"The distance between insanity and genius is measured only by success."
- Bruce Feirstein
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
The sun woke her again. It wasn't shining directly onto her eyes, but it was intrusive - it was the same, cold, dead light that flattened everything as she'd woken up to the day before, a white light that just seemed to be both bright and dull at the same time. But today was different. She yawned, rubbing her eyes as her mind adjusted to being awake once more, but there was no spike of fear this time, no rising sense of dread, of shame.
She simply smiled, and turned her head to the side. And he was there just like yesterday, on his front, his hair buffeted by his light exhalations. She felt an elation rise up inside her that she couldn't place having experienced before as she stroked his forearm lightly, relishing its weight on her stomach. Her fingers trailed just above his skin, occasionally brushing it and sending a slight thrill through her every time.
She realised then that she hadn't appreciated anything about him for the last two nights, despite what she thought. She hadn't truly realised that she was lying in bed with Harry, her best friend…and now, her lover? She couldn't help but smile again. Who would have thought it, plain Jane Hermione (or should that be plain Hermione Jane?) has a lover. Boring, prudish, bookish Hermione had found someone she loved so hard it ached, and who returned it in full. Her mind threw images at her languidly, pictures of all those accidental-on-purpose touches they'd shared over the last few years, those private looks with each other, their empathy communicating volumes about how they felt to each other but words failing them…
Although, she thought, somehow they'd always known it would be like this. It had been the two of them more than anything else. Ron was a dear friend to them both, their mutual best friend, their soul mate and brother. But what they had just seemed to always transcend that. They weren't soul mates; they weren't brother and sister…they were just…made for each other.
Okay, she thought, scrunching up her nose, let's never let anyone hear that Hermione. Ever. Cringe and move on.
Her smile stretched even further as he shifted, unconsciously pulling himself closer to her, tightening his arms around her waist as he laid his head half-on her shoulder, half-on her breast. Her hand came up seemingly of its own will, running through the hair on the back of his head with the same light touch that her other hand had caressed his arm with. She sighed happily, before gently bending her neck to touch her lips softly to his forehead, to the scar that had marked him since a child, but was now a symbol of his freedom. His victory.
She kissed his head again, trailing her lips slightly up his skin and flushing horribly as she remembered the first time she'd done that. Her flush gave way to something…else…though, as the full memory of that night came back. And, she thought with a sparing notice to the ache she still felt between her legs, last night.
She realised she'd been pressing light kisses continuously to his forehead when she faded back to reality then, her other hand having come round to frame his cheek. She grinned as his breathing pattern began to change, knowing that he was stirring back to consciousness even before his eyes began to open sluggishly, his mouth curving into a slight crescent as he murmured against the skin of her collarbone.
"You're here," She almost felt her heart break at the thought of how she'd run out on him yesterday, but still, the experience of having someone wake up and smile when they realised she was there (she was still shocked that she was in this situation) electrified her, made her senses feel like they were on fire. "S'time?" Harry asked sluggishly as he rolled off her slightly, onto his back as his hand came up to shield his eyes.
"Doesn't matter," Hermione whispered, moving to the side so she was half-on, half-off him. "It's Saturday. We've got all day to just…" She trailed off, as her hands ran through his fringe gently, slowly trailing down his face. "Do whatever we want, or nothing, if we want."
"Mmm," He murmured, shifting as he rubbed his eyes, their lids still shielding them as his mind adjusted to consciousness. "I like the second option." She smiled, before allowing her weight to fall back to the bed. She'd decided that she rather liked this position, both of them lying side-by-side, able to look at each other. Although, she thought with a grimace, morning breath issues were rapidly becoming apparent.
"I bet you do, Potter." She whispered, her hands still idly tracing patterns on any available skin she could find. "Have I told you that I love you this morning?" His eye cracked open slightly at her, the barest sliver of emerald shining through the gap as his lips turned upwards slightly.
"I could get used to that." He replied, before shifting his body to encompass her this time. She caught on fairly quickly and lifted her neck, allowing his arm to slide underneath and gently pull her towards him. She sighed slightly at the pleasant feeling of his warmth coursing into her, transmitting from their contact of flesh on flesh. "I love you too." He said softly, tipping her chin up lightly so that he could press a gentle kiss to her lips.
That, she could also get used to.
"I am hungry though."
"What a surprise."
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
They arrived at breakfast several hours later, thanking Merlin that it was the weekend and thus the population of the Great Hall was slightly thinner on the ground than normal. Making a beeline for the middle of the Gryffindor table, where they could already spy two shocks of bright red hair, Harry and Hermione finally let go of each other's hands as they sat down.
"Morning, Ron." Hermione greeted pleasantly, smiling at him as she reached over for a croissant. Ron narrowed his eyes, before looking at his other best friend.
"Is she friendly?" He asked, keeping one eye trained on her warily.
"Coast is clear." Harry replied, laughing as he reached for the plate of pastry as well.
"That's alright then, I was worried for a second that…oh, come on!" He started, then raised his voice halfway through as the two bumped hands on the plate, smiling at each other shyly afterwards. "It's weird enough that you two have this…whatever it is…between you without dramatics, please."
To her credit, Hermione simply rolled her eyes, before turning to her right, where a slightly embattled-looking Ginny sat hunched over the table, a cup of coffee clutched possessively between her hands.
"Hey, Gin." Hermione said brightly, her smile faltering as the girl turned to face her. Hermione noticed the dark rings under her eyes then, the worn look behind them that screamed of sleep deprivation and irritation. Yet, oddly, she didn't feel anything from her. No spike of annoyance, no flare of Weasley anger.
"Oh my goodness, Ginny, our link-" She started, but was almost immediately cut off by the younger woman's snarl.
"I know." She hissed. "I think it happened after the third time, when I was actually able to get some sleep."
Hermione coloured deeply.
"I can't know that…" Ron said faintly, his complexion taking on an odd pallor. "It's bad enough, seeing Harry naked…"
"When did you see Harry naked?" Hermione's head whipped around, her embarrassment momentarily forgotten as she looked between the two boys with narrowed eyes.
"He didn't see me naked…" Harry said placatingly, holding his hands out.
"I bloody well did." Ron replied in that half-indignant, half-sickened voice he'd had just now. "Bare as the day he was born, arse cheeks glinting in the morning sun…"
Harry let loose with what he hoped was a vicious kick under the table.
"OW! I'm just saying Hermione, if you're gonna do that with him, at least close the door next time."
"I can't believe I'm having this conversation." The girl replied, her voice just as faint as Ron's was not two seconds previous.
"Yeah, can we leave my arse out of breakfast discussions, please?" Harry asked indignantly, folding his arms over his chest before glaring at a third year that'd had the misfortune to eavesdrop. "What?" The boy in question hurriedly became interested in racing his egg and sausage around his plate, blushing an unhealthily deep vermilion. Harry glanced up at the Head table then, noticing for the first time that the two Unspeakables remained, seated on either side of Dumbledore as they ate.
Harry couldn't shake the impression that beneath their heavy, black cowls, they were looking directly at the Gryffindor table.
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
Pansy had known that the spell was running its course before it actually happened. She'd been feeling the drain, the pull of energy that linked her to it by signature had weakened considerably over the last few hours until finally, it had snapped. The severance had left her feeling oddly bereft, even though she felt the icy chill that had frozen her stomach and her chest lift gradually, as her emotions and feelings returned full swing to her. She missed that buffer of abnormality, that shroud of dark magic and emotion that had smothered her conscience.
She was unprepared to deal with the anger, the sheer rage that arose when she'd been seated at breakfast the next morning. Potter and his whore had entered, linked at the hand despite her best efforts to fracture their friendship, to ruin it and to spoil it at its core. The relations that she'd instigated, that she'd hoped would ruin what they had by the two of them crossing that Rubicon between them had only made them stronger. It had made them acknowledge their hidden feelings.
She'd failed to gain her revenge, failed to do anything but jeopardise herself. The blood traitor and Malfoy were still together; the mudblood and Potter were happily ensconced in each other's arms. With a noise of disgust, she threw her muffin onto the plate, casting a baleful look at the people around her before swinging her bag over her shoulder and stalking out of the hallway.
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
"Wow, who ruined her day already?" Ginny commented snarkily as her eyes followed the girl's emotional exit from the Great Hall.
"It's Parkinson." Ron replied between mouthfuls of sausage, bacon, egg, black pudding, baked bean and mushroom sandwich (what he liked to called his early morning `Big Beastie'). "The passage of time pisses her off, let alone anything specific."
"The girl does have anger issues." Harry agreed with a nod, his eyes also tracking the Slytherin before she disappeared out of the main doors. "What?" He asked as his eyes naturally flicked back to Hermione, whose brow was furrowed in what looked like heavy concentration. "Hermione?"
"Careful Harry," Ron said, motioning with Big Beastie and ignoring the various bits of debris that came sailing off of it. "She's got The Look."
"I don't have a `Look' Ronald." Hermione replied absently, still chewing on the end of her fork thoughtfully as her eyes remained fixed on where Parkinson had been not a few moments before.
"Sure you do." He mumbled. "It's that `I'm a Super Genius, And I'll Kill You With My Brain' look. The one that says `Do Not Disturb' in big flashing neon red lights above it. The…"
"Ron." Harry cut in, raising an eyebrow at his friend. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I don't even know anymore." He said, flashing a food-filled grin. "But it was fun." Harry held him with a troubled look for a few moments, before blinking and returning his gaze back to his…girlfriend, he supposed.
Hermione was his girlfriend. Heh, cool.
"Seriously, want to share with the class, Hermione?" He teased lightly, feeling for her fingers next to him and intertwining his own with them when he found her hand. The touch seemed to snap her out of whatever reverie held her in place, and she looked around at her friends as if coming out of a daze.
"No, nothing…" She said, before rolling her eyes at the impatient sighs the three other people in the conversation gave her. "Oh fine, it's just a theory, but I'll tell you all after breakfast. Needless to say," She looked directly at Ron then, grimacing at his lack of table decorum slightly before continuing. "It might require some spy work."
Ron's face lit up in anticipation. For some reason, he'd developed an unhealthy obsession with Harry's invisibility cloak ever since…well, ever since he'd found out that Malfoy was seeing Ginny, really.
"I can do that!" He volunteered.
"Yes, Ron." Hermione replied with a smile. "On the condition that you start to eat like a human being, and not like a combine harvester."
Harry chuckled and flashed her a grin, but Ron simply looked more confused than anything, leaning over to his sister before he whispered in a quizzical tone.
"What the hell's a combine harvester?"
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
"You're kidding." Ginny said flatly. It wasn't so much a question as a statement borne from incredulity. "Her?"
The four of them were sitting in the Heads Quarters, lounging on the sofas by the fireplace. While it was daylight, the sconces were still lit at a low ebb on the walls, infusing their surroundings with a rich, warm palette of colour that immediately made Hermione want to relax until she fell asleep, which would do nobody any good, least of all when she was trying to explain her theory behind what had been happening to them over the past few days.
"It makes sense, in a way." Ron said thoughtfully, his feet up on the table (to Hermione's extreme consternation) as he considered his friend's conclusions. "It could quite easily be Parkinson who put the curse on you."
"But why?" Ginny asked, struggling to understand the reasoning behind it. "I mean; I can get why she'd hate Harry, no offence." For his part, the boy merely shrugged. "He defeated Voldemort, and everyone knows that she was about as much on our side as Bellatrix Lestrange. But doing this? We could have died you know, and I've never really spoken to her outside of a few exchanges in the corridors years ago. Why me?"
Ron sighed, as if steeling himself for what he had to say. Ginny took it the wrong way, however, and slapped him across the bicep.
"OW!" He hissed, glaring at her. "What the hell was that for?"
"Don't treat me like an idiot!"
"I'm not treating you like an idiot!"
"Oh yes you…"
As they continued to bicker, Harry phased out slightly as he considered Hermione's logic. It was no secret that Parkinson resented the girl for consistently outdoing her in class, and Ginny…
"So she has something against Ginny because she thinks that she stole Malfoy from her?" He murmured to Hermione as a hand absently played with her lapel. She looked at it slightly irritably as he moved it away. "Sorry."
"That's my thinking." She replied, taking his hand in hers and running light movements over it with her fingers, smiling slightly as she glanced down at it despite the severity of the situation. The whole thing between her and Harry was still just so…new. It was so exciting, even to the point that she wondered if she were imagining things at times.
"But to do something so serious as that curse…I mean, she'd really have to have lost it…"
"It's not inconceivable." She replied softly. "All of us became soldiers last year, we survived because we have each other, because I have you…" She added, giving him that special, secret little half-smile she seemed to have reserved only for him now. "Some people weren't so lucky to have that though, they were left to deal with things on their own."
"You think Parkinson was an active Death Eater?" He stiffened slightly, and she moved to calm him immediately. Having a half-cocked Harry walking the halls would not be the best way to deal with this at present. To the pair's side, Ron and Ginny were still arguing furiously with one another, and Hermione was deeply relieved that she wasn't feeling anything but the slightest of touches from Ginny's volatile emotional range any more. This was one experience she'd rather not be party to, thank you very much.
"I don't think so, but just try to think about it from her perspective, Harry." She said soothingly, leaning her head against his shoulder as she watched both of the Weasley siblings' faces become redder and redder with every exchange. It was almost hypnotic, in a way. "This whole life that she's had, that she was raised for and never allowed to deviate from, it's all come crashing down around her. She doesn't have the network of old families anymore, because they're either dead, disgraced, in Azkaban or blood traitors, and in any case they're not nearly as effective or relevant as they once were…"
"Pardon me if I don't shed a tear." Harry grumbled. She rolled her eyes.
"And it's more than likely that she had been betrothed to Draco since she was a child. Now he's with Ginny, and she's all alone with no future, with nothing the way as it was before…I'm not condoning it, but it's possible to see how that might be enough to warp someone." She sighed as Ron and Ginny's argument began to cool down. "Bitterness can be destructive, as you know." Harry thought back to his fifth year, flashes of shouting at Hermione and Ron for no reason other than giving some release to his anger flashing through his mind as he did so. He knew better than anyone about the perils of becoming cynical and bitter. It wasn't just an emotion - it rapidly became a way of life, a barrier against the harsh reality of everyday existence. At first it was comforting, a buffeting force that kept the small things in life that brought you down away from you. But bitterness is an insidious thing, it feeds on the parts of you that are decent, and good, and kind. It twists you into something unrecognisable, until that one point where you look at yourself in the mirror and realise that you don't know the person looking back anymore.
Yeah, he could see it. As Hermione said, he was lucky that he had her and Ron at his side to drag him back (kicking and screaming if necessary) from the edge.
"I guess it is." He said softly. "I'm still going to kill her."
"Harry!" Hermione scolded, frowning at him.
"Alright, I won't kill her. Can I at least hex her into next Tuesday?" He sighed, fingering his wand lightly as it rested on the seat next to him.
"No, I've got a better plan." She said smugly, before looking at his wounded stare. "Oh fine, if plan A falls through, you can curse her."
"Plan A won't fall through." Harry replied in a glum way as Ron and Ginny finally stopped yelling at one another and sat as far away as possible on the tiny sofa.
"And why do you think that?" She asked, raising an eyebrow again as she sat up.
"Because it's one of your plans."
"Oh well, I suppose that means you'll have to get your testosterone under control then, doesn't it?" She turned to Ron then, leaving a slightly gobsmacked Harry in her wake. She couldn't resist a smirk and a wink at Ginny however, one that the redhead returned with more than a stifled giggle. "Ronald."
"Yes!" He replied. "Do I get to borrow Harry's Cloak now?"
"Oi, it might be good to ask me now and…"
"Yes, you do." Hermione cut in, giving Harry's knee a little rub to placate him in as much as she could right now, before carrying on. "Although, this is a little more dodgy than other times. I need you to go into the Slytherin Common Room." Ron paused for a second, his brain working all of the angles as she spoke. Despite his popular image, the boy wasn't stupid. His mind just wasn't as outwardly impressive as Hermione's - he thought more like Harry, considering cause, effect and unexpected factors that she wasn't so good at. She supposed it was why they worked so well as a team.
"Right…" He began slowly, sitting forward. "But can't you just go there, being Head Girl and Boy and all that jazz?"
"We could," She nodded. "But that would defeat the point of the mission. If we want Parkinson, we need evidence. Hard evidence, not just the idea that she may or may not have been an unmarked Death Eater, or that she comes from a bad family, or she's just a total…cow. Yes, I can dislike people as well," She glanced at Ron's open mouth. "Try not to have a heart attack."
"Okay, I get your point. And polyjuice is out of the equation because she doesn't really have many friends, and nobody who'd have cause to be in her room?"
"Correct. You'll need to follow someone into the common room, and wait until Pansy goes into her room, then slip in and take what you need to convict her of this." Ron frowned, the thought of being stuck in a woman's room for that length of time, let alone a Slytherin's, being the dullest of prospects that he could imagine.
"When do we want to do this?" He asked slightly apprehensively, glancing over at Ginny, who was locked in thought.
"It'll have to be today?" Harry guessed, speaking up suddenly. "The Unspeakables won't be here forever, particularly when they find out that the bond has been broken between you two." He motioned between Ginny and Hermione then, sitting forward as well. "In fact, your meeting with them can be the cover. If we can tail Parkinson, get what we need; then we can present the spell or the evidence to the Unspeakables while they're in with you. Gives you an alibi…" He glanced at Hermione then, before Ginny. "And it gives Ron some backup if he needs a quick extraction, I can just go in because of the badge and open some doors if I have to."
"You know, this is all well and good." Ginny said suddenly, her legs crossed and arms folded as she chipped in suddenly. "But shouldn't this be the kind of thing that we report, rather than deal with ourselves." She looked at Harry then more intently than the others. "It's not the war any more, guys. We're students, not commandos." They were quiet for a few moments then; each of them either considering the girl's words, or trying to formulate some kind of retort before Harry finally spoke up.
"The thing that the war taught me," he began slowly, as if choosing his words with a degree of exceptional care. "Is that when it comes to protecting what's yours, you rely on yourself and the people around you, you don't rely on the people in charge." He paused for a moment as Hermione cocked her head slightly to the right, watching him as he spoke. "When Umbridge and the Ministry decided that we wouldn't be able to protect ourselves or each other, we did it anyway. When the Death Eaters decided to take away what we loved, we fought back. All the way up until that final evening on that damn cliff…" He trailed off at the memory and Hermione slipped her hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze and smiling at him softly, urging him to continue. "All the way, we relied on each other, and that's something that I've learned I can do for the rest of my life. It's not about refusing to go to the people in charge, Gin. It's about trusting the people around you to get the job done."
Ginny just shrugged.
"Hey, you're preaching to the converted here. I just wanted to make sure that you weren't going crazy again. So Hermione, what time are we meeting Dumbledore?"
The other three just laughed.
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
"I want you to promise me that you won't run in there all wands blazing."
"Like I'd…"
"Honestly, Harry!"
"Oh alright, I promise." Harry sighed as he reached up to brush a lock of hair out of his girlfriend's, his best friend's, eyes, smiling at the way she leant into his touch slightly.
"I mean it, I don't like this whole thing." Hermione exhaled heavily, stepping into his hug as she leant her head on his shoulder. "If she can put that…horrible curse on Ginny and I, she can do anything. Just don't put yourself in harm's way, and look after Ron." She frowned as she glanced over at him playing around with Harry's Cloak, swinging it around various parts of his anatomy as Ginny laughed in response.
"He'll be fine, we'll be fine." Harry murmured in that deep, slow way he had of convincing someone that whatever he said was gospel, that it was absolutely right and that to think anything to the contrary was simply foolish. Hermione liked that, found it comforting. She had ever since…
"What?" He asked, pulling back slightly as she stifled a laugh.
"Nothing," She replied. "It's just…we faced the worst wizard in history, the darkest thing the world could possibly throw at us, and we still can't catch a break. Does that seem fair?"
"Seems more than fair to me." Harry shrugged, leaning in to lay a kiss on her forehead softly, gently before pulling back. "We've found each other haven't we? I mean, really found each other."
"We did," She replied, smiling back at him. "I'm kind of glad it happened this way, you know?"
"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Yeah," She raised hers in return mockingly, before grinning again and pulling him down onto the sofa with her, leaning against him and pushing him backwards into a relaxing position as she did so. "You know, fifth year was just…awful. That feeling Voldemort was back, that everything was changing. And Sirius…" She glanced at him then, but if he felt a twitch, he didn't betray it. "And then everything that happened sixth year…it's just…I was just so happy these past few weeks, you know? Everything had gone, we had this huge weight lifted off our shoulders and we were moving so much closer together."
"I know," Harry smiled, caressing her cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. "It was like we were moving together, but both of us were too afraid to just take that extra step."
"I suppose we should thank Pansy then." Hermione remarked not without a little bitterness.
"I don't think so, Ron had actually talked me into admitting it to you before we…you know…" He glanced away, blushing heavily at the memory of that first night.
"Really?" She asked softly, after a few moments' quiet. She found it hard to believe, but in the same way, she didn't want to think that he was saying it just because she was still feeling embarrassed and ashamed about that first night. Harry wasn't like that, was he?
"Yeah…" He said. "What, you don't believe me?" He raised an eyebrow, but before she could respond, he called out across the room. "Oi, Ron!"
"What?" He replied gruffly, putting down the cloak as he turned to him.
"What did you say when I told you I loved Hermione?" Harry asked, despite the girl's attempts to hush him. He grinned as he stared at her, whereas Ron just looked irritated.
"I told you to stop being such a girl and tell her. OW!" He exclaimed as Ginny gave him a sound punch to the arm. "Will you women stop bloody hitting me? Please?"
"See?" Harry said triumphantly, looking at her with a huge smile plastered across his face, before he sobered slightly. "Whether or not Parkinson's curse affected you that night, the fact of the matter is that I would have told you anyway. With Voldemort gone, the only thing that was holding me back was this fear that you'd say you didn't feel the same way. I mean; I kind of knew you did on some level, but…"
"…when you're in it, it's hard to see the wood for the trees?" Hermione offered, finishing his sentence once again as she had for so many years of their friendship now.
"Exactly," He replied softly with a smile, just looking into her eyes for several long, drawn out moments. The two were content to simply communicate like that for now, their emotions clear enough to themselves and anyone who happened to be looking at the time.
"Well, this is just sickening." Ron said suddenly, his voice much closer than it had been as the two blinked before turning to where he was now standing not a metre away. "Are we going to do this, or just fuck about?"
-=-=-=-*-=-=-=-
It turns out that Ron didn't have to wait particularly long for Pansy to make her way back to the dungeons. Despite his significant protestations, he'd agreed to miss dinner in aid of the mission, particularly since Hermione and Ginny would be meeting with Dumbledore and the Unspeakables through the time period. If they were going to utilise their contacts that they had right now, it would have to be sooner rather than later. Ron watched as the Slytherin finished her lunch in silence and packed up the book that she'd been reading, moving away in a far more subdued manner than she had been yesterday. The boy actually thought that she looked a little ill - her hair was falling just this side of lank around her face, while her features seemed pale and drawn. Despite her appearance however, and the fact that she appeared to have lost more than a little weight recently, she still gave off an aura of power and confidence, a projection of self that caused many to look down into their food as she passed them. Ron set off in pursuit of her as she moved beyond him by the main doors, slipping through quickly before they could shut as he followed her outside and over the viaduct, taking care to avoid rustling or arousing the suspicions of the gargoyles along the way. She pushed back into the main building and once more he followed, bobbing and weaving his way around the various students that were milling about this area, mostly Hufflepuff or Slytherin (the latter being dominant even then).
For the umpteenth time he went over the details of what he was doing, what he was looking for, and found his fingers drifting unconsciously to the pebble in his pocket. If he was in trouble, all he had to do was squeeze the rock lightly, and Harry would be alerted that the jig was up and he needed a quick exit. Despite the war being over (or perhaps because of it), Slytherin's common room was still considered hostile territory for a wayward Gryffindor such as himself.
However, Harry's location and the plan was not his immediate concern. He knew that his best friend was somewhere close by (as he always was in situations such as this), and the increasing crowds of people were making it more and more difficult to follow the Parkinson girl without risking accidentally jostling someone and revealing where he was. While a few people may assume it innocuous, he had a feeling that she was paranoid enough not to.
Due to more than a little creative ingenuity and some subtly cast misdirection charms however, he eventually made it to the portrait door, slipping through as she gave the password (as well as noting it down - if Fred and George ever got back on their feet, that kind of information would be priceless to the right people). There was a brief darkened corridor before they stepped into the Slytherin common room proper, renovated since the last time he was here over five years ago.
What struck him immediately was just how…green it was. Everything had an element of the colour apart from a few basic things. Tablecloths were green, clothes were green, sofas and chairs were…there was even a dim ambient light that suffused everything with its mossy glow.
`No wonder this house breeds evil…' Ron thought to himself as he followed Parkinson even further into it. `Looks like the bloody Myra Hindley suite in here'.
The prefect quarters (Parkinson apparently eschewed the company of other students, unsurprisingly) were shortly in front of the boys and girls dormitory staircases. The girl opened her door with a flick of the wand, and Ron had to hurry through quickly before she sealed it again with an equally casual display of magic. Setting her bag down on the lonely table in the middle of what was an utter pit of a room, she exhaled as Ron surveyed his surroundings.
Books covered the floor. And he meant literally, not even Hermione-bad. There were a scant few centimetres of the rug visible here and there, but for the most part, this looked more like a journalist's desk than a place of rest. Glancing down at his feet, he nudged what looked to be like a rat's skull with his foot, choking down the impulse to cry out as he did so.
In fact, he was so distracted by the remains of the rodent, that he didn't notice Parkinson point her wand at him.
"Petrificus Totalus. Incarcerous. Folia Dementia." She calmly rattled off three spells in quick succession, first binding Ron stock still, then with ropes, and then finally with some form of poison ivy. It was over before he even knew it, unable to move as she stood standing there in front of him as she reached towards where the Cloak hung off his face.
"Silencio." She cast at the door, sealing them well and truly in. "Mr. Weasley, I presume?"
Author's Note:
Hello all, been quite a while.
Firstly, I just want to say thank you to Tank03 for continually reminding me that yes, I do need to finish this story. Secondly also to Beth Brown for her amazingly kind comments - if you haven't checked out her stories, go do it now. Seriously, why are you still reading? Good see what quality really is.
You'll be pleased to know that the endgame is in sight now, another couple of chapters are left in Ties, one of which has been written (but will possibly have to be rewritten this week). I aim to finish this story at a far more regular pace, ideally by March.
If you're followed this story from the beginning, thanks for your continuing support. If you've just started, I hope you enjoy!
- Castledown.
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