Loonar

It took us far longer than it should have to reach Hogsmeade. We'd even gone down to breakfast late which was practically unheard of. Leanne had stuck by her guns, and although it was barely spitting outside was still going to completely sit the trip out. I left her in bed, although she sleepily agreed to help me put on my necklace and critiqued what I was wearing.

Katie was up and ready, but had promised Alicia that she would help her collect some broomstick kit from the post office first thing. She would then be meeting us at the Hogs Head at the arranged time of half past ten. I'd walked down into the Common Room with her, only to find it missing practically anyone I was looking for. I saw the back of Lee Jordan's head as no doubt he and the twins went for food. There was no sign of Hermione, Harry or Ron either.

I'd sighed, and plodded up to the boys room, knocking a few times. “It's me.” I had to call loudly before I was allowed in. Ryan was running a towel through his hair, half dressed, whilst Aaron sat propped up in bed reading our potions textbook. I told him half-heartedly to give himself a day off. It appeared that we were waiting for Dale, who, not satisfied with his hair, had gone back to rinse it and try again. I'd complained a bit but left them to it, heading back down to the common room and slamming onto an armchair.

Thankfully, they didn't take too long, and in that time Neville had come down, still carrying his explosive plant like one does a baby. He placed it in-between us, finding my near constant glances at it hilarious. “You coming to Hogsmeade?” I asked gently, watching behind him as Dean and Seamus left through the portrait hole. He shrugged, and I felt a familiar sting of shame and pity. I should make more time for Neville. “Wait, no, wait, yeah I am. It's the meeting isn't it?” I nod, and his face lights up, “Definitely then. I forgot about that! Anything Harry can tell us is important.” He too, grabbing the pot, runs back up the boys stairs.

An age later, we're at breakfast, Neville included and scoff some food down before being scanned and prodded by Filch. “What time are we meeting?” Ryan asks, sloping a few steps ahead as he stares longingly at Ellie Martin further down the hill. Dale shares the face I pull, it was never going to happen. “Half past Ten,” Neville says brightly, long past his epiphany and looking excited. He fiddles with his backpack and nearly trips over his laces. I wrench him up, shooting glares at a few of the Slytherins in his year as they saunter pass and laugh unkindly. “Your year is full of some real cun-”

“Dale!” I scold quickly, ignoring him as he shrugs and defends the word. Neville shoots him a conspirators grin and before too long Hogsmeade is on the horizon. “I need to go to the post office at some point.” Dale reminds me, “Send Mum her card and a letter.” I echo his sentiment, planning on grabbing a card for the very same purpose. I really liked Dale's Mum. “Might have to do it after.” Ryan has slowed down to meet our gait, his hands firmly in his pockets in what Leanne and I call his 'cool walk'. He's hoping Ellie will need to turn around at some point. “By the time we get into town, we'll have to go straight to the Hogs Head.”

“Have you ever been in there before?” Neville asks, voice a little nervous. I shrug, we had been, more than a few times. It wasn't necessarily out of bounds, as Hagrid had to admit one time we saw him sat at the bar. But most students preferred the Three Broomsticks, where you were less likely to get any sort of infectious disease. Ryan leaps on the chance to show off, and Neville is so easy to impress it doesn't take much. By the time the very exaggerated story is over we're outside the pub, and I thank Dale as he opens the door for us.

There are already a few others inside, bundled in one corner. The rest of the pub is quite empty, and all of the people in here look a little shady. Ryan is eyeing up the bar but we grab a few chairs, squashing beside Fred and George. Both of them offer me a familiar hello, but only one of them makes me feel fuzzy. I tug my gaze away quickly, waiting as several others enter. There were some I wouldn't have expected. Cho for one, and Marietta, who shoots Ryan a deadly look as she enters and sits on a chair, looking like she'd rather be anywhere but here. “Awkward.” Dale sings under his breath, Ryan kicks his shin in retaliation. Finally, and running a little past the set time it seems we have everyone and both Hermione and Harry look somewhat petrified. He hisses to her lowly, hidden when Fred and George try to order everyone a butterbeer.

We're all sipping a few minutes later, I'd pressed the money for all three of our drinks into George's overly warm hand when Hermione starts speaking. All in all, it seems to go quite well. Harry comes across, once he gets into it, as quite confident and I'm sold. Of course, there had been a few awkward moments, Harry snapping he wasn't going to discuss Cedric to a Hufflepuff whose name I didn't originally know. But people are impressed, question and praise his abilities. A patch of pink appears high on his cheekbones as this happens and I smile at Hermione.

I scribble my name quite happily on the piece of parchment that moves around the group afterwards. A couple don't. I get it, we're practically signing our death warrant if this was to come into Umbridge's hands. Perhaps that why I was so eager to do it, to shove it in her face that she wasn't the almighty power she believed. I watch Zacharias Smith struggle with it, his overly plump lips in a scowl. He's been vile for the whole time we've been here, Fred is glowering at him still, and I remember some half-familiar tale about issues with him in Quidditch.

We're a group. Signed what feels like a contact and that is that. For the time being at least, Hermione appears to have the fun task of deciding when and where we should meet. Angelina is, of course, the first to insist it couldn't possibly clash with quidditch training.  'Well, time's ticking on,' Fred starts, shooting a look at his twin and saying how they need to go and buy some bits. The way he words it makes it clear there aren't usual Zonkos products.

“Show you later,” George mumbles to me, hand on my shoulder as they leave. The bare section of skin his fingers catch tingles and I clear my throat. “Post office?” Dale offers, as a few others start to get to their feet. I agree, and Ryan downs the rest of his butterbeer. “Reckon he'll sell us firewhisky again?” He asks, eyes darting to the old barkeep.

“Doubt it, if he didn't know before it's pretty obvious we're students now.” Dale shrugs back on his jacket, hand moving up to check his hair. “You think he cares that we're students?” Ryan looks ready to give it a go, and I can see the determination on his face. “I'm gunna try.”

“If you bring any alcohol into school...” His eyes widen at a stern face but he grins and vanishes.

“He won't get it Hermione, don't worry,” Dale says casually, nudging me so I start speaking to her and helping her sort her bag. As much as I like Hermione if she had her way I'm sure fun would be rationed. “So, the list...” I start, fluffing my own hair, “Once we start meeting...”

“I'll jinx it.” She says simply, but she keeps very voice low in a conspiratory whisper. “I mean, I read up on some bits in the library and I have an idea which means... to be honest, I was hoping you'd help me with it. Just so if...”

“If anyone tells, well... the options are pretty much open if you're making it up.” She takes this in, does the clasp on her bag as I see Ryan grabbing mine from the corner of my eye. “I'm quite happy with who signed it.” She responds although I can tell her mind is going a mile a minute.

“Mostly.” I allow, and she smiles, lips closed and echoes the word.

“No luck.” Ryan says a little too loudly, passing my backpack which feels remarkably heavier. “So you don't need to worry about it, Hermione.”

“It's the fact you would even entertain the idea.” She bristles, continuing as we head back onto the street. “Come on then,” Dale takes charge, and I shoot a bigger grin at Harry by way of a well done as we trot back down the cobbles. “Sorry,” Dale breathes, “I knew once she got going...”

Ryan makes a noise of agreement. “You got it then?” I ask unnecessarily, juggling the additional weight in my bag. “Obviously.” He drawls, smirking at me.

“And how are you planning to get it past Filch?” I leave a few moments to let it sink in. “Since he's checking us in and out of the castle?” His brow furrows on cue.

“But he's checking for dark material, right? So nothing should come up...”

“And if he asks to see in my bag?” I counter again, not fancying whatever foul detention would follow. He pouts again, Dale just looks bemused at the whole exchange. “Can we... transfigure it into something?”

“Something like what?” We continue our argument, albeit much more quietly in the post office. “Just a bottle of something else...”

“A bottle of what?”

“You two are making it way more difficult than it needs to be.” Dale declares eventually when we're still brainstorming outside of Dervish & Banges. He leads us back to the Hogs Head and purchases three more butter beers. We drink the bottles outside and wander off towards the wooded area before the Shrieking Shack. It's easy to twig what Dale is getting at, so Ryan keeps the bottle caps.

Once the bottles are empty, and refilled with firewhisky he puts the caps back on, seals it with a simple reparo and so long as Filch isn't planning on opening up containers we're in the clear.

“This is far too much work for what we're getting out of it,” I grumble eventually, as they push the bottles back into my bag. Dale's scarf nests them and he frowns when I push the money for the butterbeers back into his palm. I don't let him complain about me buying them earlier as well, just grab Ryan by the hand and head back to the path. Dale hates borrowing money. It was because of his home situation, he had little, his Mum works her socks off, but it's never been quite enough. We'd had many colourful conversations, as my Dad would word it, regarding money in the past, thankfully, and however he felt about things he just accepted the sickles with a frown and grabbed his wallet from his pocket.

“Anywhere else we want to go before we head up?”

“I think we should just stock up on sugar. Head to Honeydukes?” The boys both agree, debating what sweets are best to get us through the essays we've planned for tonight when Ryan stops dead. I almost bump into him, trying to see what he's staring at inside Madam Puddifoot's. “Aw, unlucky mate.” Dale catches on before I do, patting him on the shoulder, “Guess it just wasn't to be.”

I finally spot the couple they're staring at, it's Ellie, which explains Ryan's reaction. They both glance at me when I see who she's staring lovingly at. “It's fine,” I assure them quickly, already irritated by the slightly pitiful look. “I broke up with him, it's fine, come on.”

I step away again, and the two scurry after me. “I haven't even thought about how weird it must be.”

“Why would it be weird?” Ryan looks at me like I'm an idiot, dodging around some third years who are heading out of the sweet shop. “Why wouldn't it be weird? You two were together for like....” he counts on his fingers, ignoring my expression, “Eight months. That's not nothing.”

“And we broke up.” I shrug like it is exactly nothing. “We've had the summer and everything. It's been fine.” He lifts a brow, “He's in Transfiguration and Charms with us, and my potions, it's not been weird.”

“Not much chance for it to get weird with McGonagall or Snape though is there?”

“It's fine.” I skirt around a couple of people, scooping Crystallised pineapple into a paper bag.

“Honestly Ryan, I'm not bothered.” Eyes narrowed he finally drops it, for a few minutes at least, as he sneaks a few chocolates into his mouth, coughing up steam discreetly. “What even is it about Eddie Carmichael that you liked?”

“You mean, what does Ellie like?” Dale interjects, tipping some ice mice into my bag. Ryan swears at him, earning a very loud tut from one of the shop assistants. Dale smiles, wide and shark-like.