Deliberation, Desperation and Deduction
The next morning, right after breakfast, Fred and Hermione walked hand-in-hand along the corridors that made up the rest of the seventh floor. While this floor of the castle housed the portrait of the Fat Lady, and by extension, the Gryffindor common room, it also housed Professor Flitwick’s classroom, some empty classrooms used for practice and Professor Dumbledore’s office. As they walked around the expansive seventh floor, searching for either Professor McGonagall or the stone griffin she had asked them to look out for, Hermione noticed that several students glanced in their direction and held Fred’s hand a little tighter. Hermione’s chest constricted and she felt anxiety bubble up inside of her. One would think that she was used to the attention, being friends with Harry and all, but it never got easier. She often felt like eyes were upon her at all times.
“Hey,” Fred’s soft voice called, breaking Hermione out of her thoughts. Her large brown eyes casted over to his face and he reassured her with a smile. “You alright? You looked like you were far away for a second there.” His right hand squeezed her left. Hermione nodded and gulped, the lump in her throat feeling a bit more bearable as Fred spoke.
“Yes, I’m just fine,” she replied. She let out a shakey breath. Fred squeezed her hand again and she squeezed back this time. “I just feel like we are going to be the hot gossip of the day, is all. Sometimes, I wish that my life could just be mine… that no one would care.”
Fred sighed but his smile stayed. “Well, Hermione, I would say that you’re pretty hard to ignore. I know I couldn’t stay away from you.”
Hermione inhaled to calm herself and realized the air was scented with Fred’s aftershave. The two wore casual clothing as school term hadn’t started quite yet and he was wearing one of his knitted jumpers and jeans while she was wearing her thick black leggings and Fred’s hooded Ireland Quidditch jumper that was officially hers as of last night. They both wore white trainers, something that Fred had commented on when he had first seen her this morning.
“I’m a little nervous, you know,” Fred said after a moment. “For the talk. I don’t know what they’re going to do to Angelina and Lee.”
“Lee didn’t mean to be a contributor,” Hermione replied. “But Angelina? It was all a pre-meditated plan for her.”
They spotted the stone griffin – Fred had always thought it was simply another statue – and McGonagall stood in front of it with her hands in the pockets of her black robes. She wore a long green shawl overtop, which accented the green of her eyes as they were turned away from the pair, lost in thought. Her thin lips were pursed. When Fred and Hermione drew nearer, Fred cleared his throat and McGonagall’s head whipped round. When she spotted the two Gryffindors and saw that they held hands, McGonagall cocked an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued at the sight of them. The corners of her lips tugged in a smile that was difficult to conceal.
“Well, I’m happy to see that something good came out of all of this, although I am a little surprised,” the Scottish matron said. She clasped her hands together and moved to stand on the last of the stone steps the griffin protected. “Miss Granger, if I’m honest, I thought you were more interested in the younger Mr. Weasley.”
Hermione almost laughed. “No, Professor, I most certainly was not.” Fred smirked and said nothing. Hermione continued. “Anyway, it’s a long story but Fred and I have been seeing each other for around two months. Seeing him kiss someone else was – well, it was honestly very unsettling.”
The Deputy Headmistress looked between the two quickly and realized that at Hermione’s words, Fred had started to look guilty. Her gaze softened and she sighed.
“Your actions were not truly your own, Mr. Weasley. Do not burden yourself with a heavy heart.”
Fred and Hermione stepped forward to join their professor on the last of the stone steps. When Fred’s expression hadn’t changed, McGonagall reached forward with her right hand and patted the Weasley boy’s left shoulder.
“Mr. Weasley, I just want you to know that we are going to take this very seriously.”
Fred nodded once and ducked his head down, lowering his chin to his chest. “Thank you, Professor. I would appreciate that.”
Professor McGonagall removed her hand from Fred’s shoulder and in the next motion, she lifted her arms up. She splayed her fingers wide and concentrated.
“Acid Pop,” she commanded.
The wings of the stone griffin that wrapped around the exterior edge of the rounded staircase shifted and then the staircase was rotating upward in a clockwise direction. There wasn’t much that surprised Fred nowadays but this definitely did – whenever he or George had been reprimanded in the past, they hadn’t been taken to the Headmaster’s office. In fact, Fred was sure that the Headmaster preferred to let the professors of Hogwarts School penalize them in the moment rather than come up to the office so that he could do it himself. After all, the Headmaster had had more important things to do with his time.
The staircase continued to rise in circular motions for what felt like forever and at long last, the griffin slowed to a stop. Its stone feathers ruffled for a moment upon its wings and then it was still. Professor McGonagall stepped out first, followed by Hermione and then Fred. Dumbledore’s office was circular, shaped naturally to follow the curvature of the tower it was housed in. Most of the walls were adorned with painted portraits of past headmasters, all doing their own various activities within their frames. Some brewed potions, others read books or scribbled on parchment with their large quills. They wore various styles of robes, all different fabrics, all reflected their time period within Hogwarts’ hallowed halls. Wherever there was blank wall space, there were large ornate bookshelves made from a dark wood to cover the stone. The bookshelves stood tall like soldiers, and housed hundreds of books. To Hermione’s delight, some floated off their current shelves and bobbed through the air as if pulled by an invisible string, headed to a new home on a shelf across the office. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Fred staring at her and turned to look at him.
“What?” she asked with a small laugh. “I love magic.”
“Just you,” Fred said simply. “You light up, you know.”
At that moment, Dumbledore descended from the raised platform behind his desk and walked down the set of stairs on the left-hand side. Neither Hermione, Fred or McGonagall had noticed him when they had entered. Professor McGonagall dipped her head once as a sign of a respect and moved to stand on the right side of the Headmaster’s desk.
“Good morning, Minerva,” Dumbledore greeted. “Can I try to interest you in a sweet?”
“No, thank you, Albus, I really don’t think sweets are appropriate this early in the morning.”
Dumbledore crossed from the bottom of the stairs to his chair behind his desk. He slowly sat down and looked to the two Gryffindor students that stood before him. His long, aged fingers reached forward and he took a wrapped sweet from a little glass bowl on his desk. They fiddled with the wrapper the sweet was enrobed in and when the confection was free, the elder wizard popped the candy into his mouth. He pursed his lips; the candy was sour.
“Well, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, I know that we are meeting this morning under some more serious circumstances,” he began. “We are just waiting on Professor Snape, Miss Johnson and Mr. Jordan to arrive and then we shall begin.”
Fred stepped forward once and let go of Hermione’s hand in the process.
“If I may speak, sir, I would like to tell my version of the story prior to their arrival,” Fred began. “I think you would hear it best from me – from my experiences.”
Dumbledore’s blue eyes looked over his half-moon spectacles and seemed to consider Fred very carefully. Hermione’s eyes flickered to the back of Fred’s head and she watched her boyfriend lean forward a little, in anticipation of the Headmaster’s answer.
“If you feel so inclined,” Dumbledore replied. “But as long as you’re sure you want to divulge first.” The Headmaster sighed and tapped his fingers on the top of his desk lightly. “Would you like us to keep Miss Johnson and Mr. Jordan out of the office until you’re done sharing? For privacy?”
Fred shook his head. “No, if they come in, I want them to hear what I have to say.”
Professor McGonagall gave Fred an encouraging nod. “Go ahead, Mr. Weasley, give us your account.”
Fred’s head turned over his left shoulder so that he could look to Hermione. She gave him a small smile and then stepped forward to place her right hand on his back. She rubbed his back in soft circular motions.
“You can do it, Freddie,” she whispered. “They’ll listen and support and we will come to a proper solution.” She then stepped back away from him to give him his spotlight. Fred sucked in a deep breath and flexed his fingers a few times. Then he opened his mouth and started to speak.
Snape joined them in the office as Fred first started to explain about when he first started to take interest in Hermione – when he had saved her from slipping in the snow. Fred then regaled about how he had run into Hermione at Hogsmeade and how they had turned it into a date of sorts. He even admitted to the Headmaster about kissing Hermione in the classroom after the Hogsmeade date, a point that made Professor McGonagall scoff and suck in a breath while a smirk formed on Snape’s lips.
Angelina and Lee showed up as Fred talked about how he admitted his love, or how he was falling for Hermione – and how he wanted to protect her from the scrutiny of the students. He wanted to protect her from Skeeter’s articles that, when published, read more like blackmail. He talked about how he didn’t appreciate that Skeeter wrote slander about a student’s love life, alluding that she was a slag, and that no one from the faculty at Hogwarts had even thought to protect her. He didn’t look at Angelina or Lee as he chastised the school for doing nothing. Professor Dumbledore took it in stride and barely reacted.
The last thing that Fred mentioned was the Yule Ball – how he had taken Angelina as a friend – how they had played Truth or Dare. How it had been a way to save Hermione for one more week – how they had planned to be a couple after that night. And how he had felt under the effects of Angelina’s potion, including what he had experienced and what he had seen. As he added more details to this web of a story, Professor McGonagall visibly stared down both Angelina and Lee. When Fred was done, he took a step back away from the Headmaster’s desk and took Hermione’s hand in his once more. She rested her head on his shoulder.
Professor Dumbledore ran his hand along his beard as he thought over the details of what Fred Weasley had said. He then looked to Lee and Angelina. “Mr. Jordan, Miss Johnson, welcome to my office. As I’m sure you’ve heard since arriving, Mr. Weasley here seems to be in a bit of distress based on actions you both helped cause. He is supposed to be a friend of yours, is he not?”
Lee, his features resigned, nodded with downcast eyes. He was very meek as he addressed the Headmaster. “Yes, Professor, he’s my best mate.” Angelina said nothing.
“If you would please walk us through your version of what happened, Mr. Jordan,” McGonagall urged from her place beside the Headmaster. “I’m sure we would be most enlightened upon hearing it.”
Lee sucked in a breath. “Well, you see, Professors – I know I had a part to play in all of this as I was the one who initiated the Truth or Dare game. However, I’m not sure I can enlighten you all that much. We did dare Fred to kiss Angelina – when he didn’t want to, we, George and I, watched Angelina give him his punch and then Fred was willingly snogging her and we thought – honestly, we thought he had just changed his mind. But they stopped kissing and then Fred told us he felt odd – he then told us he was in love with Hermione and thought he had been kissing her when he was kissing Angelina and that he suspected Angelina had slipped him something.”
Angelina hissed. “You’re selling me out?! That is not what we rehearsed, you were supposed to – ”
McGonagall’s mouth drew into a thin line. “Miss Johnson, you will be silent until it is your turn to speak. If you interrupt again, I will have to you wait out on the stairs,” she ordered but Snape intercepted the Deputy Headmistress as he stepped forward, himself.
“One moment, Minerva,” he drawled, his eyes boring into Angelina. “I heard Miss Johnson say the words, ‘rehearsed’ and ‘supposed’ – could you please enlighten us, Miss Johnson, on what you and Mr. Jordan had rehearsed?”
Lee sighed and shook his head. Angelina crossed her arms, indignant, and when she spoke, there was anger in her voice.
“It was supposed to be harmless!” she practically shouted. “It was supposed to be harmless, it was supposed to stop Fred from falling for her!”
Hermione bristled. “I’m not just a her, Angelina, I have bloody name!”
Angelina turned to face Hermione. “Oh, you have a name, alright!” she snapped. “I reckon your name is “Slag” !”
“That is quite enough!” McGonagall shouted. At the sound of her voice, all four Gryffindor students jumped. The elder witch took a deep breath to calm herself and then stepped around the Headmaster’s desk to stand before them.
“Miss Johnson, while Miss Skeeter had written that Miss Granger may have had romantic connections with Mr. Potter or Mr. Krum – not saying that it is true, Miss Granger, just stating that articles were made – it is not within your right nor is it your place to pass judgments on another student for their proclivities, rumoured or true. And while it is clear that you had intentions that were meant to be playful in nature by means of kissing and potentially starting a relationship with Mr. Weasley here, the reality is that you could have severely hurt him. He could have had altered brain chemistry, been poisoned or even died.”
When Angelina didn’t say anything, McGonagall continued.
“Miss Johnson, there is a reason that Potion Masters or Mistresses earn their titles – they brew potions for years and years to become certified, honing their craft. You cannot possibly expect that that potion that you made was completely and fully safe. Do you deny that you made this potion?”
Angelina was humbled by McGonagall’s rant. “No,” she said softly.
“And do you deny that you gave it to Mr. Weasley, no matter what your intentions were?”
Angelina coughed and cleared her throat. She mumbled something. McGonagall stepped closer to the sixth-year and Hermione watched as Angelina visibly flinched.
“What was that? Please speak up, Miss Johnson, I am an old woman after all,” McGonagall demanded.
“I said no,” Angelina replied, her voice a little louder. She couldn’t look at the Head of Gryffindor’s face. McGonagall’s mouth set in a hard line at her reply and the older witch turned to look at the Headmaster. To Hermione’s surprise, when she turned her gaze to look away from Angelina, she found that Dumbledore was already staring at her. Hermione’s body tightened as she felt the anxiety bubble up again. Fred noticed and squeezed her hand, like he had earlier in the corridor.
“Miss Granger, before we give Miss Johnson and Mr. Jordan their punishments, is there anything else you would like to add?”
Hermione shook her head.
“Not really, sir. Though, I don’t find Lee nearly as problematic in this situation – he was just starting a game. He shouldn’t be punished if he didn’t truly know Angelina’s intentions. And he didn’t know that Fred was interested in me until after the potion was given – I don’t think his intentions were to harm myself or Fred.” She then looked over to Lee, who mouthed the words “Thank you.” She gave him a small nod and then looked back to the Headmaster.
Dumbledore seemed to consider Hermione’s words for a moment and then he stood up. His robes, velvet and shaded a deep aubergine, billowed upon the floor as he walked.
“Miss Johnson, I find your actions dangerous and abhorrent. What’s worse, I find that you don’t regret the actions you have taken – rather, you have simply defended them as not being your true intention. This, I also find despicable.”
His voice was calm as he spoke. Angelina’s eyes never left the Headmaster.
“This behaviour is most uncharacteristic of a student of Gryffindor, a house that is mostly about bravery and courage. If you wanted to be brave and fight for the affections of Mr. Weasley, I would have suggested asking him on a date, as you young people do. Putting yourself in a vulnerable state is an ultimate act of courageousness.”
He walked around his desk and moved to stand before Angelina, about a foot away from her.
“Miss Johnson, did you ever ask Mr. Weasley on a date?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you ever express to any of your mutual friends that you had feelings for Mr. Weasley?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you regret giving him the potion?”
Angelina bit her lower lip as she thought. “I don’t regret kissing him, Professor. I only regret that it didn’t do it’s intended purpose, which was to help him realize that he was in love with me and not Hermione.”
Professor Dumbledore frowned. “What a disappointing response.” He then turned his head to the left slightly, his eyes wandering over to the Potions Master.
“Professor Snape,” he began, calling over his shoulder. “Do you have anything to add?”
Snape was ominous where he stood in the corner, a shadow of darkness surrounded by all of the natural golden light in Dumbledore’s office. He scowled from behind the curtain of his oily black hair. “I only want to reiterate that what Miss Johnson did was very dangerous – and it’s important that she understands how grave her error may have been. Potions are a true craft and not something to toy with under any circumstances.”
Angelina sucked in a breath and Hermione watched the other witch’s eyes flicker between the Potions Master and the Headmaster.
“What is my punishment?” she finally asked of Dumbledore. “Am I being sentenced to Azkaban?”
“I find your tone very flippant,” Dumbledore observed. “Perhaps the Sorting Hat put you in the wrong house five years ago.”
At his accusation, Angelina flinched again. “Sorry, sir,” she apologized, her tone soft again. “Am I being sentenced to Azkaban for what I’ve done?”
“No,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “But you are going to leave the school.”
Hermione’s mouth, as did Fred and Lee’s, dropped open.
“I’m expelled then,” Angelina said, her tone even. Dumbledore’s eyes scanned her face from behind his half-moon spectacles.
“No,” he said again. “However, you are suspended for a month and we want you off the property during that time. We have sent for your parents and they have taken a Portkey to the castle gates. Hagrid has gone to meet them. You will Portkey home with them and stay there.”
“Am I still to do my lessons, sir?” Angelina asked. Professor Dumbledore shook his head.
“Not in the same way, Miss Johnson. You see, we don’t trust you at present with magic, potion-making or crafting of any kind. Therefore, you are to do written essays for the entire time. Professor Snape went round to all of your professors last night to obtain written instructions for each essay.” He held out his left hand and the Potions Master stepped forward and place a folded sheet of parchment in his palm. The Headmaster then handed it to Angelina.
“Miss Johnson, I must press upon you that the only reason that a member of the Wizengamot wasn’t here to also interfere and potentially escalate your case in front of the court was because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley did not want to press charges against you.”
“My mum and dad?” Fred asked, confused. Professor McGonagall answered.
“Yes, Mr. Weasley – after Professor Snape told me of the potion results last night, I Flooed to your parents’ house for an hour or so,” she began. “They told me that they already knew part of the story, both from the letter that I had written and from some interesting revelations over Christmas.”
Here, she looked between Hermione and Fred and Hermione had the decency to blush.
“However, when I added that it had really all been the effect of Miss Johnson’s potion, they decided that since the reality was that you, Mr. Weasley, were live and well, and because they didn’t want to agonize you any further, they decided to not press criminal charges against Miss Johnson on your behalf. Which again…”
Here, she looked to Angelina and addressed her specifically.
“- Is why we have not sent for a Wizengamot member. Be that as it may, as this was a serious occurrence that happened in our school, we did have to report it to the Ministry as per our protocol. Miss Johnson, I’m sorry to say that your name will be added to a monitoring list for the remainder of your time here at Hogwarts School. They will consider you as a potential threat and will want to make sure that nothing like this happens again. A Wizengamot member or Mafalda Hopkirk, herself, will be in touch with you every three months to keep an eye. Should they, at any point, feel as though you are threatening another student again – they have every right to demand your immediate expulsion from the school and you will be taken to be tried as an adult in court and face potential time within the walls of Azkaban.”
“All this for some stupid prank,” Angelina muttered with a roll of her eyes. At the cheek of her answer, something in McGonagall snapped and her eyes flashed as she drew up to her fullest height and glared menacingly at Angelina. Before she could say anything, Professor Snape put a hand on the witch’s left arm to steady her and brought her back a few steps. Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.
“Miss Johnson, you will leave us immediately and head down to the main doors of the castle. Mr. Filch is waiting just on the other side of my office doors. Away with you.”
Angelina was shocked at being so harshly dismissed but turned heel and fled quickly. Dumbledore’s eyes then shifted to fixate on Lee.
“As for you, Mr. Jordan, you have come to understand that pranks and folly can sometimes end in hurt and anguish. It is my understanding that you have already apologized to Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger?”
Lee nodded. “Yes, sir, I have.”
Dumbledore’s smile was soft. “Then I think a proper penance for you will be a week’s worth of detentions, perhaps helping Professor McGonagall here grade some first-year assignments.”
Lee Jordan looked to the Deputy Headmistress, who had calmed down a little with the help of Professor Snape, who had since encouraged her to sit down in the Headmaster’s chair.
“If you’ll have me, Professor. I promise I won’t be as annoying as when I announce Quidditch – you won’t even know I’m there, I’ll be quite as a mouse.”
McGonagall rubbed in between her eyebrows with her fingers. “Yes, yes, Mr. Jordan, I can’t think of anything I would want better,” she said, sarcastically. “Now off with you, please, and leave this old woman in peace for one more day.”
Lee fought the urge to laugh and Hermione gave him a little wave before he left. Then the Headmaster turned his attention to back to her and Fred. She gulped.
“Miss Granger, you are one of our brightest students,” Dumbledore began. “Due to your academic achievements, you have done so much for this school already in your short time here. I am sorry that our lack of protection regarding Skeeter’s articles didn’t reflect that appreciation. From now on, we will do our best to intercept any such articles.”
Hermione nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
Professor Dumbledore turned to Fred. “Mr. Weasley, I assume you feel more comfortable now that Miss Johnson has left the school premises. Upon her return, should that feeling change, do let me know. We can alter your schedule perhaps so that you’re not in a similar environment.”
Fred sucked in a breath. “Honestly, sir, it’s hard to see Angelina get in trouble. We were such good friends, you see, and I never thought…” Fred ran a hand through his shaggy mop of ginger hair. “Out of all of this, I reckon that I’m just lucky to still have Hermione. She didn’t have to believe what happened to me but she did. I don’t deserve her. I don’t think I could have faced this without her.”
Dumbledore smiled knowingly. “Yes, young love is a powerful thing. Very powerful indeed. If there is nothing else to say, you two may go.”
Hermione looked to Professor Snape. “Thank you for investigating the potion, Professor. We really appreciate it.”
Snape, who was still at McGonagall’s side near the Headmaster’s chair, nodded once. “Of course, Miss Granger.”
“Yes, thank you,” Fred added.
The two Gryffindors turned and left the office. As they started to descend the stone stairs, Dumbledore’s withered voice called after them.
“No stopping in cupboards, cabinets or classrooms on your way back to your common room!”
Fred smirked. “Well now, the old fool has just given me the most wonderful idea,” he whispered into Hermione’s ear. Hermione shivered and looked to him as they continued to descend.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, although a smirk of her own was forming on her lips.
They reached the carpeted hall of the seventh floor and Fred practically pulled her down the corridor. “Well, Dumbledore said no cupboards, cabinets or classrooms,” he said simply. They started to descend another set of stairs, headed Merlin knows where, with Hermione following blindly. “He didn’t say no staircases.”
Before Hermione could react to what Fred was saying, he had pressed her against the stone wall of the castle staircase and had his mouth on her neck. Her hands immediately went to pull his hair and she pressed her hips further into his.
“Fred Weasley, you want to snog in the stairwell?” she asked with a giggle against his lips. “Who are you?”
Fred’s reply was to capture her lower lip in between his teeth and pull. When her giggle gave way to a moan, he released her lip and gave a grin of his own.
“I could say the same thing about you, Granger,” he said. His right hand travelled down the side of her body. “Now this is going to be fast and quick so I want you to focus on how you feel and let go when you’re ready.” He then slipped his right hand into the front of her leggings and as his fingers found her clit, his left hand pressed over her mouth. Hermione’s eyes went wide and her legs already started to tremble. Fred’s lips were on her neck.
“Oh, my sweet little love, you love my touch that much?” he teased against her skin. Hermione nodded and then closed her eyes, focusing on the sensations of two of Fred’s fingers rubbing rapidly over her clit back and forth and in little circles. There was more pressure as his hand was constricted by the fabric of her leggings and underwear and it felt different than it had the night before. Her legs continued to shake. Fred bit her neck. His fingers then snuck down even further and he slightly turned the angle of his hand so that two fingers could slip inside her. She was slick and wet and wanting and that him groan against her neck.
His left hand was still over her mouth and Hermione finally let out a gasp against the skin of his palm. “Fuck, Freddie,” she cursed. “That feels so – fuck.” He started to pump his fingers faster and Hermione knew she was going to come undone in a matter of seconds. Stars started to prick at the edges of her vision and she sighed. Her stomach started to tighten.
“Quick and fast, Hermione,” Fred moaned as he pulled away from her neck and brought his forehead to hers. “Open your eyes, look at me when you finish.”
Hermione did as was commanded and found herself staring into Fred’s warm brown eyes. He lowered his left palm from her mouth so that they could kiss and as their lips met, Fred’s fingers continued to pump within her while his thumb flicked her clit, once, twice. That was it – she was done.
She cried out quietly into his mouth, a sound he swallowed and he continued to pump his fingers within her, hitting a sweet spot that she didn’t know she had while her body clenched around him. Her breathing grew shallow as the stars and Fred’s eyes became all that she saw. After a few seconds, she came down from her high and kissed Fred fervently. The ginger wizard pulled his fingers from her and took his wand out of his back pocket. He pointed it at his fingers and muttered Scourgify. His hand was now clean.
“Do you think there’s a Prefect that would be nice enough to let us in to the large bath?” he mused as his brought his lips down to hers again. “I think it would be quite nice to have a bath with you, clean each other up, you know? Just innocently throwing that out there.”
Hermione smirked against Fred’s lips. “Fred Weasley, you’re a boy obsessed.”
“Only for you, darling. Only for you.”
When they broke their kiss, they turned their heads to see that Harry and Ron were standing at the entrance to the stairwell. Hermione turned bright red.
“How … how much of that did you see?” she asked of her best friends. Ron looked uncomfortable, Harry was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Just you two kissing,” the Chosen One replied. “Why? Were you two doing something else before?”
Fred wrinkled his nose at Harry’s comment. “Now why on earth would we ever do that?” he answered. “Your ’Mione is the perfect picture of innocence.”
Hermione rolled her eyes but giggled nonetheless. “Fred, stop it.” She pulled away from her boyfriend and walked up the couple steps to Harry and Ron. “Fred and I have already eaten but we were thinking of going down for a picnic at the Black Lake. Do you two want to come?”
“Sure,” Ron answered as he looked from her face to his brother’s. “You know, I’m still not sure how I feel about you two together.”
Fred chuckled from below them. “That’s alright, Ron. I don’t think she’s going anywhere anytime soon, so get used to it.”
They all headed back up to the Gryffindor common room and changed into warm outer layers, inviting George, a surprised Lee, Dean, Seamus, Neville and Ginny all down to the lake with them. For the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon, with food that had been nicked from the kitchens and a bunch of charmed Gryffindor blankets, the group of Gryffindors spent a pleasant time by the Black Lake, admiring the Durmstrang ship as it bobbed on its mooring place within the water and watched as two sets of large wooden scaffolding started to be built in the middle of the lake.
“I wonder what that’s for,” George remarked as he popped some grapes into his mouth.
“Beats me,” said Neville. “Seamus, you got any clue?”
The Irish half-blood shook his head. “Not the foggiest,” he replied. “Maybe it has something to do with the Second Task. Have you figured out your egg yet, Harry?”
Hermione watched from her place on Fred’s lap as Harry shook his head. “No – it just screeches anytime I open it.”
Hermione sighed. “Maybe we can charm it? Or maybe one of the other Champions has had a clue. I could ask Viktor.”
Fred kissed Hermione’s cheek. “Do you think he would tell you if he knew? Krum, that is?”
Hermione shrugged. “It’s worth a shot to ask if it will help Harry. We’re friends, he might tell me if he knows something. It’s possible that he could be just as stuck as we all are.”
When the sun started to set, the group headed back toward the castle for dinner, Hermione and Fred hand-in-hand as they walked with everyone else.
“You know, Hermione, I meant what I said today,” Fred started. “About the fact that I’m lucky to have you – how you could have just left me. Besides my family, you are the most important thing in my life. It would kill me if I lost you.”
Hermione giggled and quickly pressed a kiss to her boyfriend’s lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, echoing the other statement that Fred had said to Harry and Ron earlier that day. “Not anytime soon.”
A/N: Can you guess what comes next, dear readers?
I am planning on having one more chapter posted before the Christmas holiday begin but if I don’t end up posting, I wish you all a Happy Christmas! As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! xx