Latrunculus--Part 13

Hermione sat at the table, staring at the piece of parchment in her hand. She had been reading it for half an hour. However, she had comprehended none of the words.

Her thoughts kept drifting back to the day before. The anxiety from appearing before the Wizengamot still lingered. The pain of confronting Malfoy was still fresh. She kept reliving it again and again in her head.

But part she dwelled most on was her encounter with Ron. She still could feel his hand on her chin. The darkening of his eyes had sped up her pulse. She had been so sure that he was going to kiss her.

For years, she had waited for Ron to become aware of this thing between them. Each time she thought that he would finally get it, he’d go and make things worse. They would have stopped being friends sixth year if it wasn’t for Harry.

And when the moment she had waited for so long for to arrive did, she had run away.

‘Some Gryffindor,’ she thought bitterly.

Once again, her brain had gotten in the way. As Ron had leaned toward her, a myriad of thought had raced through her mind. Was he finally kissing her? How would it change things between them? Was he only doing it because he had felt sorry for her?

That last thought had stopped her cold.

It was possible. Ron was gallant among other things. It may have occurred to him to do it if would make her feel better.

She wasn’t going to let Ronald Weasley kiss her out of sympathy.

Thinking about yesterday wasn’t going to change anything. With a frustrated sigh, she turned her attention yet again to the parchment. She needed to get some work done.

“Is that an owl?”

The question sliced through the silence of the library. Like the others, Hermione looked up at the window. A snowy barn owl was flying outside. It seemed to look straight at her.

“It looks like it’s holding an envelope.”

Hermione jumped up from her chair. She had to get the owl leave. It was drawing too much attention.

“Miss Granger?” The student nervously shifted the books in his arms. “I was wondering if I could run an idea by you.”

“I’ll be right back,” she assured the student. She hurried from the library. She ignored the looks she was getting as she flew down the stairs.

She was not outside long before the owl swooped down to her. The envelope was addressed to her. Ron’s scrawl made her heart skip a beat. As the owl flew away, she shoved the letter into her coat and went back inside.

Hermione was surprised to find the boy still waiting at the table. She thought he would have shuffled on. She sat back down, moving her study materials aside.

Her job at the university was mainly as a researcher with her area of specialization being the occult practices of Western Europe. She was also serving as a mentor to a few selected students in the history and sociology departments. Professor McGonagall had told her that it may help her gain a permanent position at the university.

“What is your idea that you wanted to talk about, Alan?”

The boy nervously shifted his books again. “How much do you know about Medieval Bulgaria?”

She listened attentively as he outlined the idea for his next paper. His idea was intriguing. She found herself getting excited with him as he showed her his various sources.

She made a few suggestions and pointed out a few flaws in his logic. He thanked Hermione profusely as they finished. She told that she was glad to help.

And she was. Besides the joy from helping him, their session kept her mind off Ron’s letter. But she couldn’t put off much longer.

She returned her research material and cleaned off her table. She gathered her belongings. Waving at a guard, she left the library.

The letter was a heavy weight in her coat as she made the trek to her flat. She tried to think of other things but they inevitably returned to it. What was in the letter? What did he have to say?

Did she want to know what he had to say?

Yes, she finally realized.

Crookshanks greeted her at the door. He immediately trotted over to his food dish. His “yowl” indicated that he was unhappy about its empty state.

“Okay, Crooks,” she sighed, “give me a minute.”

She set her stuff on a table before heading into the kitchen. She put the kettle on. Then she grabbed a can of tuna for Crookshanks. The cat watched her every move, his tongue licking in anticipation.

“You can’t be that hungry,” she scolded.

The cat seemed to glare at her. Shaking her head, Hermione emptied the tuna into the food dish. She was quickly forgotten as Crookshanks settled into his dinner.

She made a cup of tea and took Ron’s letter into the lounge. After a fortifying sip of tea, she opened the letter. She wasn’t surprised that it was brief. Ron was never one for many words.

“Hermione, Malfoy’s trial is expected to end in three days. Will you be there for the verdict? The Aurors will provide you protection if needed. Ron”

Protection? She read the letter again and again. What danger could she face now? Hadn’t Malfoy done enough to her?

She tossed the letter unto the table. Of course, she would be there for the verdict. She wanted nothing more than to see him sent to Azkaban again for his crimes.

But could she face Ron?

She didn’t know.


Part X!II Hermione sat at the table, staring at the piece of parchment in her hand. She had been reading it for half an hour. However, she had comprehended none of the words. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the day before. The anxiety from appearing before the Wizengamot still lingered. The pain of confronting Malfoy was still fresh. She kept reliving it again and again in her head. But part she dwelled most on was her encounter with Ron. She still could feel his hand on her chin. The darkening of his eyes had sped up her pulse. She had been so sure that he was going to kiss her. For years, she had waited for Ron to become aware of this thing between them. Each time she thought that he would finally get it, he’d go and make things worse. They would have stopped being friends sixth year if it wasn’t for Harry. And when the moment she had waited for so long for to arrive did, she had run away. ‘Some Gryffindor,’ she thought bitterly. Once again, her brain had gotten in the way. As Ron had leaned toward her, a myriad of thought had raced through her mind. Was he finally kissing her? How would it change things between them? Was he only doing it because he had felt sorry for her? That last thought had stopped her cold. It was possible. Ron was gallant among other things. It may have occurred to him to do it if would make her feel better. She wasn’t going to let Ronald Weasley kiss her out of sympathy. Thinking about yesterday wasn’t going to change anything. With a frustrated sigh, she turned her attention yet again to the parchment. She needed to get some work done. “Is that an owl?” The question sliced through the silence of the library. Like the others, Hermione looked up at the window. A snowy barn owl was flying outside. It seemed to look straight at her. “It looks like it’s holding an envelope.” Hermione jumped up from her chair. She had to get the owl leave. It was drawing too much attention. “Miss Granger?” The student nervously shifted the books in his arms. “I was wondering if I could run an idea by you.” “I’ll be right back,” she assured the student. She hurried from the library. She ignored the looks she was getting as she flew down the stairs. She was not outside long before the owl swooped down to her. The envelope was addressed to her. Ron’s scrawl made her heart skip a beat. As the owl flew away, she shoved the letter into her coat and went back inside. Hermione was surprised to find the boy still waiting at the table. She thought he would have shuffled on. She sat back down, moving her study materials aside. Her job at the university was mainly as a researcher with her area of specialization being the occult practices of Western Europe. She was also serving as a mentor to a few selected students in the history and sociology departments. Professor McGonagall had told her that it may help her gain a permanent position at the university. “What is your idea that you wanted to talk about, Alan?” The boy nervously shifted his books again. “How much do you know about Medieval Bulgaria?” She listened attentively as he outlined the idea for his next paper. His idea was intriguing. She found herself getting excited with him as he showed her his various sources. She made a few suggestions and pointed out a few flaws in his logic. He thanked Hermione profusely as they finished. She told that she was glad to help. And she was. Besides the joy from helping him, their session kept her mind off Ron’s letter. But she couldn’t put off much longer. She returned her research material and cleaned off her table. She gathered her belongings. Waving at a guard, she left the library. The letter was a heavy weight in her coat as she made the trek to her flat. She tried to think of other things but they inevitably returned to it. What was in the letter? What did he have to say? Did she want to know what he had to say? Yes, she finally realized. Crookshanks greeted her at the door. He immediately trotted over to his food dish. His “yowl” indicated that he was unhappy about its empty state. “Okay, Crooks,” she sighed, “give me a minute.” She set her stuff on a table before heading into the kitchen. She put the kettle on. Then she grabbed a can of tuna for Crookshanks. The cat watched her every move, his tongue licking in anticipation. “You can’t be that hungry,” she scolded. The cat seemed to glare at her. Shaking her head, Hermione emptied the tuna into the food dish. She was quickly forgotten as Crookshanks settled into his dinner. She made a cup of tea and took Ron’s letter into the lounge. After a fortifying sip of tea, she opened the letter. She wasn’t surprised that it was brief. Ron was never one for many words. “Hermione, Malfoy’s trial is expected to end in three days. Will you be there for the verdict? The Aurors will provide you protection if needed. Ron” Protection? She read the letter again and again. What danger could she face now? Hadn’t Malfoy done enough to her? She tossed the letter unto the table. Of course, she would be there for the verdict. She wanted nothing more than to see him sent to Azkaban again for his crimes. But could she face Ron? She didn’t know.


Part XIV Back