Hogwarts, Year Six 1996-1997 -Part 2

"Oh, Mione, you didn't!" Ivy was torn between shock and amusement, watching as Hermione stiffly readied herself for bed. "You actually Confunded McLaggen? Isn't that against the rules?" She grinned brightly when her friend gave her an exasperated look, tugging her own pajama top over her head with a snicker.

"He's a giant, egotistical prat, Ivy." Hermione said with as much dignity as she could muster. "Harry would have kicked him off the team, I was simply saving him the time and aggravation."

"This has nothing to do with Ron, at all, then?" Ivy ducked when a pillow came flying her way, ignoring Lavender and Pavarti's demands to know what they were on about when they walked in. "That's what I thought!"

Scowling, Hermione drew her curtains around the bed.

~!~

"Half-blood Prince?" Ivy's black eyebrows rose when Harry asked her if she had ever heard that moniker. "How would I know, Harry? Sorry to disappoint you mate, but I'm a Pure-Blood. We don't associate with commoners, didn't you know?"

Ron and Hermione both chuckled at that, though Harry looked exasperated, obviously not finding Ivy's dose of sarcastic humor as amusing as he generally would have. "Ives, come on, I'm-"

"Look," Ivy took the book from him, ignoring his orders to mind the fragile binding, studying it. "I'm with Hermione on this one, this bloke was seriously dodgy. Have you even read this… thing all the way through?"

"No, I've-"

"You ought too, look at this one."

Harry took the book back, aware that Hermione was standing behind him trying to read over his shoulder as he stared down at the scribble Ivy had pointed out.

"I told you he was a shoddy character." Hermione said when she had read it, shaking her head.

"Or she." Ron chimed in helpfully.

Harry just read the spell, the opening line written in that cramped, miniscule print in the margin of the book was enough to send a jolt of unease down his spine.

'To make them bleed…'

~!~

"Harry, you don't have PROOF, that's the only thing wrong with your theory." Ivy said exasperatedly, wondering why she hadn't followed along with Ron and Hermione's new habit of not listening whenever Harry got to talking about Draco Malfoy being a Death Eater.

Frustration mounting rapidly, as it always seemed to do these days; Harry whirled around and stalked away from her. Why couldn't they see it? What else would Malfoy be on about? What kind of 'task' would Voldemort have given him? He was the only one who had made the connections and it was driving him mad.

"Oh no you don't Potter, you're not going to run away from me!" Ivy followed him, grabbing him by the sleeve of his robe and whirling him around, returning the glare he was giving her. Then she became aware that they were attracting attention, the entire courtyard seemed to be staring at them. "Come on." She muttered, not letting go as she guided him out into the grounds.

Harry waited until they were walking down the familiar path towards Hagrid's before speaking again, feeling some of his anger and frustration disappearing when she glanced up at him out of sympathetic eyes. He didn't really want sympathy, he wanted someone to believe him! "Why can't anyone just believe me?" He asked in a whisper.

"Harry, it's not that I don't believe you, but the thing is: you can't go around accusing Malfoy of being a Death Eater because you don't have concrete proof."

He growled, wondering how much more proof they needed! They had seen him hide his left arm from Madam Malkin! He had overheard Malfoy talking about Voldemort on the train. Malfoy had been skipping classes, what more proof was there?

As if reading his mind, Ivy shook her head. "Solid proof, Harry, that is the only way anyone else is going to believe." She looked like she wanted to say something else but finally sighed, stepping away from him. "I'm sorry, that's just how it is."

~!~

"Harry, enough… we'll talk about this later, when it isn't in class." Ivy whispered furiously, trying to pay attention to Professor Sprout. She was just as concerned as he was about Katie Bell but as they had no new leads –and she wasn't counting the Draco Malfoy theory he had just yet- she wasn't about to let him ruin her grades with his furious muttering.

Between them was a Snargaluff pod waiting to be squeezed and it seemed neither was all that eager to be touching it. They were supposed to reach down into the pot, into the stumpy thing, pull out a bean and give it a squeeze. The problem was, the roots got tetchy when you reached down and tried to take your arms off.

Hermione and Ron were right next to them, lost in their own little conversation, their own Snargaluff forgotten between them.

When they realized that Hermione was talking about Slughorn's upcoming Christmas party, and that Ron was getting jealous, they both shook their heads.

"Why don't you just take McLaggen and-"

Ivy rolled her eyes.

Harry eyeballed the stump, feeling the back of his neck burning at Hermione's quieter rely of: "Well, actually, I was thinking of asking you" and wondered just how that would work out if she and Ron got together.

Ivy was apparently thinking the same thing because when he managed to get a grip on the roots, she dived down with both hands into the stump. After a moment, she pulled back, clutching one of the pods with a disgusted yet triumphant look on her face. She chanced a glance at Ron and Hermione, both of them looking pink in the face but pleased with themselves.

Ivy and Harry exchanged looks.

~!~

"Bloody hell, she's lost her mind!" Ron panted, still holding his arms over his head as he looked about the common room, just in case Hermione and her flock of birds had chased him back here.

Ivy was guessing that Hermione had seen her 'date' for the Christmas party snogging Lavender Brown and wondered just how thick Ron truly was. "You're such a prat, Weasley." She said in the coldest tone she could muster, which was pretty chilly if the way Ron suddenly looked at her was any indication.

"Hey now, it's not like I was doing anything wrong, I was-" Ron faltered when Ivy pushed herself out of the armchair she had been staking out all night. He began backing away when she advanced on him, watching as she withdrew her wand. Giving it up as a lost battle, he fled for the stairs.

"Coward!"

~!~

"How's she doing?" Harry asked the following morning over breakfast, a breakfast neither Ron nor Hermione had shown up for.

Ivy shrugged, setting down the Daily Prophet she had been skimming through and reached for her goblet of orange juice, eyes narrowed. "She was up most of the night crying, and what really sucked was that bint Lavender running off at the mouth."

Harry winced, he hadn't given thought about Hermione and Lavender sharing a dorm. "But… they'll work it out, yeah?"

"Maybe. It is pretty messed up that he agreed to go out with her only to start snogging on that beastie not long after."

"Yeah, messed up." Harry echoed, knowing this was going to put a definite damp on the upcoming holiday mood.

~!~

"You can't just take anyone," Hermione said, leaning back against one of the numerous study tables in the library, staring at Harry intently. "See that girl over there?" She asked, gesturing subtly with her head to her right.

Harry followed her gaze, not so subtly to find a girl he recognized as a fifth year sitting with her back to the windows, staring down at a piece of parchment.

"That's Romilda Vane."

As if hearing her name, Romilda looked up and smiled slightly at him.

"Apparently she's trying to smuggle you a love potion."

Harry felt equal parts pleasure and paranoia. "Really?" He demanded, meeting Hermione's eyes briefly. Wasn't it her job to confiscate that sort of stuff? She was a prefect after all.

When Hermione realized his gaze had flickered back to Romilda, she rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers in his face, getting his attention again. "Hey! She's only interested in you because she thinks you're the Chosen One." She sounded thoroughly disgusted about it too.

"But I am the Chosen One."

Sighing in exasperation, Hermione smacked him over the head with a sheaf of parchment she had been carrying.

"Right, sorry."

"You had better find a date; and soon."

Right… the only question, Harry thought, was who did he want to take?