Hogwarts Love Story pt 25

Sorry for the long wait! I've been pretty busy. Anyway, here's part 25. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to offer some constructive critism, and enjoy the quiz!

Will you get the Hogwarts guy of your dreams? Find out in this adaptation of the world of Harry Potter during years 3-7, and see who you date. Who will you fall for?

Created by: vulturemonem
  1. Hey there guys! Long time no see! *smiles sheepishly* Sorry I haven't posted for an age. I break up on the 12th, but I'm away on a camp for a few days. Then it's the summer! Woot woot! @liz_king97 Yes. I am a Whovian! I'm glad that Doctor Who reference didn't escape your notice! I might make that a re-occurring theme! Then again, perhaps not. I'll shut up now, and let you guys read.
  2. As Ron opened his Hogwarts letter, his jaw fell open, and he spluttered on his toast. Remus thumped him hard on the back as he choked, and I peered over his shoulder at the letter he hel in his shaking fingers. I raised my eyebrows in surprise as I scanned through it. I turned my gaze to the badge pinned to the bottoms right-hand corner, by Professor McGonnagle's signature. There'd be plenty of time for he and Hermione to get cozy then. "Well done Ron," I said, smiling warmly. He blushed. "What happened?" Mrs. Weasley asked, a little worriedly. "Your son is a prefect," I said. Hermione smiled across at him, and the table broke out into congratulations. "Go congratulate Hermione," Ron mumbled. Immediately, the table turned on the bushy-haired girl, demanding to know why she hadn't told them before. The only person, except myself who, had already congratulated the two Griffendor prefects this year, who wasn't joing in the celebrations was Harry. I gave him a long, hard look, but he didn't meet my gaze as he stabbed his fork into his bacon. He was obviously thinking hard, and he wasn't happy. If I were being honest, I wouldn't have been happy either. There were several times in his Hogwarts career that he had proven himself wiser, more gifted, and braver than Ron, yet the position had been given to Ron. Perhaps, as Cedric had suggested, Dumbledore had believed he had enough on his plate already. I decided to talk to him after he'd cooled off a bit.
  3. As per usual, the second my thoughts wandered anywhere near the subject of my boyfriend, I got that stupid, goofy grin on my face. I moved my eyes over to him, and totally busted him staring at me. He shot me a cocky grin, and I rolled my eyes at his antics. "How can you get into trouble when you're a prefect?" Fred asked, only to be scolded by Mrs. Weasley. Sirius laughed a little, but I knew that he too had noticed Harry's reaction to the news of Ron and Hermione's successes. If I were honest, I thought he was being a little selfish, but then again, he did deserve the title more than Ron did. It was a fine line to walk. I turned to my cup, and lifted it to my lips, taking a large swig. I gagged, hoping that it had escaped the notice of Mrs. Weasley. For once, luck was on my side - she was still making a fuss of her son and Hermione. Cedric was smirking at me from his seat across the table. I glared at him, taking in his own untouched cup of coffee. It certainly wasn't Mrs. Weasley's strong point. I glanced across at Ron, who had a steaming mug of tea next to him, and I switched the cups. "Crafty," murmured a voice in my ear. Blushing slightly, I turned round to see Fred. "Was the slime of any use?" I asked quietly, not wanting Mrs. Weasley to put a stop to the twins' plans before they'd really begun. "Oh yes," he said, chuckling darkly, "It was a great help." I was going to reply, expressing my doubt that anything so revolting could be of any use to anyone, when Mrs. Weasley told me I had to clean up, as I'd missed dinner the previous night. I groaned, knowing that Mrs. Weasley had banned us from using our wands. It was a revelation to be allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts, and as it was a Grimmauld Place special, you'd think she encourage us. Oh no. We were submitted to the painfully slow muggle ways of everything. It was pure torture. "Will you be coming with us to Diagon Alley?" Mr. Weasley asked me and I grabbed plates off of the table and shoved them into a sink full of bubbling water. The Blacks clearly hadn't heard of a dish-washer. "No, I've been already. Got there before the rush," I said with a wry grin. It was well known how busy the place got in the run-up to September the first. "I don't blame you," he chuckled, sounding a lot like his older sons, Bill and Charlie, "You'll have the house to yourself then. Besides Sirius and Kreacher that is," he said. "I wouldn't put it past Sirius to make his escape," I said pointedly, "And I'm not going to stop him." I still considered it very unfair how Sirius was cooped up in the house like and ill-treated dog, and if he wanted to escape, ignoring Dumbledore's orders to stay inside, I sure wasn't going to stop him. Provided, of course, he took the necessary measures. "Fair enough. I can't imagine being stuck in this place," Mr. Weasley said, "I'll see you later ___!" "By Mr. Weasley," I said as I began to dry the dishes.
  4. I listened for the slam of the door, which came five minutes after bidding my friends a brief goodbye, and pointed my wand at the dishes, drying them and putting them away in a few seconds. I sighed with relief and sat down at the kitchen table, picking up the discarded Daily Prophet. I hadn't read the papers since I'd arrived at Grimmauld Place, as Mrs. Weasley had decided we were too young to know anything. Both Hermione and myself were furious, as we'd been keeping up at home. When we'd mentioned this to her, she'd countered that our parents, being muggles, didn't really know anything about all of this. So, needless to say, I was glad that I had the chance to sit down and read the paper in the peace and quiet. I glanced at the headline, and almost threw the paper down in contempt. Instead, I made myself a decent cup of coffee and settled down on the sofa and turned my attention to the article. *** MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS "RALLYING POINT" FOR OLD DEATH EATERS The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban. Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening, and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals. "We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals and beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached." *** I shook my head at the article. Sirius was curled up in his parents house, being submitted to the relentless jobs found by Mrs. Weasley. I laughed humourlessly and flicked open the newspaper. I read a little about the quidditch, but I couldn't seem to focus on the words as they swan before my eyes. My thoughts returned to the article. Was Fudge really that ignorant? Or was he just trying to deny the plain truth? There was no way anyone had broken out of Askaban unless the dementors had let them out, and that would mean that Voldermort had control of the dementors. Well, I thought, we already knew that. Why else would there be one near Harry's house? I sighed again and downed the rest of my coffee, revelling in the scorch it left as it rolled down my oesophagus.
  5. "____!" said a surprised voice. I threw the newspaper onto the neat, wooden table and turned round. "Oh! I thought you were going to Diagon Alley," I said to Cedric. "I thought the same about you," he said with a grimace. "I swear Mrs. Weasley deliberately keeps us apart," I said, standing up. Cedric laughed. "I think you're right." There was a lull in the conversation, before I picked it up again. "Has Sirius gone out yet?" I asked, knowing I'd been too wrapped up in my bubble to have heard the door if he had left the house, particularly in his near-silent dog-form. "Yeah. About half an hour ago." I gasped. Had it really been that long since the others had left? "Yup," Cedric said with a smile. Damn. I'd said that out loud. I blushed, causing Cedric to laugh. I rolled my eyes at him and glanced at my watch. It was the only thing I carried everywhere, world-to-world. Well, my watch and my wand. "Lunch?" I suggested. "Sure thing. D'you want to go out somewhere?" Cedric asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Are you asking me out on a date Mr. Diggory?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Only if you want it to be," he replied. I slapped his arm playfully. "Of course I want it to be stupid," I said. Cedric smiled and grabbed his wallet - full of muggle money - and handed me my coat. I pulled it on and opened the door. He took my hand, and we walked out together.
  6. Cedric and I walked along the paths, chatting aimlessly. We steered well clear of the topic that loomed before us all, not yet poking over the horizon. It would be soon though, and we all knew it. The article in the prophet was proof enough that Voldermort was wasting no more time than he needed to. He'd been waiting fourteen years already, he wasn't about to mess up and set himself back another ten years. "Where're we going?" I asked. "I thought we could go to the little Italian a few blocks up," he replied, "You might have seen it when you flew in." "I don't think so." "I've never been there, but it looks nice enough," he said. I nodded, and our conversation halted as we walked in silence for a few moments. Suddenly Cedric let go of my hand and fished something from his pocket. He pulled out a letter, still miraculously non-crumpled, with my name written on the front. I frowned as I took it, and Cedric smiled sheepishly. "I rescued it from Kreacher's den. He'd stolen it before it got to you," he said. I smiled. "Thank you," I replied. "It's no problem," he said, "We're here." He lead me into a cute little restaurant. Tables took up the majority of the floor space, but there were obvious paths left free for customers and staff to navigate between locations. The tables were a deep, mahogany brown and the chair were white leather. The shelves behind the counter were lined with expensive-looking wines and exotic cheeses and spices. I smiled at Cedric and pecked his lips once. I wasn't really a fan of PDA, but I couldn't help myself. I certainly wasn't the kind of girl that snogged in an empty classroom when they should be in class, then headed to lessons late, with messed up hair. No. That wasn't me at all. "Thank you. It looks wonderful," I said with a smile. Cedric wrapped his arm around my waist and tucked me into his side as we waited to be seated. "You're welcome." A minute or two later, and lanky boy of about Cedric's age walked up to us. He was probably working there for a bit of extra money over the summer. "Table for two please," Cedric said. The boy scowled, at Cedric and lead us to a table. "Can I get you anything to drink?" he asked us. Correction, he asked me, his back to Cedric. "A coke please," I said. Cedric ordered the same, and the boy left, throwing me several not-so-subtle looks as he walked the short distance to the counter. He returned with our drinks a few moments later, and we placed our orders. "Mushrooms?" I asked skeptically as I looked at what Cedric had ordered. "Yes?" he said, seeming confused. "Cedric, mushrooms are disgusting." "So are pistachios, and you like them," he countered. We bickered playfully back and forth, discussing various foods that we detested. Neither of us liked brussel sprouts, and we ended up trying to fathom why they'd become such a famous part of Christmas dinner. We never did come up with an answer. We finished eating, and left the restaurant, feeling content.
  7. We walked back towards the house happily, swinging our linked hands forwards and backwards. Cedric opened the door after revealing the house with his wand, as Mad-Eye had done with his staff. He grinned. "It's great being able to use magic," he said with a grin. "I can believe that," I said, "Another year and a bit and I'll have the same freedom." "You're lucky," Cedric said as he closed the door again, pulling me down onto the sofa, "Your birthday is early. You'll be able to take Apparition lessons next year." "Oh the joys of growing up," I said, sarcastically, although all the afore mentioned seemed pretty exciting to me. Cedric laughed. Our moment was interrupted by the rather loud entrance of the other temporary residents of number twelve Grimmauld Place. We listened as the trekked through the hallway, and some ran upstairs, probably to escape Mrs. Weasley. Cedric kissed me gently, before releasing me with a grin.
  8. I swatted his arm and stood up, turning to greet my returning friends. Suddenly, I remembered that Sirius had gone out. If Mrs. Weasley found out that he'd been gone, she'd certainly snitch to somebody. Well, perhaps she wouldn't, be she would give him a ridiculously hard time. I turned to Cedric, about to ask him quietly if Sirius was back yet, when the man himself walked down the staircase. I let out a silent sigh of relief. I'd wish the wrath of Mrs. Weasley on nobody, least of all Sirius. Hermione turned to me and dragged me up the stairs. I shot George a plea for help with my eyes, but he merely grinned and blew me a kiss. I felt a blush rise up my cheeks, but I was unable to ponder the gesture more as Hermione pulled me into her room.
  9. "____," she moaned, putting her head in her hands. "What? What's wrong?" I asked, looking to Ginny for answers. "It's Harry's hearing tomorrow," Ginny answered, her voice low. She shot a glance at the wall dividing our room and the room shared between Harry and Ron. "I know," I replied, still puzzled, "Even I remember that." Ginny smiled ruefully, and Hermione answered. "He's not exactly...happy," she said. I rolled my eyes, despite the situation. Duh. This was going to be like pulling teeth... "I can imagine that. Care to elaborate?" I asked, becoming more than a little impatient. "He's annoyed with Dumbledore. He assumed that Dumbledore would make some effort to contact him before the hearing," Ginny explained. "Why? I mean, I know Dumbledore will defend Harry but..." I trailed off, "Oh." "Uh huh. How are we supposed to explain that Dumbledore is deliberately trying to distance himself from Harry? He was trying to worm information out of us earlier. I'm sure he knows that we know something, but he doesn't know what. For that matter," Ginny continued, "Did Dumbledore tell you why he was trying to leave distance between himself and Harry?" I looked at Hermione, who shook her head. "No," I said, remembering the very unsatisfactory conversation we'd had, "But I can assume that it's some ingenious plan to keep him safe." There was silence in the room for a moment, all of us wrapped up in our thoughts. I presumed that we were all on the same level. Thinking about Harry, about Voldermort, about Dumbledore. Would Voldermort be as powerful as he was before? Would we ever find out why he attacked Harry's home all those years ago, causing the events over our years at Hogwarts? Would the Dark Lord ever be defeated? I flopped back on the bed and stared at the pure white ceiling. If only life were that simple... My eyelids felt suddenly heavy, and I fought to keep them open. I looked at my watch for the time, and saw that it hadn't even gone seven. I let out a long, hard yawn and rubbed my eyes, trying to pull some life back into myself and to release my eyes from their heavy prison. Hermione shot me a concerned glance. "I'm fine," I said, "Just tired. Is Mrs. Weasley making dinner yet?" "Probably," Ginny replied, exchanging a glance with my bushy-haired friend. I didn't reply. Instead, I gave in to the numb feeling that was spreading through my body. Just a minute of shut-eye... I thought, before drifting off into a deep, heavy sleep.
  10. "____," called an annoying voice. I felt somebody shake my shoulder. I shrugged them off, trying to drift back into dreamland. "____!" came the voice again, shaking my shoulder harder. I didn't try to rouse my tired body from its slumber. "____," whispered a different voice this time. The voice was more patient, and less demanding. I relaxed and turned back to the black numbness I'd been in for the last few hours. "Wake up ____," snapped the first voice. I'd have rolled my eyes if they were open. Someone's impatient... "If you want to miss Harry before his hearing, so be it," said a third, cheeky voice. That was all it took to snap me back to reality. My eyes flew open and I shot up, staring straight at three amused faced. I felt my face heat up as I turned ten shades of scarlet, and I diverted my eyes from the gazes of my friends. Cedric sat on the bed I'd passed out on, and Ginny stood behind him, hands on her hips as she glared at me. Fred had a cheeky, triumphant grin in his face that I immediately distrusted. "How long have I been asleep?" I asked, my voice thick with sleep. "Well over twelve hours. it's gone nine o'clock," Fred said with a grin. "Wo knew our early bird could sleep for so long?" Ginny grumbled as she left the room. We laughed at her, and I swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing up. I took a glance at myself in the mirror and let out a groan. My hair looked like a birds nest, and my face was flushed frm my earlier embarrassment. My lips were cracked and my shirt was creased from where I'd slept in it. "I'm sure he won't even notice your attire," Fred said, his breath hot on my ear. I blushed, yet again, and turned away from my reflection. I followed Cedric down the stairs quickly, and tripped on the bottom stair, me being coordinated and all. Note the sarcasm. Cedric steadied me, and stood aside so that I could bid Harry goodbye and good luck.
  11. "Good luck Harry," I whispered, wrapping my arms around him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed me gently. "Thank you. For everything," he replied, his words for my ears only. "Don't," I said. He made it sound like this was goodbye. I felt a knot form at the back of my throat. There is nothing to be emotional about, I scolded myself, he'll be back later today. Or will he? Asked a horrible, snide voice in the back of my mind. I pushed away the contradictory thoughts, and released Harry. "I'll see you later. Wand in-tact," I said with a snake smile. Harry returned my smile, though it was rather half-hearted. I took a step back as he hugged Sirius, and I felt a pair of arms thread themselves around my waist. I leant my head back against Cedric's chest and watched as Harry left the house with Mr. Weasley. Would he return? I certainly hoped so. If not, Voldermort had won before the battle even began.
  12. (vulturemonem) Phew! I must admit, I had quite a hard time writing that one. It didn't come as naturally as the other's do. I hope it was ok, but feel free to offer some advice or critism. Oh, and I know that article in the Daily Prophet comes much later in the books, but I wanted it there. My story, my rules! That's all folks! Thanks!

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