A/N: Wow, so this is how it feels to be a PK author… Kool… This here be my debut fic. I hope you like it. A billion thankyous to my marvellous beta, Julie!
Disclaimer: the usual legal banter applies, all Harry Potter trademarks and indicia do not belong to me, if they did, I'd be splurging away on clothes and kicks like, everyday!
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Friday
"Drosophila melanogaster"
The portrait swung off the wall and granted him entrance into the Heads' common room.
Whoever the hell thought up that password ought to hang by his thumbs in the dungeons... Wait, I can't play without my thumbs...
It had been a long, tiring day. The match against Ravenclaw was coming up and daily four-hour training sessions were mandatory. He didn't want to ruin Gryffindor's so far spotless record.
The fire was blazing, and the room was empty. At least it seemed to be, until he heard something fall on the stone floor. He looked around and found that it was a roll of parchment filled to the edges with neat, slanting handwriting. He glanced up to find a head of bushy brown hair resting on a table cluttered with huge, thick books and more parchment. He sighed and shook his head. Hermione had once again spent the entire day studying like mad. He had bent over to pick up the parchment on the floor when she stirred.
"Hey Harry," she said groggily as she rubbed the sleep off her eyes.
"Hermione, you're killing yourself."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"N.E.W.T.s aren't for 2 months and 2 weeks."
She gasped, suddenly wide awake. "Oh dear, I really need to catch up. And why aren't you studying?" Hermione quickly sorted through the chaos in front of her. "Merlin, where is it?"
"Where is what?"
"That Transfiguration essay I was working on." She didn't even look up. "I know I put here somewhere." Harry took a look at the roll of parchment he was holding.
"This it?" He held it out in front of her.
"Yes!" She snatched the parchment from Harry. He watched her as she unrolled and scanned it intently. Her brow was furrowed and she was chewing on her lip. He noticed that she had horrid dark circles under her once beautiful brown eyes, her skin seemed to be getting pale, and it looked like she had lost weight. Harry hesitated to distract her, but she was abusing herself and he had to stop her.
"Hermione?"
"Hm?" She laid the essay on the table, pulled her quill out from under another pile of parchment and began scribbling furiously.
"Have you been sleeping enough lately?"
"Actually, I've been sleeping more than I should; I'm a bit behind schedule as it is."
"I don't believe this," Harry muttered to himself.
"What?"
"I don't believe this," he repeated, loud enough for her to hear. Hermione raised an eyebrow and turned to face him.
"Really, Harry, after seven and a half years I honestly thought you'd gotten used to this."
"This? Hermione, you don't even come out of the room anymore! Do you even remember what the sun's color is?"
"Blue?"
"Nope, guess again."
"Silver?"
"No, sorry, it's hot pink," said Harry, sarcasm completely enveloping each syllable. Hermione heaved a great sigh.
"Harry, what's this about?"
"What's this about?" He looked at her as if she'd gone completely insane. "What's this-- you seem to have forgotten to even eat Hermione! I mean look at you, you're, you're--"
"Drop dead gorgeous?" She had a huge smile on her face, and started batting her eyelashes.
"Well, the drop dead part may happen very soon if you don't stop starving yourself, and stop doing that, it's rather unbecoming." He smiled.
She laughed. "I'm sorry to be disappointing you, but you see, I just happen to value my education more than some people." She tilted her head in the direction of the couch in front of the fire, from which a most horrifying snore emanated, making Harry start. Ron had apparently followed Harry up to the Heads' dorm after training. "Yep, a lot more." Hermione turned back to her Transfiguration essay.
Harry recovered from his shock. How come I didn't see him there? He was annoyed to see Hermione had returned to her work. He put a hand on the parchment she was examining.
"Excuse me, Harry." She picked his hand up with two fingers and moved it aside. "Thank you." But before she could continue writing, the hand was back. This time, when Hermione tried to move it, it didn't budge, so she stabbed at it with her quill.
"Ow! Hey!"
"Shoo!" She was glaring at him now. That didn't work. He grabbed the parchment and held it above his head.
"HARRY!"
"Dinner's ready in..." he checked his watch, "fifteen minutes. If you want this back, you'll have to come down to dinner."
"Honestly, Harry, is there no one else you can annoy right now?" She was clearly exasperated.
He looked around the room; Ron was still snoring on the couch. "Nope, not really." He smiled. She didn't. "So, are you coming to dinner or not?"
Hermione sighed. "Fine, but you had better give it back the moment we're done."
Harry grinned.
I hate it when he does that, Hermione thought.
"Great! I'll go upstairs and change. You had better be here when I get back." He dashed up to his room, leaving Hermione annoyed... and thinking... What the hell is wrong with him? Probably sugar high, people are annoying when they're sugar high.
She stood up and stretched, then walked over to the couch and gently shook Ron. "Dinner in ten minutes, Ron." He turned over and muttered something, then resumed snoring. Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Hopeless."
**
Harry set his Firebolt in a corner, and Hermione's essay down on his bed. He then proceeded to remove his practice robes, make a quick trip to the bathroom to clean up, and pulled on the first t-shirt and pair of jeans he could find. He retrieved the parchment from his bed and headed for the stairs when a thought occurred to him. And then a strange smile made its way across his face.
"Repudiate!"
**
Harry seemed weirdly happy as he descended from his room. He saw Hermione leaning against the couch with her arms crossed, looking impatient. Ron... well...
"Will Ron be coming with us?"
"I don't think he'll be going anywhere." There was a snort, followed by a snore. Harry chuckled lightly; disgust was written all over Hermione's face.
"Honestly, RON and MANNERS don't fit into the same sentence," declared Hermione. Harry sniggered.
"Well come on then, wouldn't want to be late."
They stepped through the portrait hole and proceeded to the Great Hall.
**
"Drosophila melanogaster."
"Honestly Harry, couldn't you have thought of a better password than that?"
"Nope," he said with a smile.
Harry had shrunk Hermione's essay to fit into the back pocket of his jeans. Once Hermione was seated at her desk, he restored it to its original size and handed it over. She immediately dunked her quill into a bottle of ink and began scribbling.
"Harry, what have you done to my homework?" Hermione demanded five seconds later.
"Nothing, I just shrunk it." Ok, maybe I didn't just shrink it.
"Are you sure that's all you did?" she said, raising a very suspicious eyebrow.
"That's all I did."
"Then. Why. Can't. I. Write. Anything. On. It!" Hermione said through gritted teeth as she scratched her quill furiously on the parchment in question. Harry just shrugged.
"Finite incantatem... Finite incantatem!... Hrrgh!" She tossed her wand onto the table and unceremoniously rolled her Transfiguration essay up. She put it away, and pulled out her Arithmancy book. She flipped the book open and started reading.
Leaning on the couch which miraculously still contained a snoring Ron, Harry watched Hermione carefully and saw that her eyes were starting to droop.
"I think it's time you went to bed," Harry said softly.
Hermione's eyes flew open in an unconvincing attempt to show Harry that she wasn't dozing off. "I'm not sleepy--" she said, just as a big yawn gave her away.
"Yeah, right," Harry replied. "Come on." He crossed the floor and took the book away. "You're exhausted; you need to get some decent sleep tonight."
"I guess you're right --" Hermione said with another yawn as Harry helped her out of her seat and upstairs to her room.
They didn't notice that the snoring had stopped.
As Harry led Hermione to her room, the 'sleeping' Captain witnessed everything, peeking through one half-open eye. Ron smiled to himself as they disappeared through the staircase.
At the door to the Head Girl's room, Harry turned to face Hermione. "You work too much, you know that?"
She smiled weakly. "I have to."
"You don't. Now go to bed and I want you to sleep, not nap, ok?"
"Ok," she said, nodding, her eyes half closed. "Good night, Harry."
He smiled warmly and kissed the top of her head. "Good night." Harry descended the stairs, remembering that someone should be in Gryffindor tower by now.
As Harry approached, Ron tightly shut his eyes and feigned sleep, (complete with scandalous snores). Harry gently shook him 'awake'. With a fake yawn and a really unnecessary show of stretching, Ron sat up and smiled at his best friend.
"You missed dinner, mate," said Harry.
"I did? Bugger. What did you have?"
"Oh, nothing special, just some steak and kidney pie, bit of treacle tart..."
"Why do I miss all the good stuff?"
"Ask Dobby to send some stuff up for you," Harry suggested.
"Right..."
"Harry?" A soft voice came from the top of the stairs.
"Yeah?" Harry and Ron turned to see Hermione, still in her uniform, looking troubled.
"I forgot. We have patrols to do."
"I got it, don't worry," he said with a smile. "Besides," Harry offered as he jerked a thumb in the redhead's direction, "Ron can cover for you." Ron gave her a reassuring smile as well.
"Well... ok... thanks." With that, she trudged back into her room.
Harry and Ron patrolled all seven floors discussing Quidditch tactics and how Hermione should get more Vitamin D in her system, occasionally coming across a few fifth and sixth years still wandering the halls. When the corridors were cleared, Ron and Harry said their good nights and split up at the Fat Lady. Back in the Heads' dorm, the fire had nearly burned out, leaving the common room lit by a dim orange light. Harry rifled through the rolls of parchment in search of Hermione's Transfiguration essay. Once he found it, he unfurled the parchment and muttered Finite Incantatem under his breath. With a pleased-with-himself smirk, Harry climbed the stairs to his bedroom.
Earlier that year, Flitwick had taught them how to create charms that only the caster could remove.
a/n: repudiate. According to Merriam Webster, it means to cast off, refuse, reject