It's Never Two-Sided

Chapter Eight: Eight Compartments to a Car (and I picked THIS One!)

It was finally September first, and Halle was sitting on the couch in the Weasleys' living room, watching as the chaos unfolded. Fred and George were 'helping' Ron, since they didn't have anything of their own to pack, as they were no longer attending Hogwarts. Needless to say, as a consequence Ron was behind everyone else. Not that Ginny was much further; the twins had gotten to her the night before.

Halle had all her things packed and ready to go; of course, the fact that she'd never really unpacked was a big help. She would have loved to assist any of the others, but she'd been told by Molly to 'just sit down and relax while I get to those boys.'

So she sat. And put her feet up on her trunk. And jumped nearly a metre when the couch sneezed*.

“What in Melin's name?”

“What happened?” Mr. Weasley asked, walking into the room with an arm-full of dishes that had been collecting dust in Ron's room.

“The couch just sneezed!” Halle squeaked.

“Oh, that's just Fuddles, our old cat. He used to climb through the hole in the back to sleep inside. Now he's dead, but his ghost still likes the couch best,” he explained, then continued into the kitchen to dump the plates in the sink.

“Oh,” Halle replied, unsure of what else to say. It was okay, though, as Ron and Hermione finally drug his trunk down into the living room.

“Oh, wait!” cried George, behind them. “You forgot—”

“—to put in your clock!” Fred finished, waving it.

“I don't have a clock!” Ron shouted back. “And if you try one more—”

“Oh, good, we're all ready!” Mr. Weasley interrupted. “Now, into the floo, everyone!”

“But what about our trunks?” asked Hermione, slightly breathless.

“Oh! I'll just shrink them now, and unshrink them when we get there,” he said, doing so.

And then Hedwig flew in, chased by Pigwidgeon, and both landed on the couch to peck and screech at each other.
The couch started hissing, and jumped.

~*~

They made it to Platform 9¾ in time—just barely, but this time there was no ward on the wall to keep Halle out, and everything went smoothly from there. The twins sold more than a few of their standard tricks while Molly was distracted unshrinking the four students' trunks, and casting Featherweight charms on them (the trunks, not the kids), and kissing them goodbye, and warning them to keep out of trouble, and to keep an eye on Ginny, and then the whistle shrilled and she kissed them all again and they ran to get on board before the train left, waving to the twins, who slipped them all a few extra tricks and waved and said to come up with some good pranks to keep up the tradition.

And finally the train started moving. Off to Hogwarts at last.

~*~

Several hours later Halle sat, drinking tea and bored to tears, in what was apparently the first meeting of the Slug Club. Ginny was there too, but as it was an invite-only gathering, she was the only person Halle recognized. Not that she was paying attention, but none caught her eye as a student she knew.

So Halle sat and listened to the small talk, occasionally answering a question and trying her best not to fiddle with the Disillusioned fluffy thing permanently attached to her ear, until she was sick of it and finally managed to slip away underneath her invisibility cloak and went in search of her friends.

~*~

She found Malfoy first. Headed straight for her, in fact. She quickly ducked into a compartment, but as soon as she was inside, she realized it was his, and it was too late to run back out. So, she did the only thing she could—she climbed up into the baggage rail. Malfoy entered and sat almost directly under her, and his friends followed not ten seconds later.

Merlin, would Malfoy ever learn? Halle asked herself as he continued to ramble on about some 'special job' he had for 'a certain... friend.'

Of course, she thought, he won't if he never realizes he's being watched.

She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

~*~

She was still debating that point to herself when Malfoy's entourage decided it was time to go get lunch off the trolley. The blond nodded and rose, then stopped at the door and told them to go on ahead. Pansy gave him an assessing look, then nodded and led the rest of the Slytherins on.

Malfoy sighed, then turned to where Halle was hiding and grabbed.

Halle grabbed back.

Malfoy pulled.

Halle fell on top of him.

What exactly happened after that Halle couldn't remember, but it was somewhat painful. There were no hexes, as Halle had managed to grab Malfoy's wand and keep a hold of it, but the blows weren't much less painful. Then the compartment door opened and Halle fell backwards, grabbing the back of Malfoy's robes to keep her balance. There was scrambling, and they ended up in the hall. Malfoy managed to get his wand back, and Halle pushed his back, turning and propelling him forwards down the hall. Malfoy turned to hex her, and found himself face-to-point with Ron's wand.

“You should know better than to attack a lady,” Ron said.

“I see no lady, and I was merely protecting my privacy,” Malfoy retorted. “You should understand whose honour is in question; or has your proximity to the Mudblood tainted your judgement? Merlin knows it's ruined your tastes.”

Ron growled, but Hermione appeared from behind Halle and grabbed his wrist before he could hex the blond.

“Watch yourself, Malfoy,” she said, keeping a firm grip on her boyfriend. “I may not always be here to save you.”

Malfoy sneered, then turned and strode down to enter another compartment. Hermione sighed.

“What did you do this time, Halle?”

“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Halle replied, searching the floor for her invisibility cloak. She brushed it with her knuckles and was about to grab it when she noticed her palm. It was covered in blood. There had been no skin broken in the fight, and she was sure Malfoy hadn't been spitting blood. Then she remembered; that was the hand that had grabbed the back of his robes and pushed him away once they were in the hall. She picked up the cloak and folded it, carefully avoiding getting any of the fresh blood on it. She turned back to her friends trying her best winning smile, and watched it fail miserably on Hermione.

“Why don't I believe that?” the bushy-haired girl asked.

“Come on, 'Mione! I didn't do anything to him, I swear! Until he attacked me, that is...”

Ron and her shared a sympathetic look, while Hermione continued to glare.

“Look, guys, I'd love to continue this, but I really need to use the loo,” she said, hoping that would cover her anxiousness. “Please?”

“Oh, fine; but I expect you to find us afterwards!” Hermione huffed. Halle smiled at her and turned to hurry off.

“Hey, what's that in your hand?” Ron asked.

Halle quickly pulled both her hands in front of her, unsure which he was referring to—the one with the blood, or the one with the invisibility cloak.

“Girl stuff!” she called back, hoping that would put him off.

“What—” he started to ask, but was apparently stopped by Hermione.

Halle thanked Merlin and stuffed the cloak under her arm to open the door to the girl's restroom.

~*~

It was a small restroom, for all they were on a Wizarding train, and only allowed for one occupant at a time. Halle locked the door and tossed the folded cloak into the corner. She went to the sink and turned the water on, lamenting that she couldn't keep the blood as she was sure it could come in handy. Of course, Blood Magic was illegal, and the only spell Halle knew was the one for the Blood Notes—

Halle stared at her hand, letting the tap run. The Blood Notes. Did she have paper? Searching her pockets, she found the stack of notecards Hermione'd given her and she'd planned to make a card house out of. She pulled out a handful, and started wiping her fingers on them. She wasn't sure of the amount of blood needed to make them work, but it was better safe than sorry.

Once her hand was officially devoid of useful blood, Halle fanned the cards for a minute to get them dry, and put them in her opposite pocket. She then washed her hands, dried them, picked up her invisibility cloak, and opened the door.

Or at least she tried to. The door wouldn't budge.

******

*Please note that this has happened to the author, during the production of this chapter, actually, and is not, in fact, a figment of her imagination. Thank you.