Nox

Chapter 6 - Hermione's Plan

It was a fine Saturday morning. The sun was shining up in the sky, warming the green grass in the lawns around Hogwarts castle; which was washed clean by the rain that subsided only a few hours before. The air was still cool, and strong winds blew at the leaves on the trees in the Forbidden Forest, and causing ripples in the surface of the lake. Birds were singing merrily up on treetops. One grey cat that belonged to a third year Ravenclaw was lying in a safe spot on the grounds, bathing in the warm rays of light. All the grey clouds had disappeared, leaving instead, a clear sky as blue as the ocean. The atmosphere on the grounds was very peaceful and serene.

But nobody cared.

Every Hogwarts student from the bravest Gryffindor to the smartest Ravenclaw, was at the Quidditch pitch, either watching the game from the stands, playing it up in the sky, or annoying Professor McGonagall in one case in particular. After an entire school year without Quidditch, the students were all eager to see their players in action, and since the Slytherin-Griffindor matches were always an exciting event, no one wanted to miss the first game of the season.

"--And Warrington has the Quaffle," announced Lee Jordan's voice to the cheering crowd, reaching even the players above. "Who passes it to Gaiman. Now, remember folks, she is replacing Pucey, who successfully managed to cut off his finger, and can't play. But is she good enough to beat the Gryff--"

"Jordan, please focus on the game," McGonagall's irritated voice was heard.

"Right, Professor, sorry!" Lee answered. "Well, then, the Quaffle is back with Warrington, who is now going for the goals. But Gryffindor has a young new Keeper, who will definitely be able to--owww! That's a goal for Slytherin, then. The score is now is 40/30, with Gryffindor still on the lead, but the Slytherins aren't far behind! Now the cute Katie Bell has the Quaffle. Katie, will you go out with me?"

"JORDAN!"

"Alright, alright - Katie passes to Johnson, who is heading towards the goal hoops, she's gonna throw, and--Ouch! That's gotta hurt! A Bludger, right to the ribs, ladies and gentlemen, sent by one of the bloody animals the Slytherins call their Beaters. Anyway, nice save by Spinnet, and--"

Harry was soaring through the sky again, looking intently for the Snitch. He was well aware of Malfoy flying above, somewhere to his right, also looking for the elusive ball. He had traced it flying right below him ten minutes ago, but he blinked and then it was gone again.

Once again, the crowd cheered loudly, and Harry turned around to see what happened. Apparently, Gryffindor scored again. As he turned around to start searching again, a tiny glint flashed in front him. The Golden Snitch was hovering on the left hand side of the pitch, not so far below him. He turned to Malfoy - the other boy didn't see it yet, this was his chance. He started flying directly towards the Snitch, vaguely aware of Lee Jordan mentioning him, and all eyes turning on him as he flew. He could sense Malfoy not far behind, and urged his broom.

"Look out!!" Lee yelled suddenly, but it was only a second after that Harry could comprehend the words that a Bludger hit him, right in the face, and then the other one - at his side.

"Ow!" he called in agony, stopping midair. Malfoy collided with him, only mildly though, for he probably managed to brake in time.

Harry shoved the Bludgers aside, but with all the commotion, the Snitch disappeared again. He turned around, rubbing his sore face, looking once more for the Snitch.

The game was pretty quiet for a while. Some goals were made; some were stopped; now Slytherin was on the lead. Harry was anxious to find the Snitch and get this bloody game over with. He turned around with his broom, flying in the other direction, and again, he spotted the Snitch not far by. He looked around at Malfoy, who obviously saw the Snitch too, for he was speeding up in that direction. Harry immediately urged his broom towards the golden ball. Malfoy reached him; they were now diving neck to neck.

"Looks like the Seekers spotted the Snitch," announced Lee Jordan's voice, and Harry could feel hundreds of eyes turn to him.

The blood was pounding in his ears. 'Come on, come on!' he repeated in his head. 'Come on!' He was clutching the broom handle so hard that he was sure it would leave a mark. A Bludger passed by him, and he barely managed to dodge it. He thought that the other one must have hit Malfoy, because the Slytherin groaned and wavered a bit, but kept on flying. They were so close to the Snitch, Harry could feel it in his hand. 'Come on!' he urged his broom just a little faster. His heart surely would burst any second.

Then he did it. His hand wrapped around the little ball, and he could feel the tiny wings flutter against his hand. Emerging from his dive, Harry sighed with relief. He won!

"The score is 240/100!" screamed Lee Jordan, jumping up and down. "Gryffindor wins!!"

The crowd was cheering so loudly. Harry swept a wide grin at them. Then suddenly he felt something hit him square in the chest. A Bludger. His face screwed up in pain, and his hand still clutched tightly on the Snitch, he landed quickly on the ground. His teammates also landed beside him, George emerging from his winning spin around the pitch.

"You ok, Harry?" asked him Angelina from the growing crowd of celebrating Gryffindors.

"Fine," Harry said, rubbing his ribs.

She smiled at him. "Great catch!" she said. But then she was dragged away by Katie Bell.

"Harry!!" Hermione and Ron jumped at him, hugging him tightly.

"Aw! Don't do that!" said Harry sharply, backing away and gripping his ribs.

"Sorry," Hermione said. "You should go to Madam Pomfrey about that."

"Yeah.... I'm fine...." Harry said, glaring at Goyle, who apparently was the one to send that Bludger at him, for Madam Hooch was shouting at him. He spotted Malfoy, who was also being yelled at, by his Captain, for not winning, Harry presumed.

~*~*~

"Great game everyone!" George said, as they were all about to leave the Locker room. "It wasn't easy, but we won, and I'm very proud of you all," he made as if he were wiping away a stray tear. "From this week we practice two or three times a week. Gotta stay fit for the game against Hufflepuff."

"George, that's three months away!" exclaimed Katie.

"That's right! They have almost a whole new team and we've got to be ready."

The team sighed, as they left the Locker room, everyone else already got back to the castle, celebrating their first win of the year. Once in the castle, Harry parted from his team, and went to the Hospital Wing; where, to his surprise, sitting on a bed was--

"Malfoy?"

"If it isn't Saint Potter," Malfoy acknowledged him with resentment.

Malfoy had his hand clutching at the side of his neck, where Harry could clearly see a purple bruise showing from underneath. Bludger, he thought. Malfoy was hit by a Bludger when they were diving for the Snitch. His other hand was trailing on the white covers on the bed, his silvery blond hair lightly falling to his face.

Harry stepped in, and looked around - Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen. Only Malfoy and himself occupied the room. Sitting down on a chair, he turned his attention to the Slytherin again.

"Nice game," he cracked.

Malfoy turned to look at him again, with a cold air, "I'm going to beat you next time, Potter."

A smirk twisted the sides of Harry's mouth. "Like you could ever beat me. Face it, Malfoy, I'm just better than you."

Malfoy snorted. Harry was satisfied to see his face twist somewhat with anger. Harry thought he was about to say something, but he didn't. Narrowing his eyes he turned to look at the bed again.

"You're not good enough to be that arrogant," Malfoy said finally.

"Mr. Malfoy--!" Harry startled, and looked up to see Madam Pomfrey coming out of her office. "Here," she said, attending his neck, "this will help you." She spread some green ointment on the bruise, and Malfoy flinched. "Now wait a few minutes, and you'll be as good as ever. I can't believe they're letting you children play such dangerous games. Now, swallow this." She pulled a small vial out of a pocket and poured its contents into Malfoy's mouth. Malfoy looked a bit greenish, but swallowed anyway.

Then she turned around and spotted Harry. "You," she said. "What is it now?"

"My ribcage," Harry choked, putting his hand on the sore spot. "Bludger."

Sighing, she turned to him, "Let me see, now. Take off your sweater." Harry hesitated, but she urged him, "Come on, come on now!"

Glaring at Malfoy, who was still staring at the bed, Harry took off his sweater, shivering in the chilly air, and then from Madam Pomfrey's cold hands, checking his broken ribs. Then Madam Pomfrey disappeared for a second, leaving Harry to look grudging at the floor, while shaking from the cold. She was back a second later stabbing her wand at Harry's ribs, muttering an incantation.

Instantly Harry could feel his ribs growing into shape, attaching themselves together. Warmth spread throughout his body - starting from the point where Madam Pomfrey's wand touched it. He shot her a greatful smile, as he already felt much better.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy," she turned back to Malfoy "How are you feeling?" she cleared the ointment, which by now had turned yellow, with a wave of her wand, revealing clear skin.

"I'm fine."

"Good, then you may leave now. You too, Potter," she glared at Harry, who had just finished pulling on his sweater.

They both left at the same time.

Before departuring, Malfoy turned to Harry and drawled, "Next time I'll beat you. Mark my words, Potter."

Harry stayed there for a moment, glaring at Malfoy's retreating form.

"You can't win," he said quietly. "You won't."

~*~*~

Draco was lying on his bed, his face turned to the roof of his hangings. He was thinking about Potter. Damn Potter, he always had to win! He, himself, was a great flyer, Father always told him so. But Potter had to ruin that for him as well. Draco hated everything about him - from his chip shoes to that damn scar on his forehead. He didn't see at all why the Dark Lord would want anything to do with Potter; he should have killed him last year when he had the chance.

Potter had some nerve to refuse the Dark Lord's proposal. How could he ever think he was better than it? How could he think he can win this war? This was not a stupid Quidditch game. Potter was maybe lucky a few times, but his luck will run out eventually. Just then, when his luck will run out, Draco will be waiting for him around the corner. He will give the oh-so-mighty Harry Potter to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord will be pleased with him, and Father will be pleased as well. Draco smirked.

The door to his dormitory flung open, and in came the sound of shuffling feet.

"Draco?" Goyle's thick voice was heard. "Are you coming to dinner?"

"Yes, yes..." Draco got out of his bad and followed his crony.

They entered the Great Hall, which was already filled with chattering students. Draco sat down between Crabb and Goyle, and stared at the food on the table. Slowly, he extended his hand and grabbed a plate containing some food or another; he didn't really care.

He looked up at the Gryffindor Table, and saw Potter sitting there, speaking merrily to his Weasel friend. Some random Gryffindor that passed by him stopped to congratulate him for the game. Potter laughed at something she said, then he looked up and his eyes caught Draco's. The smile that was on Potter's lips stayed just a mere second as he looked at Draco, until his brain caught up with his eyes and he frowned.

'Potter,' Draco thought, returning to his food. 'Why do you always have to get yourself into these messes?'

~*~*~

"So, we all agree?"

Hermione looked around at everyone smiling, satisfied. Hanna Abott nodded, returning her smile, next to her Angelina Johnson also nodded. Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet were whispering something. Cho Chang nodded, to her right; Padma Patil was trying to convince her twin - Parvati to agree, with the help of Lavender Brown. Susan Bones, Sarah Stebbins and Eloise Midgen from Hufflepuff all looked a bit relieved. In general, there was an air of agreement.

"If this is all, then this meeting is adjourned. We'll start with the plan on Monday, and the next meeting is next week, here, at the same time."

With that everyone got up chattering, all going back to their respective Houses. Hermione stayed a bit behind, gathering her parchment sheets.

It had been their second meeting so far, and it seemed like things were going the right way. They were planning to rebel against Professor Benton's sexist ways; since there was no point in being at his class, they wouldn't go at all.

She talked around to girls from other Houses, only fifth, sixth and seventh years for now, and they decided to group together. Their now free time will be devoted to actual studying of Defense Against the Dark Arts. And the next stage, if everything goes as planned, will be to form a petition, which they will give to Professor McGonagall, demanding to learn just like the boys do.

She smiled to herself. They'll show Professor Benton. They can be just as good.

~*~*~

"Harry?" said a small voice.

Harry looked up from his Quidditch Through the Ages to see Hermione standing in front of him.

"Could I speak to you?"

"Sure," Harry said, putting the book aside, and moving to make room for Hermione to sit beside him. "What about?"

She took the seat, sighing.

"Harry," her brown eyes met his, trying to tell him something without words. "Did you think about that heir-of-Gryffindor-business?"

He laughed slightly.

"What's to think about? I couldn't change it, even if I wanted to."

"True, but, Harry, did you ever stop to think about the consequences? Do you know what that means?"

"I do," he answered quietly, averting his eyes from hers.

"You'll have to fight You-Know-Who," she said flatly. "Do you think you can handle it?"

Harry sighed and returned his gaze to her. "What does it matter? It's inevitable - It will happen whether I'm up to it or not."

"Even though, Harry, you can't go into war unprepared."

"What else is there to do?"

"Anything, everything you can. You should talk to Dumbledore."

"I will, I promise," he said, and smiled at her. He stood up, taking his book. "I think I'll go to sleep now." Stretching, he yawned her a good night.

"I just don't want to see you dead," she whispered after him, sighing.

~*~*~

It was three weeks later that found Hermione in Dumbledore's office. Her plan had worked better than she expected - no one wanted to be the only girl to come to class, and so, as word spread around, almost all of them participated in the plan. Tutoring each other was a good idea, as Hermione learned from their meetings; they all very much appreciated it.

The plan had also caught the Headmaster's eye, and he requested that Hermione would meet with him in his office. Hermione immediately called up an urgent meeting, where they formed the petition, which she was clutching in her hand right now.

She handed the Headmaster said petition, her hand shaking just a bit. The old wizard scanned it from behind his half moon spectacles, and then he smiled at her.

"Very well," he said, and opened one of the drawers in his desk. "Miss Granger, could I offer you sherbet lemon?"

She looked him square in the eye, considering. "I would like one very much," she said.

After an hour or so they reached an agreement.

"I can't believe you would let someone like that teach us," Hermione took a sip off her tea.

"Dear child, you can't choose whom to be raised by, and unfortunately Charles Benton was raised by his bitter, old fashioned father."

"Yet..."

"He was a brilliant student. Ravenclaw, graduated with twelve OWL's." He looked thoughtful for a minute, and then perked up, as if suddenly remembering that Hermione was there. "You know what I heard?" he said, his eyes twinkling. "Some people seem to believe that the position of the Defense against the Dark Arts Professor is cursed."

"Yeah..." Hermione sighed. She got to her feet, smiling somewhat bitterly. "It was nice doing business with you, sir."

Dumbledore got to his feet as well, and shook her hand. "As well, Miss Granger."

She left his office with a wonderful feeling. The headmaster had agreed to have a talk with Professor Benton. He promised that the girls would get back to fully studying. Hermione promised that all the girls would show up to classes. Maybe she'll be able to make Professor Benton see things the right way.