Harry Potter 05 - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

signed, Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it carefully into her bag. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.
    ‘Well, time’s ticking on,’ said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. ‘George, Lee and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we’ll be seeing you all later.’
    In twos and threes the rest of the group took their leave, too. Cho made rather a business of fastening the catch on her bag before leaving, her long dark curtain of hair swinging forwards to hide her face, but her friend stood beside her, arms folded, clicking her tongue, so that Cho had little choice but to leave with her. As her friend ushered her through the door, Cho looked back and waved at Harry.
    ‘Well, I think that went quite well,’ said Hermione happily, as she, Harry and Ron walked out of the Hog’s Head into the bright sunlight a few moments later. Harry and Ron were clutching their bottles of Butterbeer.
    ‘That Zacharias bloke’s a wart,’ said Ron, who was glowering after the figure of Smith, just discernible in the distance.
    ‘I don’t like him much, either,’ admitted Hermione, ‘but he overheard me talking to Ernie and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say? But the more people the better really – I mean, Michael Corner and his friends wouldn’t have come if he hadn’t been going out with Ginny –’
    Ron, who had been draining the last few drops from his Butterbeer bottle, gagged and sprayed Butterbeer down his front.
    ‘He’s WHAT?’ spluttered Ron, outraged, his ears now resembling curls of raw beef. ‘She’s going out with – my sister’s going – what d’you mean, Michael Corner?’
    ‘Well, that’s why he and his friends came, I think – well, they’re obviously interested in learning defence, but if Ginny hadn’t told Michael what was going on –’
    ‘When did this – when did she –?’
    ‘They met at the Yule Ball and got together at the end of last year,’ said Hermione composedly. They had turned into the High Street and she paused outside Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop, where there was a handsome display of pheasant feather quills in the window. ‘Hmm … I could do with a new quill.’
    She turned into the shop. Harry and Ron followed her.
    ‘Which one was Michael Corner?’ Ron demanded furiously.
    ‘The dark one,’ said Hermione.
    ‘I didn’t like him,’ said Ron at once.
    ‘Big surprise,’ said Hermione under her breath.
    ‘But,’ said Ron, following Hermione along a row of quills in copper pots, ‘I thought Ginny fancied Harry!’
    Hermione looked at him rather pityingly and shook her head.
    ‘Ginny used to fancy Harry, but she gave up on him months ago. Not that she doesn’t like you, of course,’ she added kindly to Harry while she examined a long black and gold quill.
    Harry, whose head was still full of Cho’s parting wave, did not find this subject quite as interesting as Ron, who was positively quivering with indignation, but it did bring something home to him that until now he had not really registered.
    ‘So that’s why she talks now?’ he asked Hermione. ‘She never used to talk in front of me.’
    ‘Exactly,’ said Hermione. ‘Yes, I think I’ll have this one …’
    She went up to the counter and handed over fifteen Sickles and two Knuts, with Ron still breathing down her neck.
    ‘Ron,’ she said severely as she turned and trod on his feet, ‘this is exactly why Ginny hasn’t told you she’s seeing Michael, she knew you’d take it badly. So don’t harp on about it, for heaven’s sake.’
    ‘What d’you mean? Who’s taking anything badly? I’m not going to harp on about anything …’ Ron continued to chunter under his breath all the way down the street.
    Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry and then said in an undertone, while Ron was still muttering imprecations about Michael Corner, ‘And talking about Michael and Ginny … what about Cho and you?’
    ‘What d’you mean?’ said Harry quickly.
    It was as though boiling water was rising rapidly inside him; a burning sensation that was causing his face to smart in the cold – had he been that obvious?
    ‘Well,’ said Hermione, smiling slightly, ‘she just couldn’t keep her eyes off you, could she?’
    Harry had never before appreciated just how beautiful the village of Hogsmeade was.

 
     
— CHAPTER SEVENTEEN