UnExpected

Chapter 18

Hogsmeade weekend. A joyous event every Hogwarts student looks forward to, but only those with permission, and of a certain age and school year, were allowed to go. The halls were filled with cheery, excited voices. The very first visit of the year was always the best. Lined up at the entrance, they all waited for Filch to check them off his list before they were allowed to go into the bright and windy morning. 


"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. "The Three Broomsticks?"


 The Trio were currently making their way toward the outskirts of Hogsmeade Village, to a meeting Harry was still unsure about, and following Hermione's footsteps to wherever that may lead.

"Oh, no. It's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us at the Hogs Head, the other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit...you know...dodgy...but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard," she answered plainly.

They finally arrived at a small inn with a beaten wooden sign of a boar's severed head, leaking blood on the cloth around it, creaking in the wind. Lovely. Just the stuff dreams were made of.

"Well," Hermione breathed deeply as they hesitated at the entrance. "Come on then."

Walking into the place, Harry immediately scrunched up his nose. No, wait, this is the stuff dreams are made of. The floor, tables, chairs, and even the windows were heavily coated with so much grime that it made Grimmauld Place look like a hospital. The only light came from short stubby candles sitting on tabletops. Seeing as the windows had dirt passed to them. The floor beneath their feet was so heavy with filth that its stones lay near invisible. And to make matters worse there was some kind of a goat stench floating around in the air.

"Lovely spot," Ron dryly commented.

"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered, his eyes sweeping over the place. Surprised when they landed on a small blonde sitting near the bar.

"What she doing here?" Ron spat, when he noticed the girl as well.

There Buffy was, sitting casually at an empty table with a book in her hands and a butterbeer in front of her. Not giving their presence in the room any attention, which bothered Harry, seeing as he was always painfully aware of hers.

"Maybe she's here for the meeting," Harry responded. A tiny flicker of hope rising in his chest.

"Doubt it. Who would invite her?"

"Neville most likely," Hermione answered, entering the conversation.

"Neville?" Harry asked, quickly giving her his attention.

"They seem to be spending a lot of time together."

"Why?" Ron nearly chuckled, finding the idea of it laughable for some reason.

Why indeed. A stinging feeling rose in Harry's chest. His green eyes narrowing slightly at the blonde girl ahead of him.

"Studying, I suppose. I see them in the library every Saturday morning, sometimes even during the week."

"Alone?" Harry asked, forcing his tone to remain natural.

"Yeah. I think she's been helping him with Potions. He's been getting better at it," she shrugged off.

"So, you think he might've asked her?"

"I'm not sure. He didn't tell me he did, so I don't know."

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Ron said, making his way over to their subject of conversation.