The Amonrae Spell

Chapter 5: Just Helping Out

"Ready Harry?" Hermione asked, placing her hand on his shoulder. As a result, he jumped out of his seat.

" 'Mione, you scared the living daylights out of me," Harry breathed out.

"I'm sorry. Well, are you?"

"Ready when you are."

"Great. Where's the clue?"

"Here." He gave her a riddle.

"My favorite. This is logic."

"Good. Find out what it means, will you?"

"Harry, I can help, but you have to do the work yourself."

"But I don't know any logic!" Harry whined.

"About time you learn, don't you think?"

Fleur stepped onto the school gym, where the pool was located.

"Fleur?" Oliver asked surprised, while he lifted weights.

"Oliver! What a pleasant surprise. 'Ere I am, and 'ere you are. 'Ow fantastic," she said in an everyday tone of voice, and took off her shorts, revealing a baby blue bikini.

Oliver almost dropped his weights. She was a vision indeed. Without hesitation, she dived and emerged, all wet. Oliver's eyes were still on her. She leaned against the pool, facing him.

"So, 'ow's life treating you?" she asked.

"I'm good, thank you. How about you? Enjoying Hogwarts?"

"Now I am," she answered seductively.

"Ahem! So, got your clue?"

"I do. "

"Figure it out yet?"

"In 'ze process. Why?"

"Just asking."

"Appreciate your concern. So, tell me Wood, girlfriend?

"No."

"Good. Tell me, what kind of girls do you like?"

"Sorry?" Oliver gave her a puzzled look.

"Do you like French girls, Wood?"

" Don't know. I've never been in a relationship."

"No? Well, don't you 'zink 'zis would be a good time to start one?"

"I don't know what you mean." Oliver was again puzzled.

"Tell you what. Figure 'zat out." She got out of the pool. "'And me 'zat towel, would you?"

Oliver stood up, giving her what she asked for. He cursed under breath; he couldn't stop sweating, and, rest assured, it wasn't for his earlier exercises.

"Merci. I'll see you tonight, Oliver." Fleur smiled at him.

"Tonight?"

"Dinner."

"Oh, sure." He took his own towel, drying up his sweated face.

Fleur tossed her still damp hair and gave him another seductive smile before making her way out.

"A dragon," Hermione muttered to herself.

"I'm sorry, what?" Harry brought his glasses to the bridge of his nose, glancing at his best friend.

" I figured it out. Have you?"

" That's what I was hoping you'd help me out with." Harry gave her a puppy look.

"Fine. I'll give you a clue; Charlie Weasley specializes in them."

"A dragon?"

"You said it, not me."

"Jeez." Harry buried his face in his hands.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just have to figure out how to complete the task now."

"Oh. Well, I brought you some books on the most effective spells. You can check those out. But, if I were you, I'd use a technique that I was familiar with. Something I do well.

Something that nobody can beat me in. When you're done, let me know on what else I can help you with. Now we got to change for dinner," Hermione finished, standing up.

"Thanks 'Mione," he said, taking her hand in his.

"Anytime Harry. I'll see you." She gave his hand a light squeeze and made her way out.

She was gone, leaving Harry with his thoughts. What was the thing which he did so well, that nobody could beat him at? Well, at least he was one step further with Hermione's help. Hermione, what would he do without her?

Chapter 6: Declined Invitation

"Hi, Hermione," Ron greeted her with a smile on his face while she was seated on their usual table at the library.

"Hello Ron," she answered back, but with a distant tone.

"So, this week's the Yule Ball."

"Yes, it is." She continued looking through her books, without even glancing at him.

"I was just wondering if..."

"I'm already going with someone Ron."

"Really? And who is that?" Ron's mood changed dramatically.

"None of your business. Excuse me." Hermione stood up and exited from her favorite place.

Ron continued to glance at her until she was no longer in sight, his arms crossed. Who the hell was the guy who had invited her first?

He ventured off looking for his other best friend, whom he found engaged in conversation with Elizabeth.

"Harry! There you are!" he exclaimed, causing Elizabeth to roll her eyes in annoyance while Harry gave him an 'I'll kill you if you don't leave' look.

"Ron? Can't you see I'm in the middle of a PRIVATE conversation here?" Harry

barked.

"Oh, excuse me Elizabeth," Ron apologized without any intention of really leaving and returned to Harry. "But I have got to talk to you, quick."

"That's all right. We can talk later." Elizabeth gave Harry a polite smile.

"Elizabeth, you don't have to go. I'm sure Ronald here, will be polite enough to let me finish first," Harry said, throwing a fierce look to Ron.

" No, that's okay. You probably have important guy stuff to discuss and I wouldn't want to meddle in. I'll see you at the dance Harry." Elizabeth strolled off.

"Ugh! Look what you did!" Harry screamed at Ron.

"What? The way I see it, you have a date for the Yule Ball," Ron replied.

"What do you want?"

"I have a situation."

"Another one? Why don't you go see Hermione this time? She can give you better advice than I can."

"She is it! I invited her to the dance and she already has a date!"

"She does? Well, good for her."

"Good? How can it be good? Who would invite her anyway?"

"Ron, would you calm down? So she's not going with you to the ball. Big deal.

Find somebody else."

"Yeah, that's it! Maybe Fleur will go with me!"

"No, Ron. I didn't mean..."

"Thanks Harry!" Ron ran through the hallway. Harry sighed. There was no way in a girl like Fleur would go with Ron.

****

"Good afternoon, Oliver." Fleur appeared, leaning on one of the Quidditch hoops.

Oliver stopped what he was doing and glanced at her. She was dressed in jeans and a violet sweater., her hair combed to her waist.

"Knock it off Oliver! She is a student!" his mind reprehended him when his eyes wouldn't move from her body, and he kept picking the Quaffles across the field.

"You know, I kind of like 'ze view from up 'ere," she addressed him seductively, who was leaned down on the grass. At this statement, he stood up straight, clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry Miss Delacour. You wanted something?"

"First of all, call me Fleur. I'm not an old woman."

"Sorry, Fleur. Well?"

"Nozing. I was just curious if you were going to 'ze dance."

"I'm supposed to go if that's what you mean."

"Oh, you are? You 'ave a date yet?"

"No, why?"

"Zinking of inviting somebody?"

"Maybe."

"Like who?"

"Get to the point Fleur."

"I was just wondering if you could do a big, big, favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"Well, as you know, I 'ave to go to 'ze dance, because I am one of 'ze champions."

" Yeah, and?"

"Well, I...it's just so painful," she said, making sure she sounded desperate and like

she was crying, which she certainly wasn't.

"What is?" Oliver gave her his full attention.

"Well, Roger Davies asked me to go wiz 'im."

"He did? Good for you. You should go with him."

" I was going to, but..."

"But?"

"You know, yesterday was 'zat 'orrible Quidditch practice, and...."

"What happened?"

"Some idiot 'it 'im wiz a bludger and 'e 'asn't woken up yet. Madam Pomphrey says it's going to be at least anozer week before 'e wakes up! That means, 'e...isn't going to be able to take me to 'ze dance! What am I to do?" She sniffled in an exaggerated manner and threw herself in his arms.

"Oh, come on Fleur. You'll get another date," he said, trying to calm her down.

" Will I? I 'ardly know anybody 'ere. Unless.... you 'zink you could take me instead?"

"Me? Why me?" he asked, sweating again.

"See? I knew you'd say no! Of course, you'd say 'zat because I'm terribly ugly! There I go again! So pazetic as always!" she screeched, pretending to cry louder, moved away from his embrace, her back facing him.

"I didn't say you were ugly," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. At this gesture she turned around.

"Does 'zat mean you're going to take me?"

"Well, I..."

"Oh, Oliver I love you!" She threw herself at his arms again., leaving him with a puzzled expression.

"You do?"

"What is 'zere not to love about you?" she said, tossing her hair. "I'll see you at

'ze dance." She walked off, moving her hips in the process.

"Not happening," Oliver protested dropping down to the ground.

He had just promised Fleur to take her to the dance. That meant a night of sweating and stammering; things that he couldn't stop doing when he was around her. What was wrong with him? He couldn't be falling for her, could he? No! No way! Women and Quidditch don't mix. And for the time being, he would pick the second choice. Besides, she was a student, a French student. So there was no way on Earth that he could like her.

These thoughts flew through Hermione's mind as well. She had witnessed the whole scene leaned in one of the benches, her arms crossed. She had never seen Oliver like this before.

"My, my. She's smarter than I thought." Hermione made her way towards Oliver. "So, taking Fleur to the dance are you?" she asked him, making Oliver jump from the fright.

"Herm! You heard?"

"More or less, So, I've never seen you like this before."

"What do you mean?"

"Constant sweating and stammering. Not counting the day, which they made you Keeper of the national team of England. Do you like her?"

"Don't be ridiculous Herm. I'm just taking her as a favor."

"So you say. I'll see you Oliver." Hermione headed back inside..

"Heard you declined Ron's invitation." Oliver stopped her.

"That's right. Someone else invited me first." She turned around to face him.

" That would be?"

"Viktor Krum."

"The Russian?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Just asking. He has been looking for you at the library for ages."

"I haven't been in my usual place in the library these past couple of days."

"I know you haven't. Why would that be?"

"I'm just taking care of a promise." She smiled at him as Harry came into her mind.