Prank or Threat

cakeandmilk

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 03/07/2010
Last Updated: 03/07/2010
Status: completed

I am pleading guilty for killing yet again another plot bunny. “A silly prank gone awry” was all she knew of it. But Harry knew better. How will Harry and Hermione deal with something that blatantly threatens their friendship and relationship?

Chapters

1. That Blasted Herbology Room

1. That Blasted Herbology Room

Prank or Threat

Disclaimer: I borrowed the idea (not the plot) from GivesMeHope, so that's not mine. The Harry Potter universe is obviously not mine, it's JK's. What else? Oh! Couteau Plante is mine. I invented that funky little plant. :)

Rating: PG

Summary: I am pleading guilty for killing yet again another plot bunny. “A silly prank gone awry” was all she knew of it. But Harry knew better. How will Harry and Hermione deal with something that blatantly threatens their friendship and relationship?

A/N: I am pleading guilty for killing yet again another plot bunny. How this story did come to be? I was browsing over my tumblr dashboard and I saw a post by one of the people I'm following. It was a touching story so I kind of borrowed the idea of it for this one-shot.

Enjoy!

Thanks to Dimethylmercury for beta-ing!

~*~*~*~*~

“Let me out!” Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs. “Pansy, this is not funny!”

A giggle was heard on the other side of the door, followed by a boisterous laughter that could only belong to none other than Crabbe and Goyle.

“Sure it is,” Draco Malfoy's voice drawled.

Hermione made to whip out her wand from her robes when she realized she could not find it. Looking around, all she saw were her bag and books. No wand in sight, she began to panic.

“Malfoy, let me out. I don't have my wand!”

She expected to hear the mocking voice of the pompous Slytherin, but instead, she heard nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Malfoy!”

Beginning to get extremely annoyed, she walked away from the door and took deep calming breaths. She looked up the wall and saw the spectacularly high glass windows of the greenhouse.

“Great.”

She looked helplessly around her surroundings and couldn't help but to freak out a bit. It was only her in a room full of magical plants—some dangerous, some harmless, and some absolutely lethal.

Since this was the greenhouse, it was not connected to the teacher's private office like any other classroom at Hogwarts. So the only door in sight was undeniably locked from inside-out.

The windows are of no use, that's for sure, she concluded when she saw their places at the very high wall of the greenhouse. Aside from that, they were all locked, and from the looks of it, they hadn't been opened in ages.

A rustling sound caught her attention. She whirled around and took an involuntary step back as the tables shook and then disappeared completely, leaving a wide rectangular berth in the center of the room.

“Could not get any better,” she muttered sarcastically.

She picked up her books and bag from where they lay on the floor and went to one side of the room, away from the plants labeled `Approach with Caution'.

Sitting down on the floor, she rested her head against the wall and looked up at the glass roof panels of the greenhouse. The sun was setting which meant most classes had ended and students were on their way to the Great Hall for dinner.

Thinking of dinner made her tummy grumble. Right, she was getting hungry.

“I wonder if Harry and Ron are already there,” she muttered.

“No, they could not be,” she said, “they have Quidditch practice up until later in the evening.”

She scoffed. “Then again, it is Ron.”

Her stomach rumbled again. She closed her eyes and winced as it grew more increasingly painful.

“Next time, Hermione, when you decide not to have lunch, at least pack something for later.” She remembered Harry's reproach. She wished she had listened.

Grabbing her bag, she checked inside and, as expected, saw nothing but books and parchment. She looked at the plants around her. They were all moving or at least squiggling. She could not possibly eat those.

She approached one pot of plants which were not moving and read the label. Instantly, she backed away. Nope, could not eat that. Definitely not.

She sighed.

“Might as well do something useful with my time,” she whispered muttered. “Merlin knows I need to get a head start on Herbology.”

She started roaming around, reading labels and descriptions. She `ooohed' and `aahed' at every unknown plant to her; poked and prodded every plant that interested her.

She forgot that when she was studying she forgets time flies.

When she was done with every plant inside the room, she looked up to realize that it was already very dark and the room was definitely a few degrees lower than she remembered. She looked upwards. The only light that had allowed her to proceed with her earlier wandering was the moon which shone spookily bright.

She started tearing up as the pain in her stomach grew worse. Deciding she had better do something, she approached the door and shook it with all her might. Of course, that wasn't saying much as Hermione was not the least bit athletic in build to cause any pressure on the door.

Although the locks jingled, that was it.

“Help!” she bellowed.

“Somebody, help! I am stuck in here!”

“As soon as I get out of here, I am studying wandless magic,” she proclaimed.

“Help! Help! I am stuck in the greenhouse! Help!”

Nothing. Only the plants rustled, and if she imagined it at the very least, the rustle turned into slithering.

Her breaths shortened and she ran around, shoving plants out of the way, looking for anything on the walls, the floor, crevices—anything that could get her out of there.

The room was completely sealed, protected.

In vain, she once again searched for her wand. Why wasn't it with her? Taking a moment to remember everything, she forced her body to remain calm.

When Herbology class had ended, she stayed for a while to finish off her notes. When she was done, she looked up to find that no one else was in the room except herself. As she began to pack her things and leave, she caught sight of the haughty and evil face of Pansy Parkinson at the door. Shrugging to herself, she heard Pansy giggle. She looked up at the Slytherin girl and saw that she was twirling a rusted key around her finger.

Before she had any time to react, Pansy shut the door, locked it with the key, and sealed it with a spell. Hermione knew counter-spell, but that was not useful at the moment when she did not have her wand with her.

Her wand? Her wand was always with her. No matter where. Even in her sleep, she kept it at a reaching distance. But where was it now?

While she was still writing down her notes, she pocketed her wand. That was it. That was the last she remembered of it.

She gasped.

Somebody brushed by her as the entire class was leaving. And that someone had brushed by her right pocket. Whoever that was must have taken it.

“Aaah!”

She doubled up in pain as her stomach made its protest known to her.

Sweat broke out of her forehead.

“Help! Please! Somebody!”

When the pain eased out, she approached the wall and tried clambering upwards to reach the impossibly high windows.

With a wrong turn, a slip of the foot and hand, she fell on her ankle, bouncing off the floor with a resounding crunch. She gasped and tears leaked from her eyes as she held her knees to her chest and cradled her wounded foot.

“No,” she whispered. “Please. Please! Help me!”

Another nightmare started when she heard sprinkling of water.

She searched for the source of the noise and found it at the other side of the room—the side nearest to her.

“Oh no.”

She felt the pain as she struggled to get up and get away from the now-running water.

Her mind raced. What happened? The plants were scheduled for watering late at the evening. The water was supposed to be sprinkled, not this outright gush of water from the wall.

The pipes must have been jammed or broken.

She continued to limp her way to where her things were when she felt the mind-numbing pain as a branch from a tree grasped her swollen ankle. She fell down. Too late for her hands to catch her fall, her head bounced, albeit not too heavily, against the cold and wet floor.

She moaned in pain as she fought the onslaught of pain and darkness consuming her.

“No,” she whispered again.

Weakened from everything, she tried standing up but felt the excruciating pain from her ankle which was still tightly grasped by the branch.

She sat up and, weakly, tried to untangle her foot from the persistent branch. It would not budge. If anything, it coiled around her foot more painfully than ever.

She felt the cool water reach her thighs and knew that in another half an hour, she would drown.

Thinking manically, she stopped pulling at the branch and it loosened infinitesimally. She followed the long body of the branch and saw the plant to which it was attached.

She almost lost it when she saw the base of the plant lapping merrily at the water that reached it. As long as the water reached that plant's mouth, it would not budge its hold on her foot. And from the looks of it, the water was not going to stop soon.

Truly panicking, she started shouting again. “Somebody! I am locked inside the greenhouse! Please! Help me! There is water everywhere and I might drown! Please! Harry! Ron! Anybody!”

She searched the pots around her for anything sharp. She found a Couteau Plante and grabbed it—only to regret when it sliced through her palm. The blood oozed down her hand and swirled along the water. She ignored the pain and, more carefully, picked the Couteau Plante and started slicing the branch keeping her stuck there.

The water reached her waist and still, she continued slicing, wincing with every effort. She had reached the thickness of the branch and the blade made contact with her skin. She was inches to completely slicing the branch off when the Couteau Plante leaf started withering into pieces.

It must have had too much water, or else it would not have done that, was her panicky thought.

She tossed aside the Couteau Plante leaf, but the branch around her started growing again. She needs fire for this. The water just kept on feeding it, strengthening it.

“This is not happening,” she gritted out.

“Help!”

The water was now reaching her chest and all her sloshing around had soaked her completely. She tried standing up but the branch only allowed her to get onto her knees.

“Somebody!”

She flung her hands in the air but only her right hand made it. She felt another vine coil itself around her other wrist, making it impossible to move.

She tried reaching Harry or Ron through her mind. She had never done this before and she was sure it was not going to work now, but her hopeful side ran over her rational side. However, her growing panic squished any possible magic to penetrate the walls of the room.

She was growing weak from pain. She leant against the wall, gathered the last bouts of energy before letting out one final desperate scream as her head pounded.

“Harry!”

~*~

“Reducto!”

The doors were flung into pieces as the curse hit it. It was also in that moment that Parvati, Padma, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Luna, Ernie, and possibly all houses (except from Slytherin) in their year stood rooted at the greenhouse door. The first thing that greeted Harry Potter was the water that immediately gushed past him and Ron and into the shoes of the dumbstruck audience.

Dreading the worst, Harry ran inside the greenhouse with Ron flanking his side. They would have run faster if it were not for the water soaking and weighing down their Quidditch robes heavily.

Ron was the first to spot the slithering branch as it coiled back to its plant as soon as the water level went down. But, Harry first spotted the struggling Hermione slumped against the wall, wet, bruised, and bleeding all over.

“Oh, Merlin, Hermione!”

He rushed at her side immediately. After Ron released her wrist from the thorny vine, Harry immediately picked her up, completely ignoring her feeble protests and, with Ron, strode out the room and into the Hospital Wing as fast as they could, completely unaware of the half-scared to death students when they saw the groaning semi-unconscious Hermione in Harry's arms.

~*~

Hermione woke up only to be greeted with silence. She caught sight of the familiar ceiling of Hogwarts castle. Sitting up, she looked around and realized she was in the Hospital Wing. And lying haphazardly on the cot next to hers was Harry Potter, dressed in his school robes, dozing quietly.

She could not help the small, tender smile that broke out on her face as she saw him. A rustle caught her attention and she looked to see Ron foraging through a table full of sweets. His quill and half-written essay, which Hermione was sure was due tomorrow, lay totally forgotten at the small makeshift table next to him.

Clearing her throat noisily, Ron jumped back from the table looking as guilty as ever, before rushing at her side. Harry Potter was instantly at her bedside, his eyes roaming her form to make sure everything was still alright.

“Hermione, you scared the hell out of me,” Ron said shakily.

“Are you feeling alright?” Harry asked.

“Not really,” she said. “My head hurts a lot and everything feels so stiff.”

“That is good,” Ron said and Hermione threw a glare at him.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Madam Pomfrey said that it is completely normal. It means the potions are taking effect.”

“Can we do anything to make you feel better?” Harry asked her tenderly.

“Water might help,” she said. Ron handed her a glass of water before giving her a hug. “You gave us quite a fright there, Hermione.”

“Yes,” she said after drinking, “I was scared witless, too.”

“What happened?” Harry asked as he sat down and cuddled her.

Looking carefully at her best friends, she hesitated when she saw the stern expression on their faces.

“Oh, wait,” she said as she closed her eyes and tried to remember everything. After a moment, it all went back to her.

“Pansy locked me in.” With that said her best friends' stern expression turned into one of pure hatred.

“I knew it! That pug-face Parkinson!” Ron exclaimed. “I bet Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were with her.”

“Figures,” Harry muttered darkly.

“I am sure it was just a silly prank gone awry,” she said.

She saw Ron and Harry exchange glances. “What did you find out? And what did you do about it?”

Ron adopted a very convincing innocent expression. “What makes you think we found something out?”

“Because the two of you are the most overbearingly protective and irrational boys I have ever met.”

“The spell that held the door was dark magic,” Harry started. “Did you hear them cast it?”

Hermione nodded. “I knew the counter-spell, but I did not have my wand with me.”

“You did not?” Ron asked. “Have your wand, you mean.”

Hermione looked at Ron. “I did not. I could not get out because I did not have my wand. Why?”

“They thought you broke the pipe which caused the greenhouse to flood. You know, in your attempt to get out.”

“If I had my wand with me, why would I break the pipes when I could just spell my way out?”

“That was what we said, Hermione,” Harry answered. “We found your wand outside the room. And well, Dumbledore checked it and it was the wand used to crush the pipes. It was a set-up, Hermione.”

“You are saying… someone wanted to…kill me?”

“Not quite,” Ron answered. “That was never the intention.” He looked at her sheepishly. “We kind of interrogated the Slytherins already.” Hermione just shook her head.

“The intention was to threaten or hurt badly. Enough for the message to be clear.”

The statement signaled a very sad silence to engulf the room for a long time.

“I will just…leave the two of you for a moment,” Ron said as he approached Hermione and kissed the top of her head. He passed by the sweets table, looked at Hermione for confirmation and upon receiving a nod, he grabbed a packet of Drooble's and walked out the room.

Hermione laid her head against Harry's chest and played with the hem of his vest as he twirled her hair around his fingers, his arms around her shoulders.

“Harry,” she started but he immediately cut her off.

“I cannot ignore what happened, Hermione.”

She sighed. “I know.”

“I can barely forgive myself for letting this happen to you. It is unfair to you, what I am doing.”

Hermione leant away from Harry and looked him straight in the eyes. “You are entitled to be selfish,” she whispered, her voice pleading.

“Am I?”

Hermione nodded. “For this. I am not asking you to be cruel, Harry, because you can never be cruel. I am asking you because, if anything, we cannot deny ourselves a chance to happiness—to grab any semblance of happiness before the war breaks out.”

She looked down at her lap. “At this point, it is up to you, really. I do not want to force you into something. Know that no matter what happens—and I mean no matter what happens—I will stay here, fighting beside you. Until the very end.” She looked up at him with a brave—albeit forced—smile, giving him all the encouragement he needed.

“Good, because I need you to stay with me when I am going to be doing this very often,” Harry said as he pulled her chin towards him and kissed her fully on the lips.

Instantly, she responded and threw her hands around him and he was pushed back on the bed with Hermione on top of him.

After a few more kisses with both of them smiling through each one, Hermione pulled away from a very reluctant Harry.

“Lest you want Madam Pomfrey to see us in such a position and have you banished from the Hospital Wing from the rest of your life, I suggest we continue this later.”

Harry agreed immediately, excited at the prospect of `later'.

Hermione lay beside Harry and sighed contentedly.

“Mister Potter!” sounded Madam Pomfrey's stern voice.

Upon Harry's panic, he fell off the bed and immediately stood up to defend him and Hermione. “We were not doing anything Madam Pomfrey, I just climbed in beside her, I swear!”

Madam Pomfrey gave him a reproachful look. She was about to give a very hearty rebuke when Professor Dumbledore interrupted them.

“That is quite alright, Poppy.” The Headmaster smiled at them, his eyes twinkling.

The castle nurse huffed and gave the two teenagers pointed looks before turning away.

“How are you feeling, Miss Granger?” Dumbledore asked, his eyes glancing mischievously at Harry, who in turn ducked his head down.

“I feel fine now, Headmaster. Thank you.”

“Good, good,” he nodded. “We must not have the brightest witch of Hogwarts feeling anything but fine with only a week before the NEWTS. Although, I do believe Miss Granger is more than prepared for them, would not you agree, Harry?”

“Oh, I do not think so, sir. There is still an unbelievable amount of work and a lot of catching up she has to do to be prepared for NEWTS,” Harry said with the most serious expression.

Dumbledore chuckled as Hermione glared pointedly at Harry's smirking expression.

“Oh, before I forgot.” Dumbledore pulled out from inside his robes a long wooden stick and handed it to Hermione. “I believe this belongs to you.”

Hermione accepted it gingerly but possessively, wondering whoever held it last.

“Who had it, sir?” It was Harry who asked her question.

“Draco Malfoy. Do not worry, everything has been dealt with. For now, you should bring Hermione to the Great Hall. Madame Pomfrey has discharged Miss Hermione already. The feast has just started and I do believe I saw Mister Weasley wandering outside the Hospital Wing. Oh, and your classmates are very worried about you. Best appease them,” Dumbledore said as the two students prepared to leave.

~*~

“The two of you alright?” Ron asked as he met his two best friends outside the Hospital Wing.

Harry clasped Hermione's hands in his own as an answer.

Ron grinned. “Thank Merlin. I thought it is going to be awkward.”

As the three of them walked towards the Great Hall, Ron declared. “You do realize your secret is not a secret anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“After Harry rescued you yesterday, everyone kind of figured everything out about the two of you.”

Hermione nodded. “Well, we can not keep it forever,” she said as she looked at Harry.

Harry merely nodded and kissed the back of her hand.

As they entered the Great Hall, all heads swiveled towards them for a moment before their stares traveled downwards to Harry and Hermione's clasped hands.

When the trio was finally seated, Hermione looked around and breathe a sigh of relief as most students resumed eating their meals. This is going to be easy, she thought.

But then Lavender ruined it when she plopped down beside Hermione and whispered conspiratorially, “You and I will have a long talk later.”

Hermione forced a smile as Harry looked at Lavender warily.

Hermione chanced a glance towards the Slytherin table and saw four very pale students at the far-end of their table. She wondered what Dumbledore meant when he said `everything has been dealt with.'

She felt Harry's hands envelop hers. When she turned to look at him, he, being the adorable and magnificent boyfriend and best friend that he was, gave her that breathtakingly-beautiful smile. And then she knew: everything will be alright. And she knew that Harry knew it, too.

~*~*~*~

A/N: As usual, please leave a review for dear c&m. :)

I know I promised you “The Portkey” but I wanted that to be the last fic I would post before I'd take a `leave' from PK fanfic writing. Yes, “The Portkey” will come next.

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