Torture Hours & Love Empowers

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CHAPTER SIX:

Third Person P.O.V.:

Charlie decided to skip dinner in the Great Hall that night, not wanting to deal with the obvious whispers and accusing looks. The news about his shouting match with Umbridge would have travelled exceptionally fast by now, and he couldn't be bothered with having to explain himself repeatedly.

Rain pounded on the windowpanes as he strode along the empty corridors back to Gryffindor Tower. Charlie felt as though his first day had lasted a week, but he still had a mountain of homework to do before bed. A dull pounding pain was developing in his head, overwhelmed with all that was going on. He glanced out of a rain-washed window at the dark grounds as he turned into the Fat Lady's corridor. There was still no light in Hagrid's cabin.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia," muttered Charlie, before the Fat Lady could ask. The portrait swung open to reveal the hole behind it and he scrambled inside.

The common room was almost empty; nearly everyone was still down at dinner. The room was only occupied by one person in particular, Hermione Granger, who was sitting in her favourite armchair by the fire; Crookshanks curled on her lap like a furry ginger cushion.

Hermione's head turned in her boyfriend's direction immediately upon his entry. Her eyes flashed half-worried, half-relieved as Charlie smiled at her, trying to ease the obvious tensed state that she was overcome with.

"Why aren't you at dinner?" he asked as he moved to sit down onto the couch; Hermione's eyes following him as he did so.

"Because I knew you wouldn't be there after what happened," Hermione responded simply; she knew him too well.

Moving Crookshanks off of her lap onto the floor, Hermione got up and moved to the couch, sitting down on Charlie's lap and cuddling into his chest as his arms wrapped tightly around her. He smiled contently before gazing into the flames, feeling drained and exhausted.

"So," Hermione drawled on in an adorable manner within the crook of Charlie's neck, "what kind of punishment did Umbridge end up giving you?"

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"So," Hermione drawled on in an adorable manner within the crook of Charlie's neck, "what kind of punishment did Umbridge end up giving you?"

"Detention. Every evening this week," Charlie said, slightly amused, shifting his gaze back down to his girlfriend. "And on the first day? I think I've set a new record."

"That's not funny," scolded Hermione, smacking him on the arm. "You could've been expelled."

"My grandfather would never let that happen," shrugged Charlie. "Plus, with me gone, Umbridge's use around here is pretty limited."

"What do you mean?" Hermione said curiously, and Charlie gulped, realizing he probably said too much.

"I just mean that she's obviously here to spy on us," Charlie said, divulging in a half truth. "I'm almost certain that choosing Umbridge to teach is my father's way of keeping tabs on Dumbledore..."

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