Chapter 27: Hogwarts Again
"Oi! Out of the way, you little squirts!" Ron shouted over the raucous of what had to be a group of rowdy second or third years, blocking the center lane down a carriage of the Hogwarts Express. Their unrestrained joy and frivolity at returning once again to their beloved Hogwarts, the mere pitch of their boisterousness might have seemed daunting to even McGonagall to attempt to wrangle, but as soon as they laid eyes upon the tall red head, a hushed murmur began to spread.
Hisses were called for those not paying attention to quiet down. Elbows were cast into the ribs of those not listening. "It's him... it's one of them... Ron Weasley..." echoed across the small mob until they all fell into line with undisguised awe. How they, one after the other, drew erect and stood at attention, as if miniature soldiers awaiting his orders, even Hermione would have been proud.
'Where is that brown headed witch?' Ron thought passively, distracted. "Huh..?" he guffawed, when he finally took in what had happened about him, genuinely surprised by how silent and still the carriage had grown - never mind the Prefect badge upon his chest. "You see that?" he turned back to wink at his trailing sister.
"Yeah, yeah, go on then. There is Luna and Seamus just ahead," she pushed him along, not wanting to allow his already bloated ego to become any more inflated than it surely already was.
"Oi! Luna, Seamus!" Ron called out, ignoring the countless young eyes following him with admiration.
"Ron! Ginny!" the aloof blond tured to hug each, welcoming the two to join them for the trip. "With the Marklarks out, it's probably best to stick to the cabins," she warned.
"Right..." Ron kept his eye rolling to a minimum as Seamus battled to stop himself from bursting out with laughter from behind her. They'd all become more than accustom to her oddities by now, and accepted her just the same.
"Hardly seems real," Seamus extended a hand towards Ron. "Glad you decided to come back."
Ron just shrugged, not eager to expound upon that certain matter. "Dean told me to save you two a seat," he hugged Ginny.
"Thanks," Ginny blushed a bit.
"Where's Neville?" Ron asked Luna.
"I imagine he is at the Prefects' Carriage, handing out instructions to the rest with Hermione, who is no doubt fuming about your absence," her words were light and airy, just as they always were, and the stricken look that fell across Ron's face with them was nothing short of comical.
"Shite!" he turned and scuttled off without another word said.
. . . .
The brief meeting was already adjourning, but it was the Head Boy, Neville Longbottom, not the Head Girl, as Ron had suspected, leading it. As all other twenty-one Prefects made their way out, back down to the other carriages, Ron found Hermione sitting quietly, studying a piece of parchment in her hand.
"Ron," Neville interrupted him. "Good to see you," his greeting was most genuine.
"You too, Neville. And congratulations on Head Boy!" Ron offered, though his eyes kept darting to the distracted brunette.
"Oh," Neville reddened, "you know, it's only because..." he grew antsy. "How is he? Have you seen him lately? I don't suppose he's coming back?" Neville finished his first sentence with a rambling, naming the unspoken name. Ron shook his head as he looked to the floor.
"Right," Neville said. "Not as if he needs anymore schooling..." he attempted an uneasy chuckle. "Well, I will see to my rounds then," he looked between the last two before parting. "It's good to have you two back." Ron offered only a nod.
"Find Merlin's lost scrolls?" Ron plopped down opposite Hermione as her eyes stayed glued to the parchment.
"My schedule," Hermione revealed. "Our new DADA professor.... Hans Krieg..." her look was curious. "I feel like I know the name, but I can't..."
"Ha!" Ron laughed with amusement. "Don't tell me..?!"
"What?!" Hermione finally looked up to him, protesting defensively.
"Hans Krieg... Krieg?!" he stated it as if it were obvious. Hermione could only stare blankly. "Well, this is good!" Ron gloated with glee.
"Oh, stop it!" Hermione chastised him. "Who is he?"
"Helmut Krieg... Rudolph Krieg..." Ron went on, and while the names rang some sort of bell, Hermione could not place them, shaking her head. "Hans Krieg's uncle, Helmut Krieg is only the current Supreme Mugwump. Rudolph, his grandfather, was only the one before Dumbledore. Hans himself was only the Chief Auror before becoming the Fuehrer of Germany awhile back, one of the most notorious family's of Europe, Hermione, really..." Ron seemed aghast at her lapse in this knowledge.
"Really yourself, Ronald!" Hermione was affronted, but angry with herself for having missed this more than anything. "Some of us did not grow up in wizard families!" she reminded him, none to politely.
"Ah, stop it!" Ron waved her off. "Just having a little fun with miss Know-it-all!" he teased, and Hermione visibly relaxed, not prepared to have a row with Ron right now.
"Well then, I guess we're fortunate to have him as a professor then," she was genuinely intrigued by the prospect.
"Yeah," Ron added. "Mum and dad could hardly believe it when they read about it."
"Guess I haven't been keeping that close a watch on the Prophet. If he's so famous, wonder how McGonagall got him to come?" she pondered aloud.
"What?" Ron asked with a smirk. "With the promise to teach the Golden Trio, of course!" It was a joke, but with the mention of the Trio, that was not so much a trio anymore, the mood sombered. "Come on," Ron said, "you're missing all your fun. Let's go bust some of those little runts for cutting up!" he stood and grabbed Hermione's hand, leading her out into the corridors.
. . . .
Three carriages along, it had been quite awkward for the both of them. This new celebrity was going to take some getting used to. They had both had to earnestly refuse no less than thirty-eight attempts at an autograph and twelve photos, before they came to the fourth carriage and were brought up short by a commotion ahead.
"Wait," Ron grabbed Hermione by the arm. A small group of what appeared to be fourth year Slytherins were picking on a small and lone first year, jostling him about by use of their wands. Two were pushing him back and forth up the aisle while the rest were having good fun hitting him with juvenile hexes. Bullies.
"Look," Ron motioned towards an approaching group of Gryffindors, the Slytherins same age.
"Hey! Whatcha there!" the lead boy cut in and caught the tumbling first year. "Everything okay?" he asked sincerely. The first year looked absolutely terrified and disheveled.
"Mind your own business, Creevey!" a dark haired boy squealed at the intrusion.
"I am, Magnus," he said cooly, before looking to the scared first year. "Say, what's your name, kid?"
"Duh-duh-Douglas..." he stuttered.
"Well, Douglas, my name is Dennis. Nice to meet you," he offered before turning back to the Slytherin with a harsh glare in his eye. "You see, Magnus. Me and Douglas here are friends. Promised my mum I would look after him his first year, so you see, it is my business."
Magnus and his Slytherin friends glared down the daring Gryffindor. "Beat it, Creevey!" Ron had to continue to hold back Hermione.
"Why don't you try picking on someone your own size for once, Magnus?" Dennis dared him, raising his wand. There was a long, tense pause as the Slytherin contemplated his options.
"You're not worth my time, you - you Potter wanna-be!" Magnus spat.
"Better than a slithering snake!" Dennis cut back. Eyes were narrowed for the pitch of a fight.
"Come on," Magnus fell back. Hermione felt the chilling tingle of a disillusionment charm trickle down her as she was pulled back into the seats, out of the way of the retreating fourth year Slytherins.
"What the..?!" she whisped under her breath.
"Not our fight," Ron was short. The two of the remaining Trio just sat there, watching Dennis and his crew recover the dizzied first year as his friends came to his aid.
"I feel so old..." Hermione lamented.
"Yup," Ron laughed.