Bolognese Pie
Hermione's face warmed up right away.
She tried to cover it up by picking up a jam pie, and said, "You got these from the kitchen, Fred?"
"Yes." Fred looked at her with a smile and continued to wait for an answer.
"How did you get in?" Hermione asked in a nonchalantly casual tone.
"Call me honey, I'll answer you along with the last question."
There was a smile in his eyes, and one hand rested on his chin, where his slender fingers tapped time after time.
"Tomorrow, can I call……tomorrow?" Hermione tried to delay the time.
"I don't think so,"he slowly pulled off the loose tie, and put it in Hermione's hand, "you have to do it right now."
Hermione signed softly. She looked around, gritted her teeth and let out a soft cry.
"……Honey."
"Ah, good girl."
Fred shook his shoulders with a smile, and rubbed her hair with great satisfaction. "Conveniently, there's a door hidden behind the picture of the bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear and it'll giggle. As for sending the letter—" He stopped, and asked her to come closely.
Hermione leaned forward obediently.
Fred whispered something in her ear, the tip of his straight nose was too close, and the breath from his lips made Hermione's ears numb. Supposedly a normal movement, now is becoming provocative ear-biting between lovers.
Hermione sat back in the armchair and quickly pretended nothing had happened, "Oh—oh……Well, I see."
Just then, Neville suddenly turned into a big canary, temporarily distracting everyone.
"So sorry, Neville!" said Fred, amidst the laughter, "I forgot - this is our bewitched custard biscuit -"
Fortunately, within a minute, Neville had shed his feathers, and when they were all gone, he looked completely normal again. He even laughed with the others.
"Canary biscuits!" Fred announced to the excited crowd. "George and I invented it—seven Sicos a piece, cheap!"
Hermione took the opportunity to run back to the dormitory quickly.
It was almost one o'clock in the morning when she finally got out of the shower and put on her nightgown and lay on the warm bed.
Hermione comforted herself as she drew the curtains of the veil, there was nothing wrong with calling him honey……it didn't mean anything at all……just for exchanging the answers yeah that's right……it doesn't mean she likes him or something like that……don't panic……really……
December brings high winds and sleet to Hogwarts.
Although there is always a draft in the castle in winter, every time the students walked past Durmstrang's big boat parked on the lake, they were grateful for the hot fire and thick walls in the castle.
The great ship pitched and tossed in the gale, its black sails billowing and dancing in the dark night sky. Hermione always wondered how cold it must be in Durmstrang's trailer. She also noticed that Hagrid kept supplying Madame Maxime's steeds with their favorite single malt whiskeys. The smell of alcohol wafted from the feeding trough in the corner of the temporary stable, making the students in the Protection of Magical Creatures class feel a little dizzy. It doesn't do any good, as they're still tending to the dreaded snails, and some wits are needed.
Now there are only ten snails left. Apparently, their desire to kill each other has not been completely eradicated. They were nearly six feet long each now, and yet Hagrid had let them take care of the snails for hibernation, hugging a crate covered with pillows and fluffy blankets.
It turned out that the snails don't hibernate and don't like being stuffed into boxes with pillows and covered. Soon Hagrid was yelling, "Take it easy, take it easy!" as the snails were rampaging through the pumpkin patch, which was already strewn with smoking crate fragments.
Most of the classmates—Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the lead—had escaped into Hagrid's cabin through the back door and shut themselves in. Harry, Ron, Hermione and some other students stayed outside to help Hagrid.
"Yeah, ok, ok...it does look like fun."
Rita Skeeter leaned against the fence in Hagrid's vegetable garden and watched the drama. She was wearing a thick magenta gown today with a purple suede collar, and the crocodile handbag dangled from her arm.
Hermione's heart sank as she noticed that Hagrid's face was flushed behind his shaggy black beard.
Where did Hagrid get those snails? She seemed to be thinking the same thing, and said quickly, "They're interesting, aren't they? Harry, aren't they?"
"What? Oh, yeah...Ouch...yes, very Interesting." Harry faltered as she stepped on his foot.
"Ah, you're here, too, Harry!" said Rita Skeeter, turning away without looking at Hermione. "So you like Care of Fantastic Beasts, don't you? Your favourite class?"
"Yes." Harry said unequivocally. Hagrid looked at him with a wide smile.
"Great," said Rita, "really great. Are the teaching hours long?" she asked Hagrid again.
Hermione found her looking at Dean (who had an ugly gash on one side of his cheek), Lavender (a chunk of her robes was charred), Seamus (who was nursing several burnt fingers), and then her eyes moved to the window of the cabin, where most of the classmates stood with their noses pressed against the glass, trying to see if the danger was over.
"Just in my second year," said Hagrid.
"Great... Wondering if you'd like to do an interview, huh? Share your experience teaching the protection of magical animals with readers? The Daily Prophet has a zoology column every Wednesday, I think you must know. We can introduce these -- um -- rattle wolves."
Hermione felt that this was a bit bad, but under the eyes of Rita Skeeter, she couldn't convey this thought to Hagrid, so she stood aside and watched Hagrid and Rita Skeeter arranged to meet at The Three Broomsticks later this week for a long chat. At this time, the castle bell rang, and the lesson was over.
"She'll twist every word Hagrid said." Harry said in a low voice.
"I hope Hagrid hasn't illegally imported those snails and stuff," said Hermione anxiously.
"Hagrid's been in a lot of trouble before, and Dumbledore never fired him," Ron reassured them. "The worst possibility is that Hagrid has to get rid of the snails. I'm sorry... did I say the worst? I mean the best."
Neither Harry nor Ron had overlapping classes with Hermione in the afternoon class, so the two of them went to the auditorium to find her after class.
But Hermione was not at the dinner table, and they went to the library to look for her later, but she was nowhere to be seen.
There was only Viktor Krum alone. Ron lingered behind the bookshelf for a while, watching Krum, arguing quietly with Harry whether he should get his autograph - but then Ron spotted half a dozen girls hiding by the next row of bookshelves, arguing about the same thing. After that, he lost enthusiasm for the idea immediately.
"That's weird, where is Hermione?" said Ron as they returned to Gryffindor Tower with Harry.
"I don't know...Panapple juice."
The Fat Lady had just started to turn forward when there was the sound of hurried footsteps behind them, and Hermione was coming.
"Harry!" she gasped, stopping abruptly, "Harry, you must come—you must come, the most extraordinary thing has happened—please, come—”
She grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him down the corridor.
"What happened?"
"When we get there you'll see—oh, come on, come on—"
Both Harry and Ron looked puzzled.
"Hermione, where are we going?" Harry asked. By this time she had led them down six flights of stairs and was descending the marble staircase into the foyer below.
At the bottom of the stairs, she turned left and hurried toward a door. They came to a broad stone gallery, brightly lit by torches, and decorated here and there with cheerful pictures, chiefly of things to eat.
"Oh, wait..." Harry said slowly, halfway down the stone corridor, "wait a minute, Hermione..."
He nudged Ron and pointed at the picture behind Hermione, which showed a huge silver bowl full of fruit.
"Hermione!" said Ron, realizing, "you're trying to convince us to join your 'vomit' trick again!"
"What? No, no!" she said anxiously, "and not vomiting, you—"
"What, changed the name?" Ron held on. "Then what is it? House-elf Liberation Front? I'm not going to rush into the kitchen and mobilize them to stop working, I'm never going to—"
Hermione looks so pissed that she wanted to punch Ron in the face, so that she wouldn't have to give a speech attacking her for defending house-elves anytime soon.
"I didn't ask you to do that!" she said impatiently. "I was here just now, and I talked to them, and I found out—oh, come on, Harry, I'm going to show you!"
She took Harry's arm and drew him to the picture of the big fruit bowl. Stretching out his index finger, he gently scratched the big green pear.
Pear squirmed, giggled, and suddenly turned into a big green doorknob. Hermione grabbed it and pulled the door open, pushing Harry hard on the back and pushing him inside.
Thus ensues the heartwarming scene of Harry and Dobby reuniting. Hermione watched with relief as Dobby excitedly told Harry the story of the past two years. Harry also saw Winky, and was quite surprised.
When he was about to leave, many elves gathered around and handed them many snacks for them to take upstairs. Hermione didn't take anything. Although the soft and oily meat sauce pie looked very appetizing, she felt uncomfortable when she saw the elves bowing and curtseying. Harry and Ron did pack plenty of brioche and pumpkin pie in their pockets.
"You know what?" said Ron—they had just left the kitchen and were heading up the stairs leading to the hall. "It's actually not that difficult, is it? Getting food from the kitchen? All those years I thought Fred and George are so talented……The elves are so enthusiastic about stuffing things for you!"
"Come on, without Fred we wouldn't even be able to find the door in the wall." Hermione gave him a blank look and led the way up the marble stairs.
"It's not difficult to find a door." Ron said vaguely, biting a cream cake.