Incoming Call & One For All

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CHAPTER FOUR:

Third Person P.O.V.:

"It might have been a girl," Hermione suggested, as the core four sat around the common room, wondering about the true identify of the Half-Blood Prince. "I think the handwriting looks more like a girl's than a boy's."

Over the past week of Potions lessons, Harry continued to follow the Half-Blood Prince's instructions wherever they deviated from Libatius Borage's, with the result that by their fourth lesson Slughorn was raving about Harry's abilities, saying that he had rarely taught anyone so talented. Neither Charlie, Ron nor Hermione was delighted by this.

Although Harry had offered to share his book with each of them, Ron had more difficulty deciphering the handwriting than Harry did, and couldn't risk the suspicion of reading aloud. On the other hand, Charlie willing opted out of perfecting Potions, as he was far too stubborn to give Slughorn the opportunity to use it as something to boast about. Hermione, meanwhile, was resolutely plowing on with what she called the "official" instructions, but became increasingly bad-tempered as she yielded poorer results than the Prince's.

"The Half Blood Prince, he was called," Harry pointed out, stifling a chuckle as he brandished the textbook around. "How many girls have been princes?"

Hermione seemed to have no answer to this. She merely scowled and twitched her essay on The Principles of Rematerialization away from Ron, who was trying to read it upside down.

Charlie stretched out on the common room couch, perusing the sight around him as his friends continued to bicker.

He caught sight of Lavender Brown on the other side of the room, staring hopefully back at him, her eyes alit with a flicker of ultimate desire

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He caught sight of Lavender Brown on the other side of the room, staring hopefully back at him, her eyes alit with a flicker of ultimate desire. He gulped uneasily, quickly adverting his eyes towards the watch on his hand. Acting quickly, he stood up and gathered his things.

"Wait, where are you going?" questioned Hermione, looking up at once with a slight frown.

"It's five to nine," Charlie shrugged, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. "I was thinking I'd go see my grandfather before curfew."

"Tell him we said hi," waved Harry, and him, Ron, and Hermione watched Charlie leave through the portrait hole.

Charlie proceeded through deserted corridors, though he had to step hastily behind a statue when Professor Trelawney appeared around a corner, muttering to herself as she shuffled a pack of dirty-looking playing cards, reading them as she walked.

"Two of spades: conflict," she murmured, as she passed the place where Charlie had crouched, hidden. "Seven of spades: an ill omen. Ten of spades: violence. Knave of spades: a dark young man, possibly troubled, one who dislikes the questioner -"

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 | 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿Where stories live. Discover now