Misunderstood Maledictions | Tomione

Walk Like An Egyptian

Automatically, Hermione felt the sheer hate she had toward that evil man - no, that evil thing, spring up as it had in her own time - No, Hermione, relax, a calm little voice in the back of her mind called airily as Ginny muttered bitterly, "We'll make him pay before he even knows what hit him."

... Be the voice of reason in the sea of emotion... Just relax... Relax...

Miraculously, Hermione actually felt herself deflate, and she took a few, steadying breaths to clear her mind. Maybe this was why Lavender was such a yoga fanatic. "I don't know about you, but I don't especially feel like rotting in Azkaban because we gone and offed some seventeen-year-old without an apparent motive," she disagreed, shaking her head. "I think the best thing to do is to assess the situation thoroughly for a few days, weeks, whatever it takes, before we make any definite plans of destruction."

"She's right, West." Draco rolled over on his stomach, dropping his British accent and taking on an American southern drawl. "See, we gotta go about this real sneaky-like. This isn't some idiot we're dealing with, this is probably one of the smartest sons of a bitches Hogwarts has ever seen. We gotta find out what his game is, and we gotta play it."

Hermione tilted her head backwards, raising her eyebrows at Draco. "Very... expressively put, ferret. I agree with him," she continued in a louder voice, drowning out Draco's inevitable retort. "But I don't want you to be playing some sort of character that isn't really who you – we - are in order to get information, if you know what I mean."

"I see your point," Lavender said slowly. "We're going to be stuck here forever, and pretending to be someone else for that long would be really exhausting."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "Way to put this whole thing in a positive light, Lav," she said as she finished tracing cloud number eight and dropped her finger back to her lap.

"Thank you," Lavender replied cheerfully, climbing off the Hufflepuff bench and moving into a yoga tree pose.

"The thing is, we want to get as close, figuratively speaking, to Voldemort as possible," Hermione said, trying to flip through every piece of information she had on the Dark Lord. "From what modern Dumbledore told us, Voldemort was really very aloof in school. Had a few friends that you couldn't exactly call friends—more like partners in crime, I suppose... Apparently could have had a girlfriend if he wanted to, but Dumbledore said that he oddly ignored every girl who came his way no matter how much she may have thrown herself at him-"

"Which will be changing," Draco stated confidently, and Hermione suppressed the urged to gag. "Seriously, Grang—Nefertari, did you look through this year's yearbook? The sampling of male specimen is far less than desirable, especially if the Dark Lord was at the top of the Vixen's list." He smirked. "I might have to help alleviate some of the weight of that awful burden..."

"The girls aren't too hot, either, you know," Harry mused thoughtfully.

Hermione stared at him, shocked at the words that had just exited his mouth. Never before had she heard Harry Potter say something as superficial as that. "Harry!" she gasped.

Ginny groaned, shooting Hermione a knowing look, which Hermione interpreted perfectly: Men. Without hesitating, Ginny reached over her head and whacked Harry's leg lightly. "You better keep saying that," she grumbled.

"Yeah, but did you see that, er, that one Slytherin?" Draco asked, snapping his fingers several times in rapid succession. "Um, what was her name ... Columbia Salvi! She was hot."

"Oh! That one!" Harry snapped his fingers in agreement and pointed at Draco under the table. "Right she was!"

Letting out a growl, Ginny lifted her wand over her head, and said nonchalantly, "Expelliarmus." Instantly, a blue jet of light shot out of Ginny's wand into Harry. Instantly, he flew off the bench, banging into the Ravenclaw table and sending dishware rattling in all directions.