Headology 101 - Chapter 5 - Granny Learns the Truth (Part 1 of 2)
The term at Hogwarts was proceeding nicely and the two new appointed teachers, Professors Dumbledore and Weatherwax had settled into their new positions with ease. The students continued to be baffled by Professor Weatherwax’s unorthodox methods but there was no denying that what she was teaching was indeed useful, even if hardly any of it involved magic. Halloween was nearly upon the school and Professor Weatherwax had not performed a single piece of magic, not one spell nor charm, and certain people, namely Hermione, were growing suspicious of their new teacher.
‘I just think it’s strange, that’s all,’ said Hermione one cold mid-October morning. ‘Why doesn’t she want to use magic? It’s as if she prefers to do things the hard way.’
‘Come on Hermione,’ said Ron in between mouthfuls of cereal. ‘She’s great, hardly any homework.’
‘Trust you to think of that,’ sighed Hermione. ‘I’m not saying she’s not good at her job, I just find it a little odd that in a school of witchcraft and wizardry we have a teacher who all but avoids using magic. Why do you suppose it is, Harry?’
‘Maybe she don’t think showin’ off an’ flingin’ spells about the place is the proper way to teach you lot to defend yourself,’ said Professor Weatherwax, who seemed to have just appeared behind Hermione. Ron nearly choked on his cereal as Hermione’s eyes widened at the realisation that she had been caught talking about a teacher behind her back. Slowly, she turned round to face Professor Weatherwax.
‘P-Professor,’ stuttered Hermione. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know…’
‘S’not nice to be talkin’ about folk when they can’t hear you,’ said Professor Weatherwax sharply. ‘Or when you think they can’t hear you.’
‘I’m sorry Professor,’ stammered Hermione. ‘It won’t happen again.’
‘I daresay it won’t,’ sad the Professor before proceeding to the staff table. When Hermione turned back to face Harry and Ron they were both stifling huge grins.
‘Oh be quiet,’ said Hermione huffily, casting her gaze downwards towards her toast.
‘Way to put your foot in it Hermione,’ chuckled Ron.
‘Shut up,’ she snapped.
‘Hey, you guys sorted out dates for the Halloween ball?’ asked Harry, quickly changing the subject before another fight broke out between Ron and Hermione.
‘Nope,’ said Ron, indicating that he had no desire to even do so.
‘Sort of,’ said Hermione quietly, as if she did not want to be heard.
‘Sort of?’ said Ron, frowning slightly. ‘What, you want to take Lockhart but can’t because he’s banged up in St. Mungo’s?’ Ron looked proudly to Harry for some recognition on what he thought was a fine joke but before Harry could do anything Hermione bit back.
‘No!’ she said, blushing slightly. ‘Someone’s asked me but I don’t know if I want to go with them.’
‘It’s not Neville is it?’ asked Ron. ‘Hasn’t he asked you every year so far?’
‘No, it’s not Neville,’ said Hermione who did feel a little sorry for Neville because he had indeed asked her to some function or other since the first year.
‘Well who is it then?’ asked Ron, getting impatient.
‘Colin Creevey,’ said Hermione, blushing harder than before.
‘What? That kid who followed Harry round all our second year and wouldn’t stop taking pictures of him?’
‘You want to go with him?’ exclaimed Ron in clear disbelief.
‘I said I don’t know,’ repeated Hermione. ‘He’s actually a very sweet boy when you get to know him, but I just don’t know.’
‘Do you like him?’ asked Harry before Ron could protest further.
‘He’s nice enough,’ nodded Hermione.
‘Then why not go with him?’ reasoned Harry. ‘It’s only one date, it doesn’t mean anything, and you might have a really good time.’
‘Thanks Harry,’ smiled Hermione. ‘You know you’re right, when I next see Colin I’ll tell him I’ve made up my mind.’ With that Hermione finished off her pumpkin juice and said she was going to the library for a couple of minutes before class and that she would meet them there. When she was safely out of earshot Harry turned to Ron.
‘If you’re going to get so mad every time someone else takes Hermione to a school do you’re really going to have to pluck up the courage to ask her yourself.’ Ron could not have looked more shocked if Harry had told him he was eating horse manure and he seemed to choke on the torrent of words that wanted to fly forth from his mouth.
‘What are you talking about?’ he spluttered, ears turning red. ‘I don’t like Hermione in that way!’
‘Okay Ron,’ said Harry, not convinced one bit.
‘I don’t!’ repeated Ron, the rest of his face catching up with his ears in redness, but inside the privacy of his own mind a little voice was making itself heard, and it said ‘Do I?’
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