Chapter 2 : Ch.1-The Train
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I began to glare at her, without realizing it, but despite my envy of her intelligence I couldn’t help but notice that she had changed greatly over the summer. She had gotten a perfect tan, while at the beach I would guess, and her hair had straightened out a bit and become a brown even darker then her eyes. I have to admit, if only in the back of my mind, she is quite beauty-
“Ron? Why are you glaring at me?” Hermione asked, glaring right back at me, with those gorgeous brown- as soon as that thought hit me I went in to a coughing fit.
“You all right, mate?” asked Harry concernedly, “Here have a drink,” he said offering me a soda pop. I took it gratefully, and tried to pretend that I had just gotten a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Bean stuck in my throat. “Well, as I said, at least we’re finished with Trelawny, why we ever tool that class, I’ll never know.”
“You took it, Harry, because you thought it would be an easy mark!” Hermione retorted with, what I assumed was, contempt for our laziness, “I told you that you should have dropped it with me, and if you had, Harry, wouldn’t have had to deal with all those death predictions,” she continued, in the tone of voice that I labeled as the Hermione Voice (why it never gets on my nerves I will never know!).
“If we hadn’t taken it, then Harry would never have heard that prediction of Trewlany’s (“PROFESSOR Trewlany, Ron!” muttered Hermione), and wouldn’t have missed the one time event of Trewlany’s True Trance!” I remarked mater-of-factly. Harry and I laughed at my little alliteration, Hermione tried not to look like she thought it was funny, but I think I saw a little smile, at least a grin.
“That’s true, but I still don’t understand why we stayed,” Harry remarked, with a dismissing shrug. That’s when the food trolley came bye, and we sat for a few minutes in silence. Then Crookshanks jumped up in my lap scattering my food everywhere.
“Stupid cat,” I muttered fondly, Crookshanks really wasn’t that bad, once you got used to him, “Oh well, at least I hadn’t opened any of it yet,” I remarked benevolently. Hermione then got up and came over to get Crookshanks, “NO, he’s fine, Hermione, I don’t mind, really,” I was suddenly worried she thought I didn’t like her cat.
“Oh, I know, it’s just that he’s been wondering around so much that I haven’t had a chance to check for bugs and stuff,” she muttered distractedly. She then bent to pick up Crookshanks, who squeaked unhappily (he wasn’t happy about being moved after making such a comfortable seat for himself), and leaned in real close, and I suddenly became dizzy, and I’m sure I was very read. Harry noticed this, while not remarking aloud on it (yet), he did raise his eyebrow meaningfully, and with a grin I knew meant he was probably thinking something I wouldn’t agree with. Then, thankfully, Hermione went back to her seat, next to Harry.
“So, who do you think will be our next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” Harry asked. This question had now become a tradition to ask this question, since we have never had a DATDA teacher for more than a year.
“Don’t know,” I remarked, “But I hope he’s like Lupin!” I remarked hopefully.
“Well as long as it isn’t like Umbridge, I might be able to live with it. That woman made me appreciate even Quirell!” Hermione replied with feeling. “Come on, Ron, we need to put our robes on, and do a hall patrol.”
“Fine, fine. Be back as soon as possible, Harry,” I said with a wave, after retrieving my robes from my trunk and slipping them over my head. Hermione and I left, and began to walk the halls of the train. “How long do we have to do this for Hermione? I want to get back to Harry as quickly as possible.”
“I know, me too. But we have to do two full circuits of the train every half-hour, if not more, you know that.
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean I have to like it!” I muttered under my breath.
“You’re right, it doesn’t, but you still must do it! It is our duty as prefects,” she responded at her loftiest. I then glared daggers, okay maybe just pins, at her, trying not to get caught at it. “Oh, come on, Ron! I was kidding around, I know it sucks, you know I’d rather be sitting with Harry right now discussing what our new professor may be like!” When we were half done our double circuit Hermione all of a sudden let out a gasp.
“What?!” I asked in concern, hoping she hadn’t seen something like Dementors boarding the train like in their third year.
“Oh! I just remembered reading about our new Dark Arts teacher! I read it in the Daily Prophet, and brought it along to show you guys at the Burrow, but completely forgot! Come on, lets hurry up, I can’t remember what it said, I was distracted,” she sounded immensely annoyed that she couldn’t remember something she had read. So we sped walked out prefect circuit, and rushed back to the compartment.
Hermione ran through the door, and pulled down her trunk in excitement, startling Harry, who had gotten in to his robes and was lounging on the purple upholstered seats reading The Duties of Aurors. “What, in the world, is going on?” he asked me in surprise.
“Hermione just remembered reading an article in the Daily Prophet about our new professor, and can’t remember what it said. It’s then end of the world!” I answered with a smile at Harry, who grinned back, while Hermione glared at me, her eyes flashing attractively, erm, I mean angrily, that right, angrily!
“Here I have it, now I remember! Read it,” she commanded imperiously, shoving the paper at Harry. I sat down next to him and began to read.
New Teacher at Hogwarts:
Will the infamous jinx continue?
Hogwarts has employed a new teacher, for the vacant position, as teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts. This position was recently vacated by one ex-professor Dolores Jane Umbridge, whom also happened to hold a prominent position in Ministry staff, who has been admitted to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries after being abducted by a band of wild centaurs in, what has been aptly named, Hogwart’s Forbidden Forest (for this story check the front page of June twelfths edition of The Daily Prophet).
The teacher who shall be filling the vacant, and rumored to be jinxed, position shall be one Dr. Mawkishchurchly.
“Mawkishchurchly? What kind of name is that? Are those actual words? What do they mean?” I asked, looking at Hermione.
“Well ‘mawkish’ means overly sentimental, and ‘churchly’ means worshipful, or from a church. But that has no precedence,” she remarked in an annoyed tone, “Just read, Ron.” So, as the Omnipotent (hey! I didn’t know I knew that word!) One had suggested, O.K. ordered, I looked back at the paper and continued on.
Unlike most of the teachers employed by Hogwart’s headmaster, Aldus Dumbledore, has previously employed for this position, Dr. Mawkishchurchly has nothing at all for anyone to object about. She has achieved a doctorate in education from the muggle college of Cambridge, and has studied The Dark Arts intensely for rat least ten years.
The only thing that can be discovered that could at all soil her record is the fact the she has married a muggle, whom she met while studying at Cambridge for her doctorate. It must be reported that the only teacher that has filled this position in the last ten years who could rival her knowledge of the dangerous animals of the wizarding world, from both the wizard and muggle point of view, is Professor Remus Lupin, but that is not surprising.
“So, we get a educational doctor for a teacher, that’s not good,” Harry mumbled.
“Why? That means they know how to teach!” Hermione remarked, confused.
“No, it means they took classes on how to teach classes, not that they will be good teacher. No teacher I have ever had who was a doctor of education was interesting. They are usually drones,” Harry said all of this very quickly.
“Oh, come on, Harry they couldn’t be that bad! They’re trained professionals! Anyway, they have to have known what they were talking about!”
“No, because they spent all their time studying teaching, to no avail I might add, and not on the subject they’re teaching!”
“It doesn’t matter,” I remarked glumly, “We’re stuck with her either way. At least we know that she tolerates muggles.” I sighed, resigned to our fate.
Hermione then tossed her hair in a way that fascinated me, and I just sat there staring at her, my whole mind focused on how she looked, sitting there by the window smiling, with her eyes shining. When she noticed my staring at her, I quickly turned it into a glare, hoping she hadn’t noticed, wondering what the hell came over me.
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