"Good morning, Amisty," Noel whispered softly, shaking her shoulder as the sunlight spilled in through the open window.
She blinked, confused as she sat up and rubbed her eyes, "Dad? What's going -- "
Everything came back in a rush, and her fingers immediately went to her empty finger. Her heart thumped.
"I made you breakfast," He gave her a gentle, reassuring smile as he pressed a warm plate into her hands. "But you have to go back up to the castle soon. Hermione sent an owl this morning."
"What did she say?" She asked blearily, still half asleep. For such a treacherous day it certainly led to the best sleep of her life.
"Just that they're worried about you and that they hope they'll see you at breakfast," He replied, pushing her plate closer to her. "But I figured I'd let you sleep late and eat here before you went back up."
"Thanks," She smiled, cleaning her plate of eggs and bacon before downing the glass of water and running a hand through he messy hair.
"Here," Noel waved his wand in her vague direction and the curls on her head smoothed. "Much better."
She stared, patting the top of her head in shock, "Where was that spell all of my life?!"
"It's more of an advanced spell, one of Echo's. Not quite in the textbooks, yet," He replied.
"Can you teach me it?" She leaned forward, eyes eager.
He laughed, "Not today, you're going to be late. But maybe some other time."
"Fair enough," She shrugged. "I'll see you later, Dad. Love you."
"Love you, too."
-=+=-
"Oh, would you look at that," Pansy's scathing voice reached her ears. "She's returned. What a shame, I really thought we'd have lost the little orphan for a bit."
"Get out of my way, Parkinson," Amisty sighed, fully unwilling to deal with the teasing.
"What do you think, Draco? Should we let the Mudblood pass?" She cooed sweetly.
Amisty stiffened, not having yet to see him. She looked up, surprised at the coldness in his silver eyes.
It was the first time in a while she had seen Crabbe and Goyle stand with him, and it was far from a welcome sight.
"Thanks for the chit chat, but I really need to get inside the Great Hall -- " She rolled her eyes, moving to push past them.
Hearing that word, that horrible, horrible word again finally sparked back her anger at him. An anger she had been fighting to gain after that fiasco in Hogsmeade.
"Oh, but I really don't know," Pansy held out an arm, blocking her path.
Amisty resisted the urge to spit in her pug-face.
"Maybe you'll make the front page again?"
"Let her go, Pansy," Malfoy scowled frigidly at Amisty, wrapping his arm around Pansy's waist. "She's not worth our time."
She scowled, turning away and putting as much venom in her voice as she could manage before snapping back, "Glad to see we're on the same page."
Holding her head high, she walked over to her normal seat, welcoming the kindle of the flame in her chest.
"You're back!" Hermione smiled as she sat down, giving her a quick hug.
"Yeah, sorry. I should've wrote that I was spending the night," She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear sheepishly.
"Well," Harry looked up, grinning, "glad to know you didn't freeze outside."
She decided against telling them she would have if Noel hadn't found her.
"Where's your ring?" Hermione whispered softly, leaning close so the boys couldn't overhear.
Amisty looked away quickly, her throat tightening and voice strained as she replied, "Gave it back."
Hermione frowned, placing her hand over her's in a gentle sign of reassurance.
Then the owl post came in, and the owl that had come with Sirius's request for the Hogsmeade dates was back, disheveled and miserable.
"Hi there," Amisty whispered, smoothing out his feathers as best as she could manage and handing him a slice of bread.
He blinked his thanks and flew off, clearly wanting to avoid being sent out again.
Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can.
"He hasn't come back to Hogsmeade?" Ron protested.
"It looks like it, doesn't it?" Hermione replied apprehensively.
"I can't believe him, if he's caught..." Harry muttered darkly.
"Made it so far, though, hasn't he? And it's not like the place is swarming with dementors anymore," Ron pointed out.
"And the whole town is pretty sleepy, anyway," Amisty added. "No one really notices anything."
Harry folded the letter silently, seeming thoughtful.
-=+=-
The four of them walked down to the dungeons for Potions, coming face to face with a crowd of Slytherins.
Amisty pointedly looked away from Malfoy, her jaw twitching.
"There they are, there they are!" Pansy giggled (more like screeched), a magazine clutched in her hands as she smirked at them with a vile expression look in her muddy brown eyes.
She threw the magazine at Hermione, "You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!"
The dungeon door opened and Snape let them in, looking surly and foul-tempered as usual. They took their usual seats at the back of the class, and Hermione took it upon herself to dig through the pages as Snape wrote up the directions and ingredients on the blackboard.
Amisty nearly screamed aloud at the title, and subsequent author.
Harry Potter's Secret Heartache
A boy like no other, perhaps -- yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter.
Because who else would it be, right? Who else would go around ruining people's lives? Amisty was certain the desk was going to shatter into splinters, she was gripping it so hard.
Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.
Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."
However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.
"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."
Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.
"I told you! I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of -- of scarlet woman!" Ron hissed.
Hermione covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her giggles, "Scarlet woman?"
"It's what my mum calls them," Ron muttered back, looking away as his ears turned scarlet.
"If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch. What a pile of old rubbish," Hermione giggled, throwing the magazine off to the side. "Really, after that whole fiasco with Amisty, you'd think she could do better. Sorry."
Amisty nodded stiffly, unable to comprehend how well Hermione was taking this but willing herself to calm down so the Slytherin's didn't rejoice over her losing her temper.
"There's something funny, though," Hermione muttered a few minutes later, halfway through crushing her scarab beetles. "How could Rita Skeeter have known...?"
"Slytherin spies," Amisty muttered darkly, taking great joy in imagining the beetles as Malfoy's face.
"Know what? You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?" Ron accused.
"Don't be stupid. No, it's just... how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?" Hermione replied before realizing her mistake and looking away.
"What?" Ron hissed, his pestle falling to the desk with a loud thump.
"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake. After he'd gotten rid of his shark's head," Hermione explained hesitantly. "Amisty gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to -- "
"And what did you say?" Ron asked, oblivious to the fact that he was grinding up his desk and not the scarab beetles.
"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else, but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there... or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task..." Hermione went on as if there hadn't been an interruption.
"And what did you say?" Ron repeated.
"Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry were okay to -- " Hermione began.
"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Granger, I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape drawled icily, sliding up to their desks.
Amisty looked down as the class looked their way.
"Ah... reading magazines under the table as well? A further ten points from Gryffindor... oh but of course... Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings..." Snape continued with a sort of dark glee as the Slytherins broke out into laughter.
"'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache'... dear, dear, Potter, what's ailing you now?"
Amisty was keenly aware of his dark gaze sweeping over to where she was standing. Her grip on her pestle tightened.
"'A boy like no other, perhaps..."
He read the letter out to the class, pausing to let the Slytherins laugh and leering the whole time. Harry was scarlet, and Hermione seemed desperate to hide her face behind a curtain of hair.
"'...Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.' How very touching," Snape rolled up the magazine, the Slytherins continued to cackle.
"Well, I think I had better separate the four of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Miss River..."
His voice trailed off as he scanned the room, clearly searching for the worst possible place to put her.
Her heart sank at the sight of the empty seat next to Malfoy.
'Anyone but him, please, Merlin, anyone but him. I swear, I might dislocate his jaw if I sit next to him, please. Just this one time, anyone else, anyone else -- "
"By Malfoy. Potter -- that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."
She squeezed her eyes shut tight, taking a deep breath as quite a few people laughed not-so-secretly.
"Sir, I really don't think -- " She started to protest, as polite as she could manage speaking to Snape.
"Now, Miss River," Snape growled dangerously, his eyes flashing with a joyous venom. "There's no journalists to report about it."
The class rang with laughter as she gathered her belongings, dropping them in her new seat with unneeded recklessness and causing quite a ruckus in the quiet dungeon.
She was certain she looked about ready to kill.
Maybe she was, it wouldn't surprise her.
Malfoy was smirking. It was almost like they were back to their second-year selves.
Helloooo~! Back at it again with my late updates, I know. Sorry, school has been rough with it being the end of the semester and everything. I'm dealing with it, though, working on keeping up with everything. And more on time updates, hopefully. Depending on how well I actually do on that. Thanks for reading!