Bucolic- RBR Book 3

Bucolic || 12

Chapter 12: A Christmas Conundrum

The day had finally arrived- Christmas. When I woke up, with somewhat of a psychotic grin on my face, I realized that this would be my first Christmas that I had ever experienced among my friends, truly. First year everyone hated me around Christmas and I was struggling with problems of my own. Second year, Voldemort had me within his grasp around Christmas, and I had little joy left around the holiday season.

We had all decided to stay with Harry. And though none of us said it out loud, we all knew that we were staying for Harry. He had just found out that his godfather had essentially murdered his parents, one of his friends, and 12 muggles and then broken out of Azkaban to find and kill Harry. It was, rather late understandably, a lot to take in.

"Hermione," I whispered in her ear at exactly six thirty in the morning. "It's Christmas."

"Sod off, Rumor," she grumbled, turning over. A little known fact about Hermione Granger- she did not like to wake up early in the mornings. An evil grin spread across my face. Don't want to toot my own horn, as the muggles say, but the evil smirk runs in my family. I've got it down to a science.

"Ron's been fed some love potion and's about to go make out with Romilda Vane," I said softly, standing up and swinging my body around the door frame. She scrambled out of bed and ran into my arm.

"You tricked me, didn't you," she sighed, not really asking. I giggled.

"Come on, 'Mione, it's Christmas!" I lugged her down the stairs. I had already opened my presents. I was wearing the big blue R Weasley sweater from Mrs. Weasley (which was very comfortable. I had powered through the book Hermione gave me, eaten the ironic chocolate Harry had given me, and stuffed the perfume Ron gave me in my trunk to hopefully sell to some unsuspecting person and then give him the money back. It was really atrocious.

"Fine," She said, collapsing into an arm chair. "Since it's Christmas, will you help me study for Arithmancy?"

"You betcha, bud!" I said, plopping down next to her and grabbing the heavy text book from her arms. And we studied. And studied. Until finally, Hermione stood up, her fluffy cat falling from her lap with a slight hiss.

"I can't do this anymore," she said, picking Crookshanks up. "Let's go pay the boys a visit." I took Crookshanks from her arms, which he dolefully (probably because he wasn't with Hermione) curled up in. He liked me second best, after Hermione. I had always been good at calming him down.

We walked up the stairs, Crookshanks heavy in my arms. He had put on a few pounds since Hermione had started spoiling him. We knocked on the door to find Harry and Ron alone, the others having already gone to breakfast.

"Hermione! Rumor!" Ron yelled, clearly very excited. "You'll never guess what Harry got!" I shrugged and Hermione looked curious.

"What is it?" She asked.

"A Firebolt," Ron whispered, attempting to be mystical. Now Hermione looked skeptical.

"From who?" She asked, raising her eyebrow. Harry shrugged.

"Dunno. It wasn't signed," he said, handing her the broom. She looked at it with worry in her eyes.

"Well, Rumor and I best be going, see you later," Hermione said quickly, grasping my wrist, nearly dislocating my shoulder, and pulling me by my arm down the staircase.

"Hermione..." I said, scared to anger her, "where on earth are we going?"

"Professor McGonagall," She said, picking up her pace before stopping abruptly to look at me. "I think that broom might have been sent by Sirius Black." I thought for a second, and then nodded my head.

"Lead the way."

____

Harry and Ron were down in the common room later that day, checking out the Firebolt. I was being nice to Hermione and helping her study for our upcoming Arithmancy test. All of a sudden, Professor McGonagall burst into the common room and Hermione hurriedly pulled a book over their face. It was upside down, but I didn't have time to say anything. I bid her a rushed goodbye and scampered up the girl's staircase, listing to the conversation.

"Potter, it is to my understanding that you received a broom for Christmas?" She asked innocently. I assumed that Harry handed her the broom.

"And this came with no note?" She asked, the skepticism heavy in her voice. I couldn't hear Harry's answer, but I heard McGonagall's sigh. "I'm sorry, Potter, but I'm going to have to confiscate this."

"C-confiscate it?" I could hear Ron say. "B-but Gryffindor..."

"Mr. Weasley, I hold Mr. Potter's safety above the Quidditch Cup. It is to my belief, in which Ms. Granger shares with me, that this broom may have been sent by Sirius Black," McGonagall said, and I could hear the steam almost pouring out of her nose, as if she was a dragon. "We'll check it for any of the standard hexes, strip it down to check for any other curses..."

"Strip it down?" Ron whimpered.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall snapped before storming out of the common room. I peeked my head out to see them glaring at Hermione, who set her book down.

"What did you do!" Ron yelled at her.

"I- I thought the broom was sent by Sirius Black!" She stuttered, tears filling her eyes.

"You basically just lost Gryffindor the cup!" Ron yelled.

"Well I'm sorry that I look out for my friends safety!" She screamed back at him. I darted out from my hiding spot to comfort her, glaring daggers at Ron.

"Fine. Fine," He said. Hermione stood and ran up the stairs and I turned to Harry and Ron.

"You guys are idiots. I'll talk to you when you see past broomsticks and pets," I snarled before storming after Hermione.