TortoiseShell
Star
- Joined
- Dec 21, 2009
The sun was setting down when the Order of the Phoenix set out on a new mission. As always, the seemingly inexistent 12th Place on Grimauld Street was pumping with life, last second preparations being made, last words exchanged in case some never returned. The situation was getting completely out of hand. Dementors attacked muggles, not that anyone actually cared much for Harryâs cousin, the Ministry of Magic refused to acknowledge the return of Voldemord despite all the signs and the Order of the Phoenix had to be restored. In a sense, it was both an honour and a curse to be part of it.
In the entrance, Kreacher mumbled something about his hopes that none of them would come back alive, only to receive a kick from the annoyed Ron. In all honesty, despite the encouraging smiles on everyoneâs faces, people were terrified of what would happen if they were to fail. Little by little, their missions helped out both the magic and the mugglesâ worlds without them even knowing, yet the price was incredibly high. Thankfully there had been no casualties thus far, only Hermioneâs unfortunate accident with her broom that resulted in her breaking her ankle. Broken bones were never too much of a problem though, and it would take a couple of days for the potion to work and the bone to be as good as new if not better.
An elbow pressed against the cabinet at the entrance for support, Hermione offered her best friends a smile. âHarry, Ron, please be careful,â she implored as the two boys pulled her into a group hug. She pressed her forehead against Ronâs one with a smile for a second before kissing Harryâs cheek. The thought that she wouldnât be helping them was unbearable, but at least she wouldnât be slowing them down with her injuries. Swallowing back her tears, the young woman nodded and the last goodbyes were exchanged. One by one the Order teleported, causing a choked sob to escape Hermioneâs lips when Ron waved goodbye with a goofy smile and disappeared in a puff of smoke. She exhaled and shook her head, looking around. There was no way she would let Professor Snape know what she was going through, nor show a sign of weakness.
Despite the fact that the Order invited him in, he was Hogwartsâ most hated professor, especially when it came to Gryffindor. She didnât hold things against him, but they werenât exactly having tea parties and going shopping together either. During the stay at Grimauld Street she realized that he wasnât as awful a person as he let on back in the potions class and came to talk to him without having to fight a snarl. Sighing softly, she folded one of her legs at the knee, hopping around. Kreacher let out a happy snicker and ran past her, off to polish some of his previous ownerâs things. Despite all her love for his kind, she hated the old elf. There was absolutely nothing in him that reminded her of the adorable Dobby.
Shaking her head, the eighteen year old beauty struggle to advance through the old house, every step accompanied with a creaking sound that made her fear for her life. Hopping along, she paused in front of an old mirror to examine the absence or presence of tear stains on her face. Thankfully the ivory skin was nowhere close to being puffy after a night of whining and the beautiful hazel eyes were as large and innocent looking as always. It felt odd to be in muggle clothes at that point â she was used to the gown they were forced to wear at Hogwarts. Her curvy hips and slim legs were tightly hugged by a pair of washed out jeans ripped on her knees and next to the pockets and a tight white V neck sweater showed just how slim she was while at the same time offering a glimpse of her firm C cup that grew considerably over the summer. Her hair also grew out, falling down to her mid back in shaggy waves with lighter streaks in them, and she was even wearing a hint of makeup â some mascara and a touch of blush. Despite the circumstances, she looked better than ever.
It was perhaps for that reason that Ron suddenly started acting more affectionate toward her, and she thought their relationship could end up leading somewhere despite the fact that she was a little tired of his games. Perhaps they werenât even games, at times Ron just acted like a child while she, intelligent and mature, acted like a woman.
Shaking her head, Hermione continued down the hall, trying to figure out what Snape was doing. The only reason he was left behind was to look after her and make sure her bone healed right. Instead he was doing God knew what. âProfessor?â She called out, instead receiving a happy meowing on behalf of Crookshanks who came running to rub up against her. âCrookshanks,â she groaned in exasperation, nudging the cat with her foot. âNot the right time,â she shook her head only to receive an offended sound before the cat proudly walked off, dismissing the owner.
âProfessor Snape, could you help me out?â She called out again, leaning up against the wall.
In the entrance, Kreacher mumbled something about his hopes that none of them would come back alive, only to receive a kick from the annoyed Ron. In all honesty, despite the encouraging smiles on everyoneâs faces, people were terrified of what would happen if they were to fail. Little by little, their missions helped out both the magic and the mugglesâ worlds without them even knowing, yet the price was incredibly high. Thankfully there had been no casualties thus far, only Hermioneâs unfortunate accident with her broom that resulted in her breaking her ankle. Broken bones were never too much of a problem though, and it would take a couple of days for the potion to work and the bone to be as good as new if not better.
An elbow pressed against the cabinet at the entrance for support, Hermione offered her best friends a smile. âHarry, Ron, please be careful,â she implored as the two boys pulled her into a group hug. She pressed her forehead against Ronâs one with a smile for a second before kissing Harryâs cheek. The thought that she wouldnât be helping them was unbearable, but at least she wouldnât be slowing them down with her injuries. Swallowing back her tears, the young woman nodded and the last goodbyes were exchanged. One by one the Order teleported, causing a choked sob to escape Hermioneâs lips when Ron waved goodbye with a goofy smile and disappeared in a puff of smoke. She exhaled and shook her head, looking around. There was no way she would let Professor Snape know what she was going through, nor show a sign of weakness.
Despite the fact that the Order invited him in, he was Hogwartsâ most hated professor, especially when it came to Gryffindor. She didnât hold things against him, but they werenât exactly having tea parties and going shopping together either. During the stay at Grimauld Street she realized that he wasnât as awful a person as he let on back in the potions class and came to talk to him without having to fight a snarl. Sighing softly, she folded one of her legs at the knee, hopping around. Kreacher let out a happy snicker and ran past her, off to polish some of his previous ownerâs things. Despite all her love for his kind, she hated the old elf. There was absolutely nothing in him that reminded her of the adorable Dobby.
Shaking her head, the eighteen year old beauty struggle to advance through the old house, every step accompanied with a creaking sound that made her fear for her life. Hopping along, she paused in front of an old mirror to examine the absence or presence of tear stains on her face. Thankfully the ivory skin was nowhere close to being puffy after a night of whining and the beautiful hazel eyes were as large and innocent looking as always. It felt odd to be in muggle clothes at that point â she was used to the gown they were forced to wear at Hogwarts. Her curvy hips and slim legs were tightly hugged by a pair of washed out jeans ripped on her knees and next to the pockets and a tight white V neck sweater showed just how slim she was while at the same time offering a glimpse of her firm C cup that grew considerably over the summer. Her hair also grew out, falling down to her mid back in shaggy waves with lighter streaks in them, and she was even wearing a hint of makeup â some mascara and a touch of blush. Despite the circumstances, she looked better than ever.
It was perhaps for that reason that Ron suddenly started acting more affectionate toward her, and she thought their relationship could end up leading somewhere despite the fact that she was a little tired of his games. Perhaps they werenât even games, at times Ron just acted like a child while she, intelligent and mature, acted like a woman.
Shaking her head, Hermione continued down the hall, trying to figure out what Snape was doing. The only reason he was left behind was to look after her and make sure her bone healed right. Instead he was doing God knew what. âProfessor?â She called out, instead receiving a happy meowing on behalf of Crookshanks who came running to rub up against her. âCrookshanks,â she groaned in exasperation, nudging the cat with her foot. âNot the right time,â she shook her head only to receive an offended sound before the cat proudly walked off, dismissing the owner.
âProfessor Snape, could you help me out?â She called out again, leaning up against the wall.