the prince - f.weasley

- c h a p t e r - n i n e t e e n -

"It's one of Fred and George's Spell-Checking ones, but I think the charm must be wearing off."

"Yes, it must," Hermione pointed at the title of his essay, "because we were asked how we'd deal with Dementors, not 'Dugbogs', and I don't remember you changing your name to 'Roonil Wazlib' either."

"Ah no!" Ron exclaimed in horror. "Don't say I'll have to write the whole thing out again!"

"It's okay, we can fix it," Hermione told him with a comforting look as she pulled the essay back to her again and grabbed her wand.

"I love you, Hermione," Ron sank into his chair warily–rubbing his eyes.

Gemma and Hermione looked at one another–and the former hid a smile behind her hands as Hermione blushed a little and said, "Don't let Lavender hear you saying that."

"I won't," Ron said into his hands. Then he dropped them and said, "Or maybe I will, then she'll ditch me."

"Why don't you ditch her if you want to finish it?" Harry asked.

"You haven't ever chucked anyone, have you?" Ron turned to him. "You and Cho just—"

"Crumbled at the seams," Gemma commented. "Disintegrated. Poofed out of existence."

Harry snorted–rolling his eyes, "Yes, Gemma, thank you. But yeah, we sort of fell apart, yeah..."

"Wish that would happen with me and Lavender," Ron said gloomily as he watched Hermione silently tap each of his misspelt words with the end of her wand. Gemma assumed they corrected themselves as Ron continued to say, "But the more I hint I want to finish it, the tighter she holds on. It's like going out with the giant squid."

"There," Hermione exclaimed about twenty minutes later.

"Thanks a million," Ron sighed. "Can I borrow your quill for the conclusion?"

Gemma was half-asleep as Hermione was absentmindedly fiddling with her hair while she read a textbook.

She was about to drift off when a loud CRACK sent her sitting straight up–getting a book to the nose as Hermione shrieked.

"Kreacher!" Harry cried as Gemma clutched her nose.

"Master said he wanted regular reports on what the Malfoy boy is doing, so Kreacher has come to give—" The house-elf was bowing deeply as he replied.

CRACK!

Dobby appeared beside Kreacher and squeaked, "Dobby has been helping too, Harry Potter! And Kreacher ought to tell Dobby when he is coming to see Harry Potter so they can make their reports together!"

"What is this?" Hermione questioned–her eyes wide with shock. "What's going on, Harry?"

Harry looked at Gemma, and she waved a lazy hand at him–motioning for him to explain.

"Well. . . they've been following Malfoy for me," Harry finally explained.

"Night and day," Kreacher admitted.

"Dobby has not slept for a week, Harry Potter!" Dobby cried proudly–literally swaying in his spot.

Gemma pinched her lips–ignoring the throbbing in her nose.

She hadn't realised the elves would take Harry's orders so literally–and end up shirking taking care of themselves. It was unnerving and slightly appalling.

"You haven't slept, Dobby? But surely, Harry, you didn't tell him not to—" Hermione started to lay into the Potter boy.

"No, of course I didn't," Harry interrupted quickly. "Dobby, you can sleep, all right? But has either of you found out anything?"