Courage | Hermione Granger Lesbian Story

Dumbledore's Army

Sitting at the Hufflepuff table, picking at my food, Ernie Macmillan sits on my left, Allison on my right, I sit quietly, plotting over Quidditch practices.

"How's the arm?" She asks over her cereal.

Apparently, Madame Pomfrey can only instantly fix bones that are either broken magically, or crushed playing Quidditch. Seeing as Crabbe did it, I've got to wear a bandage around it for three days so it can constantly soak in... something, I zoned out once I was sure it'd be off before Quidditch practice.

Malfoy hasn't spoken to or come near me since then. More mood swings than my Dad.

"It's alright. Still hurts but I'll cope." I offer a small smile, too drained for anything else.

After the twins found out what went down, a simply unexplainable thing happened. Crabbe and Goyle's tongues became stuck to the roof of their mouths, they suddenly couldn't stop dancing, and their beds were filled to the brim with bugs.

So unexplainable.

Although, I was wondering how they managed to get into the Slytherin dorms - when I asked, they just said "We have our ways, our contacts.". I didn't miss the small look they gave Iris though.

"One more day, right?"

"Yeah, then it's off and back to Quidditch. Umbridge is going to be sitting in."

"Sorry, Umbridge is gonna watch our practice?" Zacharias sits down opposite us, confused.

"Yeah. Cos I'm a young captain, apparently. It's fine, she's more concerned with Harry." I shrug.

"But you hang out with him. He just causes problems."

"I'm... not even gonna touch that one. Do you want something?" Allison interrupts him before he can specify.

"Actually, yes," he starts, "I want to know who your bakcup captain will be if Umbridge kicks you off."

"I'm sure she'll be choosing for me. Might even be you." I shrug.

"I doubt it." But I can see the hope growing in his gaze as he scans me up and down, probably thinking about how easy it'll be to get me gone. I narrow my eyes, and he leaves quickly.

"Little sneak. Hate him." Allison rolls her eyes, angrily stabbing her food.

The day passes almost agonizingly slowly - the arm doesn't even get me out of any work or dreary note-taking, because it's my left. All it means is I look like a fish on land struggling to pick up my satchel.

Finally though, it's over, and I practically run to the Hospital Wing to get the cast removed. As Madame Pomfrey peels it off, the feeling I didn't know I'd lost rushes back up into my arm and I can move it normally again, much to my relief.

Meaning that as Tuesday night dawns, I can get back in the air. Quidditch Practice.

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"Smith, I swear to Merlin if you keep smiling at Umbridge and asking if she wants anything to drink, I'm going to shove you off your broom from fifty feet in the air and trash your funeral." Allison roughly pushes him through the tent flaps as we take a half-way break.

The rest of the teams glares at him, but he remains unbothered. He apparently quite favours himself as the next captain.

Nevertheless, even Umbridge can't deny I'm a decent captain. The team fly fast, play well, and they listen to me. I've been running through specific weaknesses in each player, as oppose to an overall practice course that might not cover everyone. They all have strengths, but they can play all sides if we try.