Chapter Eight: Gryffindor's Hero

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October 1995 - Hogwarts

The next day I woke up just in time for lunch. I guess I did need my rest, even after sleeping for three days. After changing, I made my way to the great hall. I was famished. And excited to see Harry. I eagerly walked into the great hall, drawing some attention as I did. I stopped att the door and analyzed the room for my friends. And then I saw Harry's face stick out from the crowd and I watched his eyes light up as mine did the same. We ran to each other and I threw myself into his arms for the biggest hug we had ever shared.

"How are you?" he asked. "How's your arm? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," I assured him. And it only seemed right that I should kiss him, but of course I didn't. Then I saw Ron and Hermione walking over slowly. Hermione smiled at me as she hugged me gently. Ron gave me a high five, but I wasn't expecting anything else.

Harry and I sat next to eachother across from Ron and Hermione, as usual. And once again, there was a unignorable tension between Harry and I. It was driving me crazy. I could tell it was making Harry nervous. But nobody was more frustrated than Hermione. Ron, as always, was focused on his food.

"Miss Snape," I heard an unsettling voice behind me say. "Why aren't you in uniform?" I turned around to see Umbridge towering over me, clipboard in hand.

"I don't have class today," I explained.

"And why not?" How could she not know?

"She's been in the hospital wing," Hermione explained.

"For what reason?" Umbridge piped.

"She blacked out for three days," Ron said. "How did you not know?"

"Oh, I was well aware, Mr. Weasley," she said. "But I don't see how that explains your missing classes and your lack of a uniform." Was she serious?

"I have been unconscious," I explained to her. I said it as if I was talking to a two year old.

"Don't use that tone with me, young lady," she snapped. "What would your father say about your blatant disrespect towards authority?" I noticed my dad walking towards me, but she didn't. Perfect timing.

"Do you want to ask him?" I suggested.

"Miss Snape, that's enough," she declared. "I should give you detention for this tone."

"No!" Harry said.

"I don't think that will be necessary, professor," my dad said, towering over Umbridge. She jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Severus," she said. "Your daughter isn't wearing her uniform. And she had the audacity to tell me she will not be in my class today. I'll let you handle this." And with that, she promptly walked away, the sound of her heels echoing behind her. I think she only left the matter to my dad because she knew she had absolutely no right to give me punishment.

"Hey, dad," I said.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked me.

"I'm fine," I explained.

"Your arm?"

"It's alright."

"The minister feels it necessary to not allow you to continue to participate in quidditch anymore," he told me.

"What?" I asked. No quidditch? "The minister has no right to tell me if I can play a sport or not."

"Dumbledore has decided it should be up to me as your guardian. And I have to be honest, I'm not sure I want you to keep playing." Harry and I looked at each other, worried.

"Dad," I pleaded. "It's not that big of a deal."

"There have been worse quidditch accidents, professor," Harry explained.

"Pipe down, Potter. This does not concern you," Dad snapped.

"Why is the minister concerned for quidditch safety now?" I asked. "It's never been a problem before. And Harry's right. There have been far worse accidents-"

"I don't know why the minister is choosing now to start caring about quidditch safety," my dad said.

"It's cause he's out of his mind, that's why," Ron said under his breath to Hermione.

"What was that, Weasley?" my dad snapped again.

"Nothing, sir," he said. What did he mean? Fudge was out of his mind?

"Dad," I said. "I promise I'll be ok. If it happens again you can pull me off the team. But I promise I'll be ok." My dad sighed.

"One more incident," he said. "And you're off. Understood?" I nodded eagerly, then watched him walk away.

"That was close," Harry said.

"Yeah," I said back. "I think I need to go to the common room and relax," I said.

"Oh," Harry said, standing up. "We'll come with you. We have a free period."

"We do?" Ron asked, his mouth full of food.

"Yes," Hermione said. "We do." That's suspicious.

"Alright," I said slowly. We started walking to the common room together. Harry walked excitingly close to me. Close enough to where he could have held my hand. But he didn't. He could have, but he didn't.

I had to admit, I was a little disappointed when I wasn't embraced by Gryffindor. That was the only reason I wanted to win the game so badly. I wanted to cut ties with Slytherin and be embraced by Gryffindor. And I had succeeded with Slytherin, but not with Gryffindor so it seemed. But my disappointment dissolved completely when I walked into the common room only to be celebrated by most of Gryffindor's house. They had a sign that said Welcome Back, Grace! And I realized I had done it. Officially a Gryffindor. I didn't need to prove myself anymore.

On Friday night, Harry and I sat together in the common room, and I saw that Harry looked distraught.

"Harry," I said. "Are you alright?"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm fine." I sighed.

"Harry," I said. "You're lying to me."

"I'm not, Grace," he said. "I'm fine. Really. I've just been a little uneasy these past few days. I've been worried about you." I smiled a little. It was another moment when he could have made a move, but as usual, he didn't. The feeling was tormenting. It was like a countdown that never ended.

"I'm going to bed," I announced. "Good night, Harry." I made my way up the stairs to the dorms when I heard Harry call out to me.

"Grace?" he said. I noticed he had run over to the staircase, and I leaned over the rail to talk to him.

"Yes?" I asked.

"I was wondering," he said nervously. "Well, we're all going into Hogsmeade for the day tomorrow."

"Yes."

"Well, I was wondering. Maybe after the four of us are done, maybe you'd like to go to Three Broomsticks with me? Just the two of us?" Oh my god, it's happening. Was this a date? I assumed it was. It was his way of asking me out on a date. I smiled brightly.

"I'd love to," I said.

"Great," he said.

"Great," I repeated. Should I say it? I think I'm gonna say it. "It's a date," I smiled. Then I scurried off to bed, unable to contain my excitement. Finally, a date with Harry Potter. Not a drill, I repeat, not a drill.

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