Things sure got more exciting at Hogwarts, but not in the ways I had hoped. Lavender kept cornering me to ask about Ron, as if we were now the best of friends.
"I mean, I am his girlfriend!" she whined one night as I brushed my purple hair. "Someone should have told me that my Won-Won was in Hospital!"
Even though I tried to ignore her, she didn't get the hint. Eventually, the conversations shifted to the state of their relationship.
"I mean, it's getting pretty serious, right? Do you think it's getting serious?" she asked me as I brushed my teeth one morning.
"Maybe you should be talking to your boyfriend about these things," I said, spitting the toothpaste out into the sink.
"Well, I would, but he's always asleep when I go and see him!" said Lavender fretfully.
I found this hard to believe, as Ron was always wide awake and eager to chat when Harry, Hermione, and I visited.
"I don't know, then." I shrugged, fixing the collar of my shirt.
"Is Hermione Granger still visiting him?" she demanded.
"Yeah, they're friends." I said hesitantly. "Of course she would visit him."
"Friends? Don't make me laugh," said Lavender scornfully. "She didn't talk to him for weeks after he started going out with me! But I suppose she wants to make up with him now he's all interesting. . . ."
"Interesting?" I repeated. "He's been poisoned, not made Captain of the Quidditch team, you insensitive idiot!"
"I didn't mean interesting..." she stuttered. "I just—"
"I've got to get going," I muttered as I stormed out of the room.
***
The Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff Quidditch match arrived in no time. I wasn't really in the mood for Quidditch, but I still went to support Harry.
"And that's Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle," said a dreamy voice, echoing over the grounds. "He did the commentary last time, of course, and Ginny Weasley flew into him, I think probably on purpose, it looked like it. Smith was being quite rude about Gryffindor, I expect he regrets that now he's playing them — oh, look, he's lost the Quaffle, Ginny took it from him, I do like her, she's very nice. . . ."
"Who's commentating?" I asked Hermione. "Is that Luna Lovegood?"
Hermione nodded, stifling her laughs. I shrugged. It couldn't be worse than Lee Jordan's commentary...
". . . but now that big Hufflepuff player's got the Quaffle from her, I can't remember his name, it's something like Bibble — no,
Buggins —"
"It's Cadwallader!" said Professor McGonagall loudly from beside Luna.
The crowd laughed.
Moments later, Cadwallader scored. I watched as McLaggen (who had subbed in for Ron as Keeper) had been shouting criticism at Ginny for allowing the Quaffle out of her possession.
"He's quite the character," I frowned, watching McLaggen and Harry shout at each other from the clouds. "What exactly did you see in him, Hermione?"
"Shut up!" she groaned. "It was a mistake!"
"And Harry Potter's now having an argument with his Keeper," said Luna serenely, while both Hufflepuffs and Slytherins below in the crowd cheered and jeered. "I don't think that'll help him find the Snitch, but maybe it's a clever ruse. . . ."
The score was now seventy-forty to Hufflepuff, and McLaggen was being a downright arse. I was ready to hop on a broom and take care of him myself.
"Oh, look! The Gryffindor Keeper's got hold of one of the Beater's bats." Luna said.
I searched through the sky, and sure enough,
McLaggen had taken one of the Beater's bats and seemed to be demonstrating how to hit a Bludger toward an oncoming Cadwallader.
"Will you give him back his bat and get back to the goal posts!" roared Harry.
But McLaggen ignored him and took a clean swipe at the Bludger. It missed and it flew right towards Harry's head.
"Oh god!" Hermione gasped.
***
I found myself sitting in those uncomfortable Hospital chairs once again. Harry laid on the bed, his face pale. He had not woken since his blow to the head, but Hermione and I remained in the Hospital Wing nonetheless.
"At least now I'll have company," Ron shrugged.
Hermione gave him a light whack on the arm.
"Your best friend has a cracked skull!" she frowned.
"Yeah, but he's tough. He'll be alright. He's the "Boy Who Lived" isn't he?" Ron chuckled.
"Goodnight Ron!" Hermione groaned, standing up from her chair.
"We'll visit again in the morning," I reassured him. "'Night,"
I gave Ron a wave and hurried up to meet Hermione at the doors. We headed back to the dormitory in silence.
"Do you like Ron?" I blurted as we reached the portrait hole.
"I— well no of cou—" she stuttered.
"Come on, Hermione. You wouldn't leave his side back there. Just tell me!" I begged.
"I don't really know," she sighed. "I was worried about him, sure. But friends can worry too..."
I rolled my eyes. I could tell that she had been worried, but definitely not in a friend way.
"When you finally accept your true feelings, let me know." I told her.
***
Harry and Ron left the hospital wing first thing on Monday morning. Everything seemed to be alright again, especially since Hermione and Ron seemed to have made amends.
However, while things improved with friends, they began declining academically. The homework I was assigned became almost intolerable. I spent every night in the common room, barely finishing my assignments in time to get a decent night's sleep.
But somehow, that sleep never came. I could never doze off for more than a few hours. Thoughts of war buzzed in my brain and the anxiety never ceased. I often fiddled with the ring Fred had gotten me, and waited for his replies to the messages I sent.
Easter holidays flew by, and soon it was back to work, work, work. My grades were getting iffy, and if I didn't get them up soon, I would have to kiss my future of being a Healer goodbye. My hair often turned back to its natural color from the amount of stress I was under.
One night, I did my homework with Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the common room. That stupid Potions book was making Harry top of the class, so I begged him to tutor me.
"It's not really me," he shrugged, looking over the homework. "It's the book."
"Can I borrow it then?"
"Well...I dunno..." he said hesitantly.
Just then, a young girl entered the common room. She walked up to our table and held a piece of parchment out to Harry.
"Thanks." he said, opening the note. "Dear Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Aragog died last night. Harry and Ron, you met him, and you know how special he was. Hermione, I know you'd have liked him. It would mean a lot to me if you'd nip down for the burial later this evening. I'm planning on doing it round dusk, that was his favorite time of day. I know you're not supposed to be out that late, but you can use the cloak. Wouldn't ask, but I can't face it alone. Hagrid"
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Hermione said.
"Who's Aragog?" I asked curiously.
"That stupid spider that almost killed us in second year!" Ron said furiously. "That thing told its mates to eat Harry and me! Told them to help themselves! And now Hagrid expects us to go down there and cry over its horrible hairy body!"
"It's not just that," said Hermione. "He's asking us to leave the castle at night and he knows security's a million times tighter and how much trouble we'd be in if we were caught."
"We've been down to see him by night before," said Harry.
"Yes, but for something like this?" said Hermione. "We've risked a lot to help Hagrid out, but after all — Aragog's dead. If it were a question of saving him —"
"— I'd want to go even less," said Ron firmly. "You didn't meet him, Hermione. Believe me, being dead will have improved him a lot."
"Harry, you can't be thinking of going," said Hermione. "It's such a pointless thing to get detention for."
"I agree," I cut in. "A giant spider funeral is not worth much."
Harry sighed. "Yeah, I know," he said. "I s'pose Hagrid'll have to bury Aragog without us."
"Yes, he will," said Hermione, looking relieved. "Look, Potions will be almost empty this afternoon, with us all off doing our Apparition tests...Try and soften Slughorn up a bit then!"
"Fifty-seventh time lucky, you think?" said Harry bitterly.
"Wish I could take my test," I grumbled.
Only students who were seventeen by the date of the test could take their exam, leaving Harry and I in the dust.
"Lucky," said Ron suddenly. "Harry, that's it — get lucky!"
"What d'you mean?"
"Use your lucky potion!"
"Ron, that's — that's it!" said Hermione, sounding stunned. "Of course! Why didn't I think of it?"
Harry stared at them both. "Felix Felicis?" he said. "I dunno . . . I was sort of saving it. . . ."
"What on earth is more important than this memory, Harry?" asked Hermione.
"Well . . . okay. If I can't get Slughorn to talk this afternoon, I'll take some Felix and have another go this evening."