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Curtain Call by Sassy
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Curtain Call

Sassy

A/N: sbys, you did NOT copy me. So stress less, m'dear!

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Hermione opened one eye and then the other. Her kitten, Salem was looking at her with a puzzled look on it's face. After the passing of Crookshanks, her next present from her best friends was this bundle of fur. Hermione couldn't help feeling traitorous to Crookshanks at first, but now loved the kitten very much and - to Ron's disgust (he never had gotten over his dislike of That Cat, as he would call him) - still kept a picture on her dresser.

'Rise and shine!' crowed Harry from across the room. He flicked his wand at the curtains, which opened.

Hermione screwed up her eyes in the bright light and poked her tongue out at Harry. 'I don't like you, Potter.' She said, pulling the duvet over her head.

Harry, not deterred, pulled it off her and threw it on the floor. 'Come on, I have to show you something!' he whined, sitting beside her.

Hermione opened one eye and stared straight at her best friend who was looking at her so earnestly. 'Fine, fine.' She muttered, caving in. Harry smiled happily, and turned around so she could change. She put on her school shirt, skirt and jumper and ran a brush through her hair.

Harry grinned at her and linked an arm through hers as they made their way downstairs on the chilly autumn morning.

They made their way up to the Astronomy Tower and Hermione's mouth fell open. She entered the room uncertainly and glanced dubiously at a broom which was precisely the right height for her to mount. She sent him a look.

Harry pouted. 'I made it!'

'You what?'

'Remember the other day,' said Harry. 'When me and Ron were talking about the latest Nimbus and you said you could make a broom too, and you worked out all the aero-dynamics and what-not?'

Hermione nodded slowly, a grin forming on her face.

Harry waved a bit of parchment with figures written all over in what was unmistakably Hermione's own tiny handwriting.

'You didn't . . .' she said slowly.

'You're good with your head.' He said. 'I'm good with my hands.' He held them out.

Hermione smiled. 'You know, with my head and your hands, we could do great things.'

'What would your head want to do with my hands?'

'We could form a new company,' said Hermione getting excited. 'A new brand of racing broom. . .'

'We could be the first husband and wife . . .' Harry stopped abruptly, reddened and putting his hands in his pockets. Where on earth had that little statement come from? 'Forget that.' He added.

'I think you'd make a lovely husband.' Said Hermione gently, she nudged him as if to say that she didn't mind.

'Bet you'd be good with kids.' He said gruffly.

At that moment, Harry looked at her and couldn't imagine ever being without her in his life. Her comforting words, her trust. Harry coughed nervously and felt afraid of emotions building inside him, scared of what they meant. He hastened to change the subject. 'What'll we call it?'

'Emerald.' She said absently, looking into his eyes.

Harry hesitated before moving a bit closer. 'Emerald?'

'The colour of your eyes.' She said, whispering now because their faces were so close.

'What about yours?' suggested Harry.

'What,' scoffed Hermione. 'Boring brown?'

'No. Golden.' He said, tracing a hand down her face.

The door banged open, and they sprang apart, both flushing furiously. Hermione bit her lip and looked down at the floor.

'Cool, is that the broom you were on about?' said Seamus, oblivious to any sentiment, thereof.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, when he saw Hermione leaving. 'Hermione!' he said instead.

Hermione turned and looked him straight in the eyes. 'I have to get ready for class.' She said simply. Walking briskly away, she broke into a run when she felt the burning gaze of Harry's eyes could no longer see her.

'So,' said Seamus. 'You were saying?'

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Hermione's thoughts were racing as she gathered her books in her dorm. She paused when she saw a picture of herself, Harry, Ron and Lavender together. She picked up the slender frame she kept it in and watch as her photographic self, smile back at her and kiss Harry on the cheek. Harry in turn, encircled an arm around her waist and held her to him. Hermione swallowed and sat back on her bed.

Her alarm clock ran loudly and she glanced at it impatiently. 'Late for Advanced Defense Against Dark Arts,' it cried gleefully. Hermione gasped and ran out of the room quickly, looking back to see Salem's eyes looking back at her reproachfully.

She ran straight into Professor McGonagall, apologized and slipped into the classroom just as Professor Newmanl was in the act of hanging up his walking cane on a golden claw. She skidded to a halt and flung herself into her usual seat, propping her head on her hands.

'I trust you won't be late again.' He said, giving her a stern look.

She reddened and fiddled with the tip of her quill.

'As you all must know,' said Professor Newman. 'Dark Magic is getting ever stronger. So I have given you a project which you will do in groups of four - each different - that has absolutely nothing to do with it.'

Ron and Harry exchanged a look, and instinctively friends moved closer together in hope that they would be in the same group. Malfoy snorted derisively at the trio in front of him and ignored Crabbe and Goyle's stupid remarks.

Ron took the slip of paper handed to him by Professor Newman and a smile spread across his face at the first two names and then was replaced so fast by a scowl of such a degree that Hermione's was unsure that he smiled at all. Hermione examined her own slip and rolled her eyes. Typical.

'This can't be a coincidence!' said Harry angrily. 'Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy and yourself will be working on Ancient Dark Arts.' He read aloud. 'This is some stupid thing to educate us. This isn't Advance Defense Against Dark Arts - this is Defense Against Voldemort.'

Several students looked uneasy at the usage of his name.

'Believe me, Potter.' Said Malfoy smoothly. 'This is no pleasure for me either.' His eyes flicked over to Hermione.

'I can't work with him,' spat Hermione.

'Work with, Miss Granger,' said Professor Newman. 'Not marry.'

Hermione exhaled loudly, clutching her books to her chest, gripping it so tightly that her knuckles were white.

'Go on to the library,' said their Professor again, cheerily. 'Go research.'

Ron and Malfoy exchanging filthy looks, they stalked out of the now silent classroom, metallic footsteps echoing through the dungeon.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

They had been working in silence, and the only sounds were rustling of parchment, scratching of quills and turning of heavy volumes. As seventh years who were doing Advance Defense Against Dark Arts, they were allowed to use the Restricted Section of the library.

Malfoy opened yet another volume which caused Ron to pass him a dirty look. 'Why do you bother?' he said, harshly.

Malfoy licked the tip of his index finger and turned a page. 'I'm not sure what you mean, Weasley.'

'Hasn't daddy taught you all his Death Eater ways yet?' Ron said. 'We know he is one. Harry saw him.'

Malfoy's eyes turned to Harry. 'It's none of your concern.' He said icily. 'You,' his eyes rested on Ron. 'should be worrying about whether those second hand robes of yours will last you another year.'

'It's getting old, Malfoy.' Said Hermione.

'Keep your Mudblood head out of my business.' Retorted Malfoy.

Harry stood up quickly. 'Shut the hell up, Malfoy.' He said through clenched teeth. 'I know your dad's a Death Eater. And I know that you probably will follow in his slimy footsteps.'

'Don't you dare assume anything about me,' said Malfoy. 'Or my father.'

'Boys!' clucked Madame Pince at them, looking around the bookshelf.

Hermione watched Malfoy's hands tremble as they turned another page of the book. 'Do you think this project is for us to learn more about the Dark Arts?' she said, changing the subject.

Harry hesitated. 'Probably.'

Hermione nodded and returned to her perusal of her book. 'Harry,' she said suddenly. 'Look at this.'

Harry leant towards her, and for a second she was distracted by the cologne he was wearing. She pointed to the last sentence on the page. 'Flesh, Blood and Bone; also known as a weak rebirthing spell only works in few cases where immortality has also been attempted,' she read.

Harry looked at her. 'Go on.' He said.

'And that's it.' She said, sighing. She flicked a torn piece which ran down the center of the book. 'Someone ripped it out. Someone went to great lengths to keep this spell a mystery.'

Harry frowned at the book and flicked through the corners of the book. 'Maybe it was Crouch's son.'

Ron shrugged. 'Maybe.'

Malfoy looked at the volume carefully. 'Can I have this?' he said. Hermione raised and lowered an eyebrow. She nodded.

The bell tolled for the start of lunch. Malfoy left abruptly, running a finger down the spine of the book. Hermione, Harry and Ron stayed a few moments longer and Harry leant forward confidentially. 'Look, here.' He said.

Hermione took the book: Animagus, a New Way! was the title. Hermione glanced from him to the book. 'I'm sure we can ask Professor McGonagall for help,' she said.

'I want to do this on my own.' He said. He looked from Ron to Hermione quickly. 'Will you?'

Hermione looked at him carefully and smiled suddenly.

'Cool!' said Ron, thumbing through the book.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

'Draco!'

Malfoy winced at the high pitched, shrill voice which followed him and would not go away - just like a bad odour. 'Sod off.' He muttered and retreated to the Head's Common Room where a sleek owl was standing patiently.

'Flint.' He said. Running the back of his hand down the silky feathered body, he took the envelope off his leg. Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out a biscuit and Flint pecked it up gratefully.

Malfoy watched him for a moment. He certainly never felt affection towards any person in this school. In fact, ever since the fantasy father he had made himself believe in proved false, he had little to love. His mother he did love, but scorned for being so weak.

He read the contents of the envelope swiftly and tore it up angrily. Tossing the pieces into the blazing fire, he heard sounds of laughter coming from outside.

One guess who it was.

Gritting his teeth, he sank into a chair and hated himself for the pang he felt in the pit of his stomach.

He didn't think it had anything to do with being hungry.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Hogsmeade trip. As seventh years, though some of the novelty had worn off, it was good to get out of worrying about NEWTs. Ron was with Lavender, both beet red as Hermione gleefully told Harry from their own table only to receive a death stare from Ron who heard their sniggers.

'Come on,' said Harry loudly. 'We'll leave the lovebirds to themselves.'

Needless to say, they exited swiftly.

Still laughing and feeling giddy, Hermione and Harry walked into a little lane.

'Poor Ronniekins, eh?' said Hermione sitting on a bench outside a musty bookshop.

Harry's laughter faded away and he pulled Hermione behind a crate quickly.

'Harry, what . . .'

'Shh.' He said, pressing a finger to her lips.

Hermione flushed a little and looked down. Harry was surprised by the impulsive caress and also leant down. Sure enough, footsteps approached them and they heard familiar voices.

'Serverus, please; you can't think. . .'

'It doesn't signify what I think, Minerva. Facts are facts.'

'He's only seventeen, a child.

Hermione felt Harry stiffen against her.

Snape breathed heavily. 'I know, I know.'

'We must tell Lupin. He's to spread word, you see?'

'And Hagrid will come back with the contract with the giants.'

'Serverus. I can't believe, I just . . .'

'History is repeating itself. We need to be prepared.'

'And Miss. Granger, Mr. Weasley? What about them?'

'Granger could be in more danger than you think, Minerva. He works with weakness.'

'Works with . . .'

'Newman has given a topic that would encourage the four of them to learn about Dark Arts. A brilliant idea, really. The four of them need protection and Granger could be inspired to research and formulate another spell, hex or potion.'

Professor McGonagall sounded like she was choking back a sob.

They passed by then, unaware that two teenagers by the names of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were staring at each other in utter shock.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Hermione was studying in the Common Room, feverishly turning page after decrepit page of a enormous and ambiguous volume. Her tired eyes scanned down pages and she started violently when she heard the portrait door open.

Harry, not noticing her, walked passed and flung himself onto an armchair. He was pasted in mud and sweaty damp hair was poking up in alarming angles. He fixed an intense green-eyed gaze onto the fire which was dancing in the hearth. His face radiated with anger, yet he was still pale-faced. His face was childlike, but not weak.

Hermione looked at him for a moment, then turned back to the book. She picked up her quill and began to copy down information. Harry's ears pricked up at the scratching of the quill and turned around.

'Sorry.' She whispered not sure what she was apologizing about, looking down at her ink stained fingers.

'What are you doing?' he said.

'Homework.' Said Hermione absently. 'How was Quidditch?'

'Might quit.'

'What . . .'

'I don't want to talk about it. . .' he trailed off. 'What homework?'

I'm trying to save your life, silly boy, thought Hermione. And everyone else's.

Harry was apparently interested by her absent answer and non-attention. He suspected something out of the norm and was right. These fighting spells were like gibberish to her and scarcely had Hermione struggled to enjoy a book, any book.

Harry saw just how obstinate Hermione could be and simply sat down beside her. She looked up at him once and smiled. Then she turned back to her work.

Harry swallowed. Her smile would light up her whole face. She didn't smile all the time, but when she did it reached up to her eyes. Heck, maybe her nose and forehead as well. Her smile was like Butterbeer, it kind of warmed him up on the inside. He shook his head. What the hell? What kind of sappy thoughts was he having about his best friend? Snap out of it, Potter, he advised himself.

Hermione sneaked another look at Harry and was amazed to see that he, at a rapid pace, was slowly turning very red.

Harry generally gave himself good advice, though seldom followed it.

A/N: Thanks heaps for all the reviews! Keep them coming, and I'll be posting within a fortnight or so. Love you all! : - )

~ Sassy