather- that’s not fair, we thought you were a traitor,” she protested. “It made no sense to try and heal you when it seemed like you were the enemy.”
“Very well, then, what about that minor incident where you set my robes on fire in your first year?”
“Oh. You- know about that?”
“Obviously. As well as your theft of my potions ingredients in your second year.”
“There were extenuating circumstances-”
“And I’m sure you don’t need your memory refreshed about the exploits in your third year, the culmination of which left me unconscious, with a werewolf and a convict in the immediate vicinity.”
She studied her hands intently and offered no comment.
“Then you have the audacity to speak to me of respect?”
“You’re right.”
This time, the silence emanating from his corner had a surprised air.
“Not entirely, because it’s a little harsh to ignore things like believing people’s lives were in danger and trying to clear an innocent man’s name, but we, I, did a lot of thoughtless things and I never had the decency to apologize or make up for it in any way. And I do owe you an apology. Even if you were deliberately unpleasant and cruel to us, which partly contributed to my never making amends, and you did invite suspicion which helped me make my erroneous assumptions about you, but, still. I am sorry.”
“That is the worst apology I’ve ever heard, Granger. And not a little offensive at parts.”
She shrugged. To hell with it. “I doubt I’d win your respect by fawning all over you, and you wouldn’t tolerate teary, oversentimental remorse- although I could try to wring a few tears out if that’d help.” At his grimace, she continued, “It was the truth, and while I wasn’t sure how it’d go over, it’s the best I can manage. I know I’ve been thoughtless and obnoxious in the past, but well, I like to think I’ve improved since then. At least a little.”
Hermione waited for his scathing response to what he’d no doubt call a vain hope.
“You’re…not an entirely hopeless case,” he conceded.
Now she was surprised into silence. Severus Snape admitting there was a chance she had become less obnoxious? Would wonders never cease?
“Speaking of hopeless cases, by the by, do you recall that…charmingly named group you founded in your fourth year, SPEW, was it?”
Hermione gritted her teeth. “S. P. E. W. It was never-” she bit off the rest of her automatic retort. “Never mind. Yes.”
“Perhaps it may go against your principles, but there is an obvious solution to our predicament.”
Of all the blindingly obvious…! Hermione drummed her fist against her forehead in exasperation.
“Winky,” called Snape.
A heartbeat later, a sharp crack rent the air and the house-elf appeared between them.
“How is Winky serving Master of Potions?” she asked deferentially. “And Mistress of Transfigurations?” she added, uneasily skittering away from Hermione, whom the house-elves still treated with wary caution, even after all these years.
“I don’t know about Professor Granger, but I would like to get out of here,” Snape said sardonically. “My quarters, please.”
Winky seized him by the hand and then the two disappeared, leaving Hermione alone in the closet, feeling remarkably foolish.
Although…she did have to wonder. He’d evidently figured out a way to leave this trap from the start- she realized now that was what he’d been about to say, when she’d interrupted him in her rant about respect- yet…he had chosen to remain and converse with her instead of instantly summoning a house-elf and removing himself from her vicinity. It was interesting. Very interesting.
Perhaps he didn’t have such a loathing of Gryffindors in general or her in particular, after all.
Why this left her with a smile on her face, she didn’t know, but in light of this intriguing discovery, Hermione charitably put aside her notions of revenge against Fred. She had a theory to test…
---
Title: Friends in the Strangest Places
Rating: G
Characters/Pairing: Draco, Luna
Summary: Draco gets lost in the Forbidden Forest and meets the strangest creature.
Word Count: 1120
Author's Notes: I like the idea of them, I could almost ship it. ^_^ Luna, dotty as she is, would be good for Draco.
Draco Malfoy was not having a good week. First he was set upon and popped in the nose by those Gryffindor louts- not even wizard enough to duel him, no, they resorted to Muggle brawling, the uncultured thugs- and then he was landed in detention for rightfully protesting the ridiculous standard of so-called teaching being provided by that half-giant dimwit.
First the barbaric brute asked them to consider extra-curricular minding of the odious Blast-Ended Skrewts they were constantly being injured by, and then when Draco declined the dubious honor of spending more time with them than was mandated by the class schedule, Hagrid humiliated him and then ordered him to attend! And when he begrudgingly turned up as instructed, a few well-earned sarcastic remarks about the hell he’d found himself in were enough to warrant punishment!
Draco seethed, planning his revenge. He had to find some way to get that oaf fired. He was not the most academically driven student, but it was embarrassing what rotten teaching the school was being subjected to because of Dumbledore’s inept hiring standards! That it would also avenge his wounded pride was icing on the cake.
And it was especially warranted, given the predicament he now found himself embroiled in. Draco had somehow been separated from the group he’d entered the Forbidden Forest with- ‘It’s forbidden for a reason!’ he'd desperately pleaded, to no avail- and was steadily growing more and more hysterical.
Not because of a cowardly nature, oh, no, it was entirely justified. As he blundered through the forest, unable to recollect which way led to safety and which led deeper into danger, he’d had the misfortune to wander near Acromantula territory. He’d managed to evade those terrifying, man-eating spiders, but lost his wand in the process of fleeing for his life.
Draco despaired. It was becoming more unlikely that he would emerge from this unscathed. He was lost in the Forbidden Forest with no idea which way to go and no wand to defend himself against its hostile denizens. He might as well brandish a sign that proclaimed, ‘Fresh Meat- Eat Me Now’.
He choked down an unmanly sob that fought to escape from his throat. No. He was not going to give up now, he was not going to lie down and play dead. It might look grim, but allowing himself to become hysterical and drawing unwanted attention was unworthy of a Slytherin and a Malfoy. He took a deep breath and stumbled on.
Hours later, or perhaps merely minutes- it was hard to keep track of the time when one was wandering around in the dark, heart beating so fast it seemed likely to explode and panting in an unabashedly panicked manner- he tripped yet once again and landed at the base of a massive tree, its roots lifting up from the earth and creating a little shelter. Perhaps he could take cover underneath it for the night and try to make for Hogwarts when there was more light?
Shivering, he peered under the roots, tempted by the prospect of shelter but wary of what might be concealed therein. Muck, grubs, creepy-crawlies… Draco shuddered.
Just as he grasped the courage to put a toe inside, a voice called down from above his head, “I wouldn’t risk it. I’m fairly certain bowtruckles are nesting there, and they might not take kindly to you intruding.”
Draco nearly fell over again in shock at hearing this matter-of-fact declaration from out of the blue. He looked up at the closest branch above him, straining to see who his mysterious advisor was, and only caught glimpse of long silvery hair that gleamed in the moonlight.
“Who are you?” he demanded, trying not to reveal his relief at finding another human in his vicinity. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m Luna Lovegood,” said she. “And I came out for some fresh air. It was such a beautiful night that I decided to go for a walk-”
“In the Forbidden Forest?” he asked, aghast. “Are you insane? Oh.”
Just then, it clicked. Loony Lovegood. Of course. Just his luck to be stranded with the Nutter of Ravenclaw.
She was blabbering on about mythical creatures and invisible beings when Draco cut in. “Look, Lovegood, I don’t have time for this. I’m cold, dirty, bruised all over, and I just want to get back to Hogwarts. So if you don’t mind awfully…” he trailed off meaningfully.
“You’re rather rude,” she said in a sanguine manner. “But I suppose I’ll overlook that, since you’re having a frightful evening. I don’t know why you’re so upset; the woods are lovely, dark and deep.”
“Much too dark for my liking,” he agreed with a shudder. “And I’d rather not discover how deep they go. Listen, I’m sure that perch is comfortable, but we should probably-”
“Look out below!” she cried gaily, and he was horror-struck as she launched herself from the branch, eschewing the tedious effort of clambering down the trunk in favor of springing down.
Draco was paralyzed in a moment of indecision, unsure whether to stand aside and let her fall or to take the brunt of her weight as she plummeted towards him. His natural instinct was to duck for cover, but she was his only means out of here, and letting her knock herself out was contrary to his survival instincts.
And then it was too late. Luna Lovegood fell into his arms- they were outstretched to shield himself, of course, and she merely had the good fortune to land within his grasp, whereupon his Seeker reflexes prompted him to hold onto her- and he staggered a few steps, but stayed upright.
“Well,” he said haughtily, his manner at stark contrast with the gentle way he set her on her feet, “if you’re quite through with your acrobatics, might we be off now, please?”
The effect was spoiled a second later when he recalled his loss and continued sheepishly, “Also, if it doesn’t trouble you too much, perhaps you could…summon my wand?”
He braced himself for a derogatory comment on his defensive skills, but Luna smiled up at him and did as he was asked. A minute later, the wand zoomed towards them and he reached out and grasped it with a sigh of relief.
“Er…thanks, Lovegood,” he said. Batty as she may be, she’d offered him aid that he could have expected from nobody else in all the three other houses combined. Perhaps even some in his own would’ve delighted in seeing him brought low, rather than helping him.
A latent sense of chivalry had him offering his arm, “Shall we?”
With a delighted laugh, she took his arm and led him out of the forest.
---
Title: With Eyes Open
Rating/Warnings: PG
Characters/Pairing: Hermione, Ginny, Luna
Summary: Hermione and Ginny return to Hogwarts for their final year, and are met with a confronting sight.
Word Count: 1033
Author's Notes: I pretty much despise book!DH (not the movie, for the movie is flawless) but there are two parts that make me tear up. The moment that Ginny recollects here is one of them (although I took the liberty of picking a student from canon, since the girl in question remains unnamed in DH)
“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Ginny asked once again.
Hermione shook her head, a tired smile tugging at her lips. “Really, Ginny, you don’t have to keep on after me. I promise you, it doesn’t bother me one bit.”
The redhead polished her ‘Head Girl’ badge in a manner reminiscent of Percy and then pinned it on herself with all due pomp and circumstance, keeping a solemn, dignified face all the while as she brushed each shoulder and looked down her nose at Hermione…before ruining the image by bursting into giggles.
“I couldn’t believe it, I thought it would be you! Ever since first year, everyone thought you’d be Head Girl one day.”
“In the ordinary scheme of things, perhaps I would have been. But this is your year level I’m gate-crashing, after all. I don’t think I have the right to that badge, not when I’m not with my peers, but joining the year after mine. Besides, I think you’re a better choice than me. I’m happy to retain my prefect’s badge, but you’re the popular one, you deserve to represent Hogwarts as Head Girl.”
“Thanks, Hermione,” said Ginny, dropping back down into the seat next to her. “I couldn’t abide it if you were all passive-aggressive with me, insisting it was all right, but all the while giving me huffy glares.”
“I’m not that kind of girl,” Hermione protested. At Ginny’s disbelieving stare, she conceded, “Oh, with the boys, certainly, they can be so dense sometimes. And when I’m mad, I really don’t feel like doing them the favour of explaining what has me in a temper. But I wouldn’t begrudge you this honor, Gin, I’m really proud of you.”
“Excellent. Well, get your things, prefect mine, the train’s about to pull up at the station, let’s go!”
The girls shepherded the students into some semblance of order, keeping them from trampling each other, reuniting lost familiars with frantic owners, matching up abandoned bags with those who’d carelessly left them behind, and doing one last sweep of the train to make sure nobody had fallen asleep and got taken away again.
Finally, satisfied everything was in order, they headed through Hogsmeade Station to the road outside where their carriages awaited.
And then, with identical shocked gasps, both girls stopped in their tracks, staring at the skeletal, leathery-winged ‘horses’ that were between the carriage shafts.
“Thestrals,” Hermione murmured, finally able to see what it was that had conveyed her to the Ministry in her fifth year on their doomed mission to save Sirius Black.
Back then, she’d wished to be able to see the creature she was riding, finding it difficult to keep a grip on the invisible being she’d climbed on, but now, she thought it had been for the best. Aside from the small matter of having to witness death to be able to see a thestral, she wasn’t sure she’d have been quite so determined to accompany Harry if she’d been face-to-face with these sinister, empty-eyed creatures.
She turned to Ginny, who was still silently gazing at the thestrals, and was concerned to see how pale the younger girl was.
“I thought-” she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask, but it wasn’t natural for the vivacious redhead to be so withdrawn, and she forged ahead. “I thought you were kept out of the battle for the most part? Didn’t your family make you stay in the castle throughout most of it?”
“Yes,” Ginny replied in a raspy voice. “But during the cease-fire…when it was quiet and we were allowed to go out to retrieve our fallen…”
She swallowed convulsively, and Hermione put an arm around her shoulder. “Who was it?” she asked quietly.
“Vicky Frobisher.”
Hermione had vague memories of the girl. She was the bright, talented witch who’d belonged to several different societies. In fact, Hermione had envied the way she was so clever and also managed to be a social butterfly; she herself had mainly been alienated by her own intelligence.
“She…she was too badly hurt, I couldn’t do anything. Even if I could’ve moved her inside, she still wouldn’t have made it. Ugh,” Ginny angrily dashed away the few tears that had escaped to make shining tracks down her pale cheeks. “I wasn’t even that close to her, but- I watched her die. She was asking for her mother and I told her it’d be all right and I knew that was a lie but it was the only thing I could think to say as she lay dying in front of me. We’re not exactly taught deathbed etiquette!”
“I’m so sorry, Ginny.”
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. Like I said, we weren’t close.”
“But watching someone die, even someone you don’t care for, is still a traumatic experience. It’s something we shouldn’t have been put through at our age. And it’s okay to shed a few tears over it, that’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
Ginny scrubbed away the last traces of dampness with the back of her hand and took a deep, calming breath. “It was just the shock- seeing the thestrals for the first time and remembering why,” she said. “I’m fine.”
At that moment, Luna walked up to them. “I think we’d better get going if we don’t want to have to walk all the way to Hogwarts,” she said in dreamy manner that suggested this wouldn’t be a bother at all and might be a delightful way to spend the evening.
“All right, Luna, we’re coming,” said Ginny in forthright tones, all evidence of her moment of emotional outpouring gone.
“I’ve saved a carriage for you,” said Luna, taking each girl by the hand and directing them to the last empty carriage. “It has my favourite threstral pulling it, I can introduce you, if you’d like.”
The idea of being introduced to a thestral made Hermione and Ginny snicker, and the last vestiges of gloom and sadness dissipated as they followed Luna’s lead.
“When we get to Hogwarts, I’ll get some of the special treats they enjoy, and we can visit the thestral pen together. Oh, hello, Maximus, I have two friends I’d like you to meet…”
---
Title: Trapped
Rating: G
Characters/Pairing: Hermione, Snape
Summary: Hermione and Snape get trapped in a closet.
Word Count: 1436
Author's Notes: I loved this challenge so much I'm doing it again! I do so enjoy Hermione and Snape being forced to interact at close quarters and being all awkward and snarky in turns.
“Fred! Let me out of here!” Hermione furiously slammed her palms against the wall of the closet she was trapped in. Naturally, that accomplished nothing except emphasize how utterly helpless she was in this situation. The situation being a booby-trap which had sent her tumbling into one of Hogwarts’ numerous closets, and just to make her day that much worse, there was an Impermeable Charm in place, making it impossible for her to blast her way out.
“Damn it, Fred, if you don’t let me out right this minute, I’ll-” she paused, unsure what she could really use to threaten a ghost determined to have the best deathday celebration ever, no matter how many students or staff he inconvenienced in the process. “I’ll find a way to make you corporeal and I will hurt you severely! FRED!”
She released an inarticulate shriek of rage and proceeded to vigorously kick the wall. Which was a considerable mistake, she acknowledged, as she hopped on one foot while hissing at the pain coursing through the other.
Of course, that was the moment another body came hurtling through the temporarily permeable closet ceiling and collided with her, sending both hapless victims to the floor in a tangle of limbs. A harsh and truly creative flow of invectives tripped off her tongue at this point, her dignity having been long abandoned.
In the process of unceremoniously shoving off whoever had the good fortune to have her body cushion their fall (Hermione still nursed bruises from her collision with the floor) while still cursing furiously, she suddenly realized this was not the most professional attitude she could’ve displayed. Hermione couldn’t remember Professor McGonagall- or, well, Minerva, now- ever losing control of herself in this manner. She’d always kept her head and been cool and calm, no matter what calamity she had to deal with.
Hmm. Shrieking and kicking things and cursing. Not really approaching the ‘cool under fire’ persona she wanted to project.
She scrabbled for her wand to cast the light on her fellow closet prisoner and determine who it was that she was going to try and be calm and reassuring for. This wasn’t the best start, not by a long shot, but Hermione was determined to be all that was positive and comforting and upbeat for the no doubt terrified-
“My, my, Miss Granger,” came a most unwelcome voice at that point. “I never suspected you had such a foul mouth on you.”
Already knowing what she would find, Hermione waved her wand to the side, just in case extended closet entrapment happened to cause nasty hallucinations. Maybe Snape wasn’t trapped in this closet with her. Maybe that sneering voice was just a figment of her imagination. Maybe the world didn’t hate her this much-
The light illuminated a harsh, scowling face opposite her, and Hermione internally shrieked, Why me? Why Snape? Of all the people in the bloody castle, why did it have to be the two of us stuck in here?!
Outwardly, she managed a very concise, “Ugh.”
“No need to censor yourself on my behalf,” he said. “Pray continue with your description of that basilisk fang lodged…where was it exactly?”
“I don’t recall,” she said weakly, and lapsed into an embarrassed silence. Snape hadn’t taken her seriously as a teacher since the beginning of term, and now she’d done nothing to convince him otherwise with her unprofessional behavior. Why did he have to see her like this? She’d’ve settled for traumatizing a firstie over giving Severus Snape more reasons to sneer at her youth and immaturity.
“I take it the late, lamented Mr Weasley is behind our current predicament?”
“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth, seething at the reminder of the wretched spirit who had caused this whole mess. “And he will be very, very sorry once I’m through with him. If I ever get out of here, of course!”
She caught the rising pitch in her tone and bit back the rest of the hysterical rant just in time. Snape. Trying to make a good impression. Do not lose the plot.
“You realize, Miss Granger-”
That did it. “You realize, Professor Snape, that I am on the staff at this school?”
Her pointed question met with a foreboding silence from his corner, but she pressed on, “That I am a fellow professor, your colleague, and if nothing else, I am due the courtesy of being addressed appropriately? We’ve had our differences over the years, but I’ve always shown you the respect due your position!”
“Respect? Is that what you call leaving me to bleed out in the Shrieking Shack?”
“Well…that wasn’t- it was rather- that’s not fair, we thought you were a traitor,” she protested. “It made no sense to try and heal you when it seemed like you were the enemy.”
“Very well, then, what about that minor incident where you set my robes on fire in your first year?”
“Oh. You- know about that?”
“Obviously. As well as your theft of my potions ingredients in your second year.”
“There were extenuating circumstances-”
“And I’m sure you don’t need your memory refreshed about the exploits in your third year, the culmination of which left me unconscious, with a werewolf and a convict in the immediate vicinity.”
She studied her hands intently and offered no comment.
“Then you have the audacity to speak to me of respect?”
“You’re right.”
This time, the silence emanating from his corner had a surprised air.
“Not entirely, because it’s a little harsh to ignore things like believing people’s lives were in danger and trying to clear an innocent man’s name, but we, I, did a lot of thoughtless things and I never had the decency to apologize or make up for it in any way. And I do owe you an apology. Even if you were deliberately unpleasant and cruel to us, which partly contributed to my never making amends, and you did invite suspicion which helped me make my erroneous assumptions about you, but, still. I am sorry.”
“That is the worst apology I’ve ever heard, Granger. And not a little offensive at parts.”
She shrugged. To hell with it. “I doubt I’d win your respect by fawning all over you, and you wouldn’t tolerate teary, oversentimental remorse- although I could try to wring a few tears out if that’d help.” At his grimace, she continued, “It was the truth, and while I wasn’t sure how it’d go over, it’s the best I can manage. I know I’ve been thoughtless and obnoxious in the past, but well, I like to think I’ve improved since then. At least a little.”
Hermione waited for his scathing response to what he’d no doubt call a vain hope.
“You’re…not an entirely hopeless case,” he conceded.
Now she was surprised into silence. Severus Snape admitting there was a chance she had become less obnoxious? Would wonders never cease?
“Speaking of hopeless cases, by the by, do you recall that…charmingly named group you founded in your fourth year, SPEW, was it?”
Hermione gritted her teeth. “S. P. E. W. It was never-” she bit off the rest of her automatic retort. “Never mind. Yes.”
“Perhaps it may go against your principles, but there is an obvious solution to our predicament.”
Of all the blindingly obvious…! Hermione drummed her fist against her forehead in exasperation.
“Winky,” called Snape.
A heartbeat later, a sharp crack rent the air and the house-elf appeared between them.
“How is Winky serving Master of Potions?” she asked deferentially. “And Mistress of Transfigurations?” she added, uneasily skittering away from Hermione, whom the house-elves still treated with wary caution, even after all these years.
“I don’t know about Professor Granger, but I would like to get out of here,” Snape said sardonically. “My quarters, please.”
Winky seized him by the hand and then the two disappeared, leaving Hermione alone in the closet, feeling remarkably foolish.
Although…she did have to wonder. He’d evidently figured out a way to leave this trap from the start- she realized now that was what he’d been about to say, when she’d interrupted him in her rant about respect- yet…he had chosen to remain and converse with her instead of instantly summoning a house-elf and removing himself from her vicinity. It was interesting. Very interesting.
Perhaps he didn’t have such a loathing of Gryffindors in general or her in particular, after all.
Why this left her with a smile on her face, she didn’t know, but in light of this intriguing discovery, Hermione charitably put aside her notions of revenge against Fred. She had a theory to test…
---
Title: Friends in the Strangest Places
Rating: G
Characters/Pairing: Draco, Luna
Summary: Draco gets lost in the Forbidden Forest and meets the strangest creature.
Word Count: 1120
Author's Notes: I like the idea of them, I could almost ship it. ^_^ Luna, dotty as she is, would be good for Draco.
Draco Malfoy was not having a good week. First he was set upon and popped in the nose by those Gryffindor louts- not even wizard enough to duel him, no, they resorted to Muggle brawling, the uncultured thugs- and then he was landed in detention for rightfully protesting the ridiculous standard of so-called teaching being provided by that half-giant dimwit.
First the barbaric brute asked them to consider extra-curricular minding of the odious Blast-Ended Skrewts they were constantly being injured by, and then when Draco declined the dubious honor of spending more time with them than was mandated by the class schedule, Hagrid humiliated him and then ordered him to attend! And when he begrudgingly turned up as instructed, a few well-earned sarcastic remarks about the hell he’d found himself in were enough to warrant punishment!
Draco seethed, planning his revenge. He had to find some way to get that oaf fired. He was not the most academically driven student, but it was embarrassing what rotten teaching the school was being subjected to because of Dumbledore’s inept hiring standards! That it would also avenge his wounded pride was icing on the cake.
And it was especially warranted, given the predicament he now found himself embroiled in. Draco had somehow been separated from the group he’d entered the Forbidden Forest with- ‘It’s forbidden for a reason!’ he'd desperately pleaded, to no avail- and was steadily growing more and more hysterical.
Not because of a cowardly nature, oh, no, it was entirely justified. As he blundered through the forest, unable to recollect which way led to safety and which led deeper into danger, he’d had the misfortune to wander near Acromantula territory. He’d managed to evade those terrifying, man-eating spiders, but lost his wand in the process of fleeing for his life.
Draco despaired. It was becoming more unlikely that he would emerge from this unscathed. He was lost in the Forbidden Forest with no idea which way to go and no wand to defend himself against its hostile denizens. He might as well brandish a sign that proclaimed, ‘Fresh Meat- Eat Me Now’.
He choked down an unmanly sob that fought to escape from his throat. No. He was not going to give up now, he was not going to lie down and play dead. It might look grim, but allowing himself to become hysterical and drawing unwanted attention was unworthy of a Slytherin and a Malfoy. He took a deep breath and stumbled on.
Hours later, or perhaps merely minutes- it was hard to keep track of the time when one was wandering around in the dark, heart beating so fast it seemed likely to explode and panting in an unabashedly panicked manner- he tripped yet once again and landed at the base of a massive tree, its roots lifting up from the earth and creating a little shelter. Perhaps he could take cover underneath it for the night and try to make for Hogwarts when there was more light?
Shivering, he peered under the roots, tempted by the prospect of shelter but wary of what might be concealed therein. Muck, grubs, creepy-crawlies… Draco shuddered.
Just as he grasped the courage to put a toe inside, a voice called down from above his head, “I wouldn’t risk it. I’m fairly certain bowtruckles are nesting there, and they might not take kindly to you intruding.”
Draco nearly fell over again in shock at hearing this matter-of-fact declaration from out of the blue. He looked up at the closest branch above him, straining to see who his mysterious advisor was, and only caught glimpse of long silvery hair that gleamed in the moonlight.
“Who are you?” he demanded, trying not to reveal his relief at finding another human in his vicinity. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m Luna Lovegood,” said she. “And I came out for some fresh air. It was such a beautiful night that I decided to go for a walk-”
“In the Forbidden Forest?” he asked, aghast. “Are you insane? Oh.”
Just then, it clicked. Loony Lovegood. Of course. Just his luck to be stranded with the Nutter of Ravenclaw.
She was blabbering on about mythical creatures and invisible beings when Draco cut in. “Look, Lovegood, I don’t have time for this. I’m cold, dirty, bruised all over, and I just want to get back to Hogwarts. So if you don’t mind awfully…” he trailed off meaningfully.
“You’re rather rude,” she said in a sanguine manner. “But I suppose I’ll overlook that, since you’re having a frightful evening. I don’t know why you’re so upset; the woods are lovely, dark and deep.”
“Much too dark for my liking,” he agreed with a shudder. “And I’d rather not discover how deep they go. Listen, I’m sure that perch is comfortable, but we should probably-”
“Look out below!” she cried gaily, and he was horror-struck as she launched herself from the branch, eschewing the tedious effort of clambering down the trunk in favor of springing down.
Draco was paralyzed in a moment of indecision, unsure whether to stand aside and let her fall or to take the brunt of her weight as she plummeted towards him. His natural instinct was to duck for cover, but she was his only means out of here, and letting her knock herself out was contrary to his survival instincts.
And then it was too late. Luna Lovegood fell into his arms- they were outstretched to shield himself, of course, and she merely had the good fortune to land within his grasp, whereupon his Seeker reflexes prompted him to hold onto her- and he staggered a few steps, but stayed upright.
“Well,” he said haughtily, his manner at stark contrast with the gentle way he set her on her feet, “if you’re quite through with your acrobatics, might we be off now, please?”
The effect was spoiled a second later when he recalled his loss and continued sheepishly, “Also, if it doesn’t trouble you too much, perhaps you could…summon my wand?”
He braced himself for a derogatory comment on his defensive skills, but Luna smiled up at him and did as he was asked. A minute later, the wand zoomed towards them and he reached out and grasped it with a sigh of relief.
“Er…thanks, Lovegood,” he said. Batty as she may be, she’d offered him aid that he could have expected from nobody else in all the three other houses combined. Perhaps even some in his own would’ve delighted in seeing him brought low, rather than helping him.
A latent sense of chivalry had him offering his arm, “Shall we?”
With a delighted laugh, she took his arm and led him out of the forest.
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Title: With Eyes Open
Rating/Warnings: PG
Characters/Pairing: Hermione, Ginny, Luna
Summary: Hermione and Ginny return to Hogwarts for their final year, and are met with a confronting sight.
Word Count: 1033
Author's Notes: I pretty much despise book!DH (not the movie, for the movie is flawless) but there are two parts that make me tear up. The moment that Ginny recollects here is one of them (although I took the liberty of picking a student from canon, since the girl in question remains unnamed in DH)
“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Ginny asked once again.
Hermione shook her head, a tired smile tugging at her lips. “Really, Ginny, you don’t have to keep on after me. I promise you, it doesn’t bother me one bit.”
The redhead polished her ‘Head Girl’ badge in a manner reminiscent of Percy and then pinned it on herself with all due pomp and circumstance, keeping a solemn, dignified face all the while as she brushed each shoulder and looked down her nose at Hermione…before ruining the image by bursting into giggles.
“I couldn’t believe it, I thought it would be you! Ever since first year, everyone thought you’d be Head Girl one day.”
“In the ordinary scheme of things, perhaps I would have been. But this is your year level I’m gate-crashing, after all. I don’t think I have the right to that badge, not when I’m not with my peers, but joining the year after mine. Besides, I think you’re a better choice than me. I’m happy to retain my prefect’s badge, but you’re the popular one, you deserve to represent Hogwarts as Head Girl.”
“Thanks, Hermione,” said Ginny, dropping back down into the seat next to her. “I couldn’t abide it if you were all passive-aggressive with me, insisting it was all right, but all the while giving me huffy glares.”
“I’m not that kind of girl,” Hermione protested. At Ginny’s disbelieving stare, she conceded, “Oh, with the boys, certainly, they can be so dense sometimes. And when I’m mad, I really don’t feel like doing them the favour of explaining what has me in a temper. But I wouldn’t begrudge you this honor, Gin, I’m really proud of you.”
“Excellent. Well, get your things, prefect mine, the train’s about to pull up at the station, let’s go!”
The girls shepherded the students into some semblance of order, keeping them from trampling each other, reuniting lost familiars with frantic owners, matching up abandoned bags with those who’d carelessly left them behind, and doing one last sweep of the train to make sure nobody had fallen asleep and got taken away again.
Finally, satisfied everything was in order, they headed through Hogsmeade Station to the road outside where their carriages awaited.
And then, with identical shocked gasps, both girls stopped in their tracks, staring at the skeletal, leathery-winged ‘horses’ that were between the carriage shafts.
“Thestrals,” Hermione murmured, finally able to see what it was that had conveyed her to the Ministry in her fifth year on their doomed mission to save Sirius Black.
Back then, she’d wished to be able to see the creature she was riding, finding it difficult to keep a grip on the invisible being she’d climbed on, but now, she thought it had been for the best. Aside from the small matter of having to witness death to be able to see a thestral, she wasn’t sure she’d have been quite so determined to accompany Harry if she’d been face-to-face with these sinister, empty-eyed creatures.
She turned to Ginny, who was still silently gazing at the thestrals, and was concerned to see how pale the younger girl was.
“I thought-” she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask, but it wasn’t natural for the vivacious redhead to be so withdrawn, and she forged ahead. “I thought you were kept out of the battle for the most part? Didn’t your family make you stay in the castle throughout most of it?”
“Yes,” Ginny replied in a raspy voice. “But during the cease-fire…when it was quiet and we were allowed to go out to retrieve our fallen…”
She swallowed convulsively, and Hermione put an arm around her shoulder. “Who was it?” she asked quietly.
“Vicky Frobisher.”
Hermione had vague memories of the girl. She was the bright, talented witch who’d belonged to several different societies. In fact, Hermione had envied the way she was so clever and also managed to be a social butterfly; she herself had mainly been alienated by her own intelligence.
“She…she was too badly hurt, I couldn’t do anything. Even if I could’ve moved her inside, she still wouldn’t have made it. Ugh,” Ginny angrily dashed away the few tears that had escaped to make shining tracks down her pale cheeks. “I wasn’t even that close to her, but- I watched her die. She was asking for her mother and I told her it’d be all right and I knew that was a lie but it was the only thing I could think to say as she lay dying in front of me. We’re not exactly taught deathbed etiquette!”
“I’m so sorry, Ginny.”
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. Like I said, we weren’t close.”
“But watching someone die, even someone you don’t care for, is still a traumatic experience. It’s something we shouldn’t have been put through at our age. And it’s okay to shed a few tears over it, that’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
Ginny scrubbed away the last traces of dampness with the back of her hand and took a deep, calming breath. “It was just the shock- seeing the thestrals for the first time and remembering why,” she said. “I’m fine.”
At that moment, Luna walked up to them. “I think we’d better get going if we don’t want to have to walk all the way to Hogwarts,” she said in dreamy manner that suggested this wouldn’t be a bother at all and might be a delightful way to spend the evening.
“All right, Luna, we’re coming,” said Ginny in forthright tones, all evidence of her moment of emotional outpouring gone.
“I’ve saved a carriage for you,” said Luna, taking each girl by the hand and directing them to the last empty carriage. “It has my favourite threstral pulling it, I can introduce you, if you’d like.”
The idea of being introduced to a thestral made Hermione and Ginny snicker, and the last vestiges of gloom and sadness dissipated as they followed Luna’s lead.
“When we get to Hogwarts, I’ll get some of the special treats they enjoy, and we can visit the thestral pen together. Oh, hello, Maximus, I have two friends I’d like you to meet…”
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