Status: Full speed on!
Monsoon Wings
Chapter 23 - Another Funny Thing
When the new term started, buzzlings and chattering were again common in the Hogwarts castle. Hermione had grown dangerous concerning Harry’s second task. More than that, she had become even more dangerous towards Juno. When asked, Hermione was always sniffing disapprovingly.
‘It’s what’s happening between you and Malfoy,’ she explained that morning before breakfast.
‘Now what’s about it again?’ Juno asked, exasperated.
Really. The whole world knows nothing is between them. But the whole world doesn’t know about her relation with Stamp, though.
She blushed. Luckily, Hermione was busy straightening her bushy hair in from of the mirror.
‘It’s the necklace he’s wearing.’ Hermione spoke. ‘It’s exactly the set of two of the one hanging there,’ she pointed to the bell necklace hanging from the window handle.
‘Oh, I had wanted to ask him about that,’ Juno coughed, avoiding Hermione’s look.
‘You’d better straighten it out,’ Hermione clapped her hands, satisfied of her own hair. ‘Lucky Jayden hasn’t noticed.’
That day was Wednesday, and before lunch they had one Charms lesson with the Slytherins. Throughout the lesson, Hermione was constantly throwing dark looks over Juno and Draco.
Things started out witty. After lunch, they all marched to History of Magic—again with the Slytherins. It was hard not to notice. Firstly, during lunch. Only a couple stared at Draco. The next ten minutes, big groups were giggling around, continuously glancing at Draco.
Draco was always used to being gawked at, but this time was unusual. By the time the bell rang, even Crabbe and Goyle snickered at him, obviously concealing something nasty. Something vile which had started to smell.
‘What is so funny?’ Draco demanded angrily. He turned to Juno, who was as mesmerized as he was. ‘Something on my face? Or did someone filthy stick a sticky note on my back?’
‘Nothing of that sort,’ Juno replied, observing. Everything was the same.
By the time they had reached the History of Magic classroom, things had started going out of hand.
People were also staring and gossiping about Olivia. All the way through the lesson, small parchments were passed around each group. Clearly they were making notes about something. After every 10 seconds, someone glanced either at Olivia or Draco. Olivia, meanwhile, was looking as stupefied as they were.
What is going on?
Olivia and Draco?
After History of Magic, Olivia nervously joined Hermione, ignoring the stares from all corners. Hermione was in contrast of this: she avoided Olivia’s eyes.
‘Damn it, Hermione, tell me what is going on,’ Olivia whispered hurriedly, trying to sound as casual as possible. Fancy if anyone heard her voice quivering. They both had walked out of the classroom, and the stares from students in the halls were becoming strict.
‘Um,’ Hermione mumbled. ‘I really don’t know who did this—’ she stopped, checking her timetable. Odd. Yeah. Hermione was always the first one to remember the subjects even since the day the timetables were distributed.
‘What?’ Olivia demanded, as a couple of second-years rudely pointed at her for no reason at all.
‘Um, just see it for yourself near the glass-hour in the ground floor,’ Hermione buzzed, then stalked away like a mad rat seeing a cheese.
Still puzzled, Olivia decided to skip Divination and headed to the first floor, taking the secret route past the portrait of Willy the Wheezing Wooer near the hospital wing, so as to meet the least people as possible.
Which was not the true result.
Near the giant glass-hour which record the house points was a giant billboard containing details and timetable of Quidditch practices of all houses (which was not the subject to this year, considering the Tournament). And people were gathering around, like a bunch of housewives lining to receive free rice.
Shit, Olivia thought. She withdrew her steps and slipped into the hospital wing, peeping out, trying not to be too vivid. Luckily Madam Pomfrey was somewhere in her office, and as long as Olivia did not make the slightest noise, the matron would not notice her presence. After what seemed like a whole day the crowd finally thinned, disperseing into their respective classes.
Like a rat, Olivia slipped out again to find out what was written in the billboard.
A crumpled piece of parchment, stuck magically, was the reason of everything.
Olivia’s eyes darted along the unfamiliar ink writing on the paper.
And her eyes stung with every line.
She made a mad roar before ripping the parchment off and stalking away.
Draco Malfoy, you’ll pay for this.
She walked very briskly, crushing the parchment in her sweaty palm. Waterfall was intimidating her mind, she could only see red. One thing became engraved inside her: find Draco Malfoy.
Of course, everyone was in class.
Realizing that it was twenty minutes to dinner, Olivia ran to the Gryffindor common room, straight into her dorm and cried onto her bed. She felt so stressed out, so hurt, so weak.
How could you do this to me?
‘It’s what’s happening between you and Malfoy,’ she explained that morning before breakfast.
‘Now what’s about it again?’ Juno asked, exasperated.
Really. The whole world knows nothing is between them. But the whole world doesn’t know about her relation with Stamp, though.
She blushed. Luckily, Hermione was busy straightening her bushy hair in from of the mirror.
‘It’s the necklace he’s wearing.’ Hermione spoke. ‘It’s exactly the set of two of the one hanging there,’ she pointed to the bell necklace hanging from the window handle.
‘Oh, I had wanted to ask him about that,’ Juno coughed, avoiding Hermione’s look.
‘You’d better straighten it out,’ Hermione clapped her hands, satisfied of her own hair. ‘Lucky Jayden hasn’t noticed.’
That day was Wednesday, and before lunch they had one Charms lesson with the Slytherins. Throughout the lesson, Hermione was constantly throwing dark looks over Juno and Draco.
Things started out witty. After lunch, they all marched to History of Magic—again with the Slytherins. It was hard not to notice. Firstly, during lunch. Only a couple stared at Draco. The next ten minutes, big groups were giggling around, continuously glancing at Draco.
Draco was always used to being gawked at, but this time was unusual. By the time the bell rang, even Crabbe and Goyle snickered at him, obviously concealing something nasty. Something vile which had started to smell.
‘What is so funny?’ Draco demanded angrily. He turned to Juno, who was as mesmerized as he was. ‘Something on my face? Or did someone filthy stick a sticky note on my back?’
‘Nothing of that sort,’ Juno replied, observing. Everything was the same.
By the time they had reached the History of Magic classroom, things had started going out of hand.
People were also staring and gossiping about Olivia. All the way through the lesson, small parchments were passed around each group. Clearly they were making notes about something. After every 10 seconds, someone glanced either at Olivia or Draco. Olivia, meanwhile, was looking as stupefied as they were.
What is going on?
Olivia and Draco?
After History of Magic, Olivia nervously joined Hermione, ignoring the stares from all corners. Hermione was in contrast of this: she avoided Olivia’s eyes.
‘Damn it, Hermione, tell me what is going on,’ Olivia whispered hurriedly, trying to sound as casual as possible. Fancy if anyone heard her voice quivering. They both had walked out of the classroom, and the stares from students in the halls were becoming strict.
‘Um,’ Hermione mumbled. ‘I really don’t know who did this—’ she stopped, checking her timetable. Odd. Yeah. Hermione was always the first one to remember the subjects even since the day the timetables were distributed.
‘What?’ Olivia demanded, as a couple of second-years rudely pointed at her for no reason at all.
‘Um, just see it for yourself near the glass-hour in the ground floor,’ Hermione buzzed, then stalked away like a mad rat seeing a cheese.
Still puzzled, Olivia decided to skip Divination and headed to the first floor, taking the secret route past the portrait of Willy the Wheezing Wooer near the hospital wing, so as to meet the least people as possible.
Which was not the true result.
Near the giant glass-hour which record the house points was a giant billboard containing details and timetable of Quidditch practices of all houses (which was not the subject to this year, considering the Tournament). And people were gathering around, like a bunch of housewives lining to receive free rice.
Shit, Olivia thought. She withdrew her steps and slipped into the hospital wing, peeping out, trying not to be too vivid. Luckily Madam Pomfrey was somewhere in her office, and as long as Olivia did not make the slightest noise, the matron would not notice her presence. After what seemed like a whole day the crowd finally thinned, disperseing into their respective classes.
Like a rat, Olivia slipped out again to find out what was written in the billboard.
A crumpled piece of parchment, stuck magically, was the reason of everything.
Olivia’s eyes darted along the unfamiliar ink writing on the paper.
And her eyes stung with every line.
She made a mad roar before ripping the parchment off and stalking away.
Draco Malfoy, you’ll pay for this.
She walked very briskly, crushing the parchment in her sweaty palm. Waterfall was intimidating her mind, she could only see red. One thing became engraved inside her: find Draco Malfoy.
Of course, everyone was in class.
Realizing that it was twenty minutes to dinner, Olivia ran to the Gryffindor common room, straight into her dorm and cried onto her bed. She felt so stressed out, so hurt, so weak.
How could you do this to me?