Oh So Many Years: Ch. 9 - Just A Little Bit
Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley
Summary:
With Hermione and Harry's friendship mended, and her bond with the twins, strengthening, Hermione finds herself looking up. The only thing left to do is fix Ron's attitude and keep herself from throttling Rita Skeeter the next time she sees her.
Fred and George have found relief in both Hermione's help and her friendship. Unfortunately, as a result they've been neglecting their other friends and someone isn't too shy to point it out to them.
Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW
Author’s Note:
I update every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST)! Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog! xoxo
Masterlist
<< Chapter 8
Oh, no
I'm not the one, oh, you can ignore
I'm not like those you had before
Oh, hell no
“It’s just absolutely ridiculous, right?”
“Are you still on about that?” George asked, his tone laced with practiced boredom as he laid on his back in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. He had somehow come into possession of a quaffle and was repeatedly tossing it in the air and catching it, occasionally passing it to Fred when the mood struck.
“Yes, I am still on about it! How anyone could read this garbage and believe it, I will never know.” Hermione threw the quill she’d been writing with onto the desk, ink blotting across her parchment, and picked up the Daily Prophet once again. An avid reader of the wizarding newspaper, Hermione never gave much thought as to whether the stories of journalist Rita Skeeter were true or not. However, as she stared at the words printed across the page for the hundredth time, she questioned whether the woman had ever written anything factual in her life. Harry had told her about the disastrous interview the night before – Rita Skeeter’s devious smile, the basic lack of attention, her casual yet inappropriate flirtations, and her Quick Note’s Quill scribbling away all the while. Therefore, it hadn’t surprised her when the article portrayed a weepy yet confidently disillusioned Harry Potter pouring his soul out and then boasting on his magical prowess. What did surprise her, though, were the last few sentences.
“…Harry Potter’s close friend, Collin Creevey, has informed us that the young Triwizard participant can regularly be found in the company of a Miss Hermione Granger – a pretty muggle born fourth year. While officially their relationship has not been confirmed, it’s hard to deny the tell-tale signs of young love,” Hermione read, her voice raising to a shout by the end. Folding the paper, she threw it aside once more, this time as far out of her reach as humanly possible. Whirling through the air, the heavy paper made contact with an unsuspecting first year walking by. Hermione winced and gave the boy an embarrassed apology before picking up her wand and cleaning the ink from her assignment. She looked at the contents of her notes thus far and huffed. The words blurred together, her anger resulting in an altogether apathetic state for anything that wasn’t the infuriating article. Turning her head, she glared at Collin Creevey from across the room as he sat in the corner with his brother and a few other younger Gryffindors. They chatted away, playing the perfect role of innocence.
“Hermione—” Harry gave her a pleading look “—could you please just let it go?” He placed a hand gently on her forearm. At that moment, two third year girls walking past, spotted the placement of his hand, and hurried past, whispering and giggling to each other. Harry removed his hand quickly, grimacing. Hermione sighed, taking a moment to think about how this affected not just herself but Harry as well. Whispers and pointing she could deal with but lies were intolerable. It was just so…immoral! However, she imagined all Harry wanted was for all of this to disappear, to forget about it, and to be able to go back to some form of normalcy. She leaned back in her chair. If she could do anything for him at that moment, it would be to do as he asked.
“Alright, I’ll let it go. But don’t think I won’t give this Skeeter woman a piece of my mind when I finally meet her.” She sat forward and began writing out her study guide for transfiguration again.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Harry said in amusement, before turning back to his own work.
Unlike George, Harry and Hermione sat at a table adjacent to the fire accompanied by Fred. Harry was working on an extra paper given to him by Professor Snape after his abysmal duel with Malfoy. Hermione was working on transfiguration, and Fred on his latest product. It was another sweet, similar to their Ton-Tongue Toffee, but ultimately very different. Earlier that night at dinner, Fred and George had ran into the Great Hall flushed with excitement. They pulled her away from the Gryffindor table and into the adjoining corridor, ignoring Hermione’s questions and feeble attempts to pull her wrist from Fred’s grasp. Once out of earshot from their curious peers, they began to bombard her with their latest and greatest idea – Canary Creams. Fred insisted that the idea would be hilarious, a sweet that when eaten, turned the person into a giant canary bird.
Silently, Fred slid his notebook on top of Hermione’s work and pointed to a list of possible wand movements and an incantation to charm the sweets. It really was a tricky thing when you thought about it. Sure, some sweets were already available that caused physical changes to their consumer, but none that she knew performed full form transfiguration. Pairing transfiguration, charms work, and potions was no easy feat. To successfully develop a Canary Cream, they had to produce a lasting charm that utilized transfiguration elements to result in a temporary transformation of the whole body from human to aviary. It was, to put it lightly, difficult.
George had helped early on with the charms aspect of the spell, but now they needed Hermione’s help with the transfiguration part – a subject, lucky for them, she was well versed in. Closely, she surveyed the work and found herself quite impressed. The incantation seemed to be correct and the wand movements as well, except there was just something about them that was…off. Mentally, she visualized the movements and when it finally came to the last movement, she realized the mistake. Dipping her quill into her ink, she crossed off the last tap and replaced it with a flick and then a tap, before sliding the notebook back to him. Fred shook his long ginger hair from his face and assessed the changes she made as Hermione returned to her own work. Looking down at her papers, she tried to find where she left off.
“What’s this for?” Fred whispered. Turning towards him, Hermione was caught off guard to find the boy so close, leaning towards her and pointing at her correction.
Blinking a few times, she answered, “You do want them to be human sized canaries, correct?”
Fred stared at her for a moment, and then back down at the paper before smiling. “Yeah, I suppose we do. I knew there was a reason we asked you to help.”
“If I remember correctly, I volunteered. Should I be regretting that?” Hermione teased.
“Don’t you dare Granger,” responded Fred with a wink. Heat pooled on Hermione’s face and she nervously grinned back, unsure of what to say. Fred spoke again, “Are you sure it will only be temporary?”
“What are you guys working on?” Harry asked. Hermione jumped, pulling back from Fred and the notebook they’d been piled over.
“N-nothing! I’m just helping Fred with his studies. He’s struggling in quite a few of his subjects, so he asked me to tutor him,” she lied. “Isn’t that right Fred?” She turned to him with a sweet smile.
Fred glared back at her, but ultimately cleared his throat and looked to Harry before speaking, “Yeah, I asked Granger to help me. But don’t worry Harry. It’s strictly professional. Wouldn’t want you to think I was trying to steal your girlfriend from you.” He ended his sentence with a cheeky grin. Hermione responded the only way she knew how – by kicking him in the shin under the table.
“Ow!” Fred reached under the table, and rubbing his leg. “Did you just kick me, Granger?” he asked, his long hair falling into his eyes.
“Yes, and you very well deserved it.”
Fred looked to Harry for support but only met his grinning face and a shrug of his shoulders. He then looked to his twin, still lounging on the floor but much more interested in the conversation.
“Don’t look at me, I think you always deserve a good kick in the shin,” said George, chucking the quaffle to his brother. Fred caught it easily.
“Some good friends you are,” Fred grumbled throwing the quaffle back to George before they all let out a few good-humored chuckles.
“I’d say they’re better friends to you than they are to me.” The voice took them by surprise. Looking to the portrait entrance, Hermione saw Ron, having just entered the common room to find the four enjoying themselves without him.
“Do you have a problem, mate?” Harry asked, his voice stony.
“I’m not your mate,” Ron responded, a touch on the dramatic side in Hermione’s opinion.
“Well if you’re not my mate then I guess you can just piss off. Yeah?” added Harry lightly, turning back to his work. Hermione looked between the two, feeling incredibly uncomfortable and unsure of what to do. Ron gave her a nasty glare before turning to his brothers.
“You two can’t possibly believe him, can you?”
“Yeah, we do,” Fred and George answered in unison. George sat up properly, tucking the quaffle under his arm.
“He may be the Boy Who Lived—” started George.
“—but he’s not nearly bright enough to put his name into the goblet,” Fred finished.
“Sorry mate!” the two called over to Harry who merely shrugged, finding no offense in the statement.
“What happened to family loyalty?” Ron asked his older brothers, a hurt expression on his face.
“I think there’s a ‘being a complete prat’ contingency to that concept, brother. Besides, Harry’s family too.” George stood and stretched before tossing the quaffle at Ron, who caught it unenthusiastically.
Ron turned to Hermione now. “Guess I know why you always take Harry’s side. Thought you two would at least have the decency to let me in on the secret. But I guess there’s a lot of things you don’t tell me.”
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but before she could get a word out Ron continued, “Doesn’t matter though, everyone else agrees with me anyways.” With a final glare, he turned and headed towards the boys’ dormitories, ridding himself of the quaffle on the way.
The common room was silent after Ron’s departure. Hermione realized that everyone had stopped to listen in on the dramatic scene. She really wished they hadn’t. One look at Harry and she knew he was wishing the same thing. His shoulders were hitched all the way up to his ears and his face was unnecessarily close to his parchment. The quiet weighed on Hermione like a thick and heavy blanket. She returned to her work, but the more she stared at the pages of her book, the more uncomfortable she became. Every fiber of her being wanted to storm up those stairs and give Ronald a piece of her mind, but she was worried she didn’t have the strength. Then something Fred had said to her in the hospital wing rang clearly in her mind, giving her the strength, she needed: …there’s nothing for you to be afraid of. You’re more badass than I could ever be.
She rose, pushing back her chair. Harry, Fred, and George looked at her.
“If you’ll please excuse me,” she said politely, turning on her heel and heading towards the stairs that led up to the boys’ dormitories. She had only been in Harry and Ron’s room twice before, but she still knew the way. She climbed the spiral stairs in a fury, having no idea what she was about to say, but knowing she needed to say something. Her period of silence with Ronald Weasley had to end. Coming to the dormitory door, she pushed it open, not even bother to knock as anger and determination fueled her actions.
“Bloody hell Hermione!” Ron exclaimed, covering his bare chest. He was standing in the middle of the room clad only in his pants, trousers and shirt strewn aside in a pile, as he uncomfortably shifted. His face and chest were red as a cherry tomato, flushed in embarrassment, but he glared at her all the same. Hermione coughed, caught off guard by his state of undress. She had never seen Ron without his shirt, let alone his trousers. Trying not to focus on the freckles that spattered his chest, the flush that now covered her face, or the strange tug in the pit of her stomach, she pushed past the awkwardness of the situation and continued on with what she originally intended to do. Looking to her left she noticed Neville was also present in the room, confused and uncomfortable. She smiled sweetly at him.
“Neville, would you please excuse Ronald and I for a few minutes?”
The pudgy blonde boy nodded quickly and jumped from his bed, fleeing the room in a full run.
“Hermione, what are you doing in my room?!” Ron asked in a yell.
Hermione took a deep breath. “I’ve come to make peace. To have a heart-to-heart as they say…” Casually but with purpose she strolled further into the room, past Ron, to sit on the edge of his bed.
“Now? While I’m sodding naked?”
Hermione rolled her eyes, starting to feel normalcy return at Ron’s thickness. “Well put some clothes on if it’s so important to you, but yes, now.”
Ron stared at her, frozen where he stood. When he failed to move, she raised her eyebrows and tilted her head insistently, urging him to hurry up. Ron scurried to his trunk and pulled on a pair of striped bottoms and a vibrant orange Chudley Cannon’s shirt, before plodding over to sit next to her on the bed. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, closing himself off to her and the world around him.
“What?” Ron stubbornly asked, avoiding her gaze.
“I think I deserve an apology from you,” said Hermione bluntly.
Ron looked up at her in surprise. “I need to apologize to you?!”
“Yes. You do—” Hermione stayed strong, squaring her shoulders “—Ronald, we have been friends for nearly four years. More importantly you and Harry have been best friends for just as long. Have we once ever lied to you? Deceived you? Betrayed you? Not supported you?”
Ron didn’t answer. Instead he looked down, resting his forehead against his knees.
“No, we haven’t—" she went on “—Now I don’t know what’s exactly been said or not said between you and Harry, and it’s not really my business. All I know is that when you accuse me of not being a good friend to you, it hurts. I’ve done my best to try to support you and Harry as I see fit. And that support involves believing and trusting you both when you tell me something. So, when Harry tells me he didn’t put his name in the goblet…I believe him. Because he’s my friend and until he does something to make me not trust him, I will continue to trust him. I’m not ‘siding’ with him to spite you and honestly this whole story you’ve concocted, that we’re conspiring against you, makes you sound like an absolute loon.” Hermione finished her speech and tucked her own legs up to her chest, hoping Ronald would respond to what she said with reason. When he didn’t automatically bite her head off or demand she leave his room, she let out a deep breath of relief.
She watched as Ron’s mouth scrunched up in conflict, his long hair covering his eyes and most of his emotion, until finally, he spoke, “I know you two aren’t plotting against me.”
Hermione looked at him in confusion.
“Well I mean, I guess at first I thought you were, but now not really. It’s just not fair. No one likes to be second, especially to Harry Potter. Harry Potter’s stupid friend…”
Hermione’s heart broke. She unwrapped herself and scooted sideways, pulling Ronald into a tight hug. He stiffened at the contact for a moment and then relaxed. They had never been physically close, the way she and Harry were, but Hermione felt this situation called for it.
“You’re not Harry Potter’s stupid friend, Ronald. You may not see it, but you’re worth a lot more than you realize. Are you a bit lazy when it comes to schoolwork? Sure—” they chuckled at her comment “—but you are not stupid.”
She pulled back, looking into Ron’s eyes for the first time in weeks. “You know, I think if he could, Harry would switch places with you in a second. Fame isn’t always a good thing.”
Ron nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder and felt the heavy weight of Ron’s head atop hers.
“I’m sorry Hermione,” he mumbled sincerely, slightly begrudgingly, but sincerely, nonetheless. Hermione smiled. Despite his bullheaded nature and obnoxious tendencies, Ron really did have a big heart. She was warmly reminded for a brief moment why, despite all his character flaws, she possessed an affection for him.
“So, how are you going to make things up with Harry?” She perked up, breaking the nice serenity of their resolution with their next challenge. Ron sighed in frustration.
“I don’t know,” Ron said, dropping his arm off her and rubbing his face.
Hermione hopped off the bed. “Well, do it on your own time, I suppose, but try not to take too long. Harry’s going to need the both of us this year.”
Ron stood as well and walked her to the door, nodding in agreement. Hermione pulled the door open and turned, looking over Ron’s kind face. A moment of impulse and Lavender’s nagging words to make a lasting impression took over and before she knew it, she was lifting onto her tip toes and placing a quick peck on Ron’s cheek. She watched as Ron brought a hand up to where her lips had touched, his cheeks turning a shade of pink under his fingertips. Throats cleared from behind her and Hermione turned, finding the twins standing in the stairwell, arms crossed and smirking. They had obviously been snooping.
“Goodnight Ronald,” said Hermione quickly, closing the door in his face and turning towards the twins in annoyance.
“Is this the young love Skeeter was talking about then?” asked George amusedly.
Hermione rolled her eyes, answering in irritation, “Get an earful then?”
“Nah, couldn’t really hear through the door,” George admitted in disappointment.
“Too thick,” added Fred.
“You know, we really should invent something for that,” mused George, looking to his brother.
“I’ll start whipping up the schematics tonight,” bit Hermione sarcastically as she pushed past them and headed down the stairs. She found Harry right where she left him and sat back down in her seat. Neither said anything as she picked up her quill and got back to work. They sat there for quite some time until Harry finally broke the silence. She wasn’t sure how late it was, but the fire was beginning to burn low and they were the only two left in the common room.
“I got a letter from Padfoot last week,” he informed her. Hermione perked up at the news, hoping that something good would come from Harry’s godfather.
“What did he say?” she asked, setting down her quill and rearranging her notes.
“Not much—” Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair “—he wants to talk on the twenty-second. Guess he doesn’t trust sending letters anymore.”
Sirius Black, also affectionately known as Padfoot, had great reason to be untrusting of the mail as he was currently still on the run from the Ministry of Magic. Accused of a crime he did not commit, it was barely a year ago he used his Animagus form to break out of Azkaban, the wizarding prison. Then through a series of incredibly complicated and confusing events (some of which included time travel), she and Harry helped him make his overall escape on the back of a hippogriff.
“Talk? How are you going to talk?” Hermione asked, placing her things into her book bag. Surely Sirius wasn’t planning on coming onto the school grounds. With ministry officials scurrying around for the tournament, Hogwarts was a risky place to be. The whole country of England wasn’t a safe place for him really.
“I don’t know. He just said to be in the common room at one in the morning,” admitted Harry as he collected his things as well. Hermione frowned.
“Well I just hope he doesn’t plan on putting himself in danger of getting caught or seen,” she said, looking purposefully at her best friend.
“I just hope he has some advice on how to not die this year in the tournament,” said Harry. Hermione bit her lip and something tugged sharply in her chest. She reached across the table and placed a hand atop Harry’s.
“Harry James Potter, you are not going to die. Not if I have anything to say about it,” Hermione proclaimed the fact with so much conviction, she surprised even herself. Harry looked at her though his round glasses, his green eyes scanning her face. For what? Sincerity? Truth? Answers? Hermione did not know, but what she did know was that she wasn’t going to let Harry down. Her breakthrough with Ronald was only the first step. He placed his other hand over hers and gave her a tight smile. Hermione blinked rapidly, fighting the tears that threatened to spill down her face. After a moment they stood and left the common room to their respective dormitories. Not another word was needed.
Fred sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall eating his lunch. He thought there must have been some greater power looking out for him today because they were serving his favorite – shepherd’s pie. The day had been a rough one so far and the little comfort that came from his favorite food was enough to take the edge off. That morning, after another futile attempt to catch a visiting Ludo Bagman, he and George had gone over their inventory and funds. Needless to say, it was depressing. Turns out they needed the money Ludo owed them more than they thought. They were for all intents and purposes, broke. The advertisement they sent out for had profited quite well, but with their mother’s raid before the start of term, their supply was limited and soon they would no longer be able to supply products to keep up with demand. He and George wagered they could make a larger profit off of new and exciting products, but they really only had a few sickles and knuts for pocket money. The whole situation left them with one option.
“Harry—" Fred spoke, catching the attention of the dark-haired fourth year “—mind being a dear and letting Georgie and me borrow Hedwig?” He watched as Harry swallowed his sip of pumpkin juice and wipe his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
“Uh, sure. What for?”
“That my dear boy—” smirked George “—is classified.”
“Really on a need to know basis,” Fred added, sniffing importantly.
“You know, I think I’d rather not know actually. But sure, she’s up in the owlery. Just make sure you bring her a treat, or she’ll be put out for a while and I’ll have to pay the price,” Harry informed them before stuffing a forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth. It was at that moment Fred spotted a flushed and chipper Hermione entering the Great Hall. Her hair was especially full and bouncy as she skipped towards them, her cheeks and nose a soft pink hue. Fred imagined she would be in a better mood today after what he could only imagine was a reconciliation between her and Ron last night.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted the lot of them cheerfully, setting her bag down and sitting next to Harry.
“What’s got you all pink? Just come from a hot snogging session?” George asked cheekily. Hermione’s face transitioned from its soft pink to a brilliant red. Lifting her nose up in indignation, she trained a disapproving look on George.
“If you must know, I’ve just come from Hagrid’s—” she loaded the plate in front of her with shepherd’s pie and vegetables “—he had me over for tea, and so naturally I’m starving.”
Harry snorted, shooting pumpkin juice across the table. Fred cried in despair as the last of his lunch became covered in regurgitated liquid.
“Gross mate,” said George, scrunching up his face as he wiped his wet cheek with his robes.
“Sorry,” coughed Harry sheepishly.
“Did you see the new notice on the bulletin board this morning?” asked Hermione. They all shook their heads. She rolled her eyes, obviously annoyed they didn’t keep rigorously up to date with the daily affairs of the school like she did. Fred watched hypnotically as Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and took a bite of her food. He concentrated on the odd way her nose scrunched ever so slight when she chewed, almost like she was intrigued by the taste alone. Hermione had a very small nose. Not in a disproportionate way, but in a very pleasing way, he decided. Thin across the bridge, it’s up-turned end pointed ever so delicately into the air. It was also spattered with freckles, much like his own but not quite as obvious. From far away you’d never see them, but as you got closer, you’d notice the light patterns of golden brown that adorned the bridge spreading under her eyes.
“Earth to Freddie!” George bellowed in Fred’s ear.
Fred jumped, covering his assaulted ear drum. “What?!”
“I was saying they just put out the announcement that next weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend. I thought maybe we could all go!” Hermione proposed for the second time.
“Or do you prefer to sit and stare at Hermione all day like a twat?” George asked.
Fred frowned at his brother. “I wasn’t staring. I was simply lamenting over the fact that I have to buy Granger a week’s supply of sugar quills.” Luckily, they were a very cheap sweet, thought Fred.
Hermione smiled sweetly, but Fred caught the devilish glint in her eye he was becoming very familiar with.
“I don’t know Hermione—” said Harry “—you might have to go without me.”
“Why?” she asked, her face falling. Fred watched Harry lean in and whisper something to Hermione. She pulled back and nodded, her face a mask of concern and understanding. Leaning back in, it was her turn to whisper something to him – information that he and George were not privy to. Her small hand reached up from under the table and landed on Harry’s upper arm as they pulled back smiling. Obviously, they had come to some kind of agreement that both were happy with. Fred felt an odd sensation wash over him as he watched the two engage in their private conversation. It was the same feeling he got in the hospital wing with Angelina and again when he watched Hermione kiss his little brother on the cheek.
If he didn’t know any better, watching this interaction, he might have believed Rita Skeeter’s accusation that her and Harry were entangled. He shook his head, clearing his mind of the strange route his thoughts had taken. Glancing down the table his little sister, Ginny, was sat next to Neville Longbottom and a few of her friends, laughing and gossiping as they ate. Just past them sat a group of first years looking over a copy of Seeker Weekly, and then further down were Lee, Alicia, Katie, and Angelina. The first three seemed to be engaged in an excited conversation. Lee was lecturing Katie on something with a tired look on his face while Katie shook her head and brought a hand up to her brow. Alicia watched the two, grinning as she stifled a laugh. But the last, Angelina, was looking at him. As their eyes connected, he gave a small friendly smile. However, he was not greeted with a smile in return like he expected. Instead she stood abruptly from the table and headed towards the exit to the Great Hall.
Fred stood too. “I’ll catch you later Georgie. Gotta’ go take care of something.”
He didn’t wait for a response as he raced out of the Great Hall to catch up with Angelina. He found her not too far down the corridor.
“Angelina! Hey, wait up!” called Fred, jogging towards her. Angelina stopped and turned, waiting for him to close the distance between them. From her crossed arms and scowl, Fred could tell she was upset. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” he asked, placing a hand on her cheek.
She brushed him off. “Nothing,” responded Angelina, pushing her dark braids over one shoulder, and looking away from him. However, Fred could tell from the tone in her voice that there was in fact, something wrong.
“Come on. Don’t lie to me Angie. You can tell me. What’s wrong?” implored Fred as he reached out his hand again and pulled her face towards his, coaxing her to look at him.
“Oh, now you’re here for me? How nice of you to actually pay me the time of day,” bit the athletic chaser. Her reaction struck Fred dumb. Is she mad at me? he wondered in utter bewilderment.
“What have I done?!” he asked defensively. Just then a group of Hufflepuffs rounded the corner, casting sideways glances at the quarreling couple. Angelina grasped Fred’s wrist, pulling him from out of the middle of the corridor and tucking them into a small alcove.
“We haven’t spoken in weeks! You’re always too busy hanging out with Granger and Potter to spend time with any of your friends,” accused Angelina, chewing on the inside of her cheek, and shifting her weight from foot to foot. A pang of guilt rushed through Fred. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a puff of breath. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t really hung out with any of his usual friends in a while. Lee, he saw nearly every day as they shared a room, but he couldn’t remember the last time he spoke to any of them for more than a few minutes. He looked back at the girl in front of him to begin his apology but before he could, Angelina continued.
“Look, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to just answer me honestly. I won’t freak out or anything, just be honest—” Angelina took a deep breath “—do you maybe have a crush…or something on someone?”
“What?” asked Fred.
“You know? Like on Granger or…whatever?”
“Her—Granger, she’s just a friend. She’s been having a bit of a hard go of it lately, you know, with Ron and Harry off their rockers. George and I sort of took it as our responsibility to look after her. But you know, as friends. She’s a cool girl and I like her alright, but just as a friend. Only a friend. That’s it,” said Fred, feeling dizzy at just how many times he used the word ‘friend’. It was as he repeated the word, however, that he wondered just how true it was. He hadn’t ever really thought of Granger in that way. Perhaps that fact alone meant they were just friends. Angelina seemed unconvinced.
“As for not spending time with you—” Fred went on “—I’m sorry. We haven’t actually been spending all our time with Granger. Mostly George and I have been working on our joke shop stuff. We’ve hit a couple of roadblocks you see.” He let out a frustrated sigh as he thought about the lack of money and dwindling supplies.
Angelina’s expression softened. “I guess I’m just used to having you all to myself. It’s been hard to adjust what with quidditch being canceled and everything…” said Angelina. Fred smiled knowing that was probably the closest he’d ever get to hearing Angelina admit she was wrong.
“You know, Hogsmeade weekend is coming up. How about you and I spend it together?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”
“Okay,” Angelina smiled sweetly.
“Are we good then?” asked Fred. He watched as Angelina’s smile turned into a playful smirk.
“Yeah, we’re good. But we have a lot of catching up to do.” With that statement she grabbed his wrist again and started pulling him down the corridor.
“Where are we going?” Fred asked dumbly.
“To catch up. I was thinking it’s been a while since we paid a visit to our secret passageway.”
“Oh—” said Fred and then realization struck “—Oooooohh! Oh, you saucy minx.” And with that his pace quickened till the two of them were practically running towards poor Gregory the Smarmy.
Chapter 10 >>
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The Elephants in our Classroom
After two years living in Barcelona I thought it was about time that I seriously studied Catalan. I signed up for the first course of the Normalització Lingüística. I joined up and looked forwards to my new venture. But in spite of the efforts and energy of the teacher I soon found myself struggling to motivate myself to attend; the teacher seemed ambivalent to my presence, the rest of the group seemed entirely made up of Bolivian housewives, and, as they already seemed to have Castellano nailed (mine was still pretty shaky), they seemed able to pick stuff up (like conjugations and genders) much, much quicker. Suffice it to say, I dropped out after just a few months and sadly never returned.
I mention this small chapter of my life to illustrate that, although as a teacher we can put a lot of effort into preparing and presenting our classes, the amount our students learn (or fail to learn) is governed just as much by other factors that can lead to serious demotivation which if not dealt with can have devastating results.
In my presentation at APAC 2016 I pointed out that in his book ‘The Happiness Hypothesis’ Jonathan Haidt compared the task of trying to consciously inhibit our basic urges and emotions to a rider sitting on top of an elephant. The rider represents our executive brain (the rational decision making bit) and the elephant represents our limbic system (the bit in charge of making us feel angry, frightened or elated). We all have our own emotional, irrational elephants which cause us to have negative as well as positive feelings. In my presentation I identified and outlined 8 key factors that can cause our pupils (and in fact all of us) to get upset and thus demotivated. These 8 factors can be used as a 'demotivation check' not only for our classes but for any aspect of our lives. The first 6 are universal whereas the last 2 I feel are more for secondary students and adults although I'm perfectly happy to be proved wrong. If these 6(8) factors are not addressed and dealt with properly then your students are going to be demotivated in your classes even if you stand on the desk and start dancing while giving out free sweets.
To be succinct, these 8 factors I call
Status
Fairness
Certainty
Novelty
Autonomy
Tribism
Progress
Altruism
It is important to get a reasonable score for each of these factors with every child in your class. If one factor is found lacking then this could hinder learning, if two or more are lacking, then the student will be substantially demotivated and their grades are likely to seriously suffer as a result.
Let's clarify and briefly consider each one
Status
By Status I mean recognition, acknowledgement, being valued, being viewed as worthwhile. Nothing hurts quite like being ignored, overlooked or forgotten. Prisoners in solitary confinement cause havoc just to get any sort of human attention. We give recognition when we go around the class while pupils are engaged in some activity observing, nodding and making positive noises of approval to each child in turn. Praise is another obvious example of increasing an elephants feeling of status. When we mark homework, although correcting mistakes seems like the rational thing to do, it rarely motivates the pupil whereas acknowledging what the child got right, recognising any extra effort the child has made and praising it (e.g.. "excellent choice of vocabulary") even if it was misspelled, is much more likely to get the child to take pride in his or her work. There are many, many ways that we can reinforce our pupils’ feelings of status, especially with the weaker ones. How many are you doing. How many are you overlooking?
Fairness
Life is not fair. It's true - but it still hurts. Injustice is a major cause of unrest and resentment in the world. How many people have killed themselves (and others) in the name of justice? The problem with justice is that what might seem fair and reasonable to one person might seem completely unfair and unreasonable to another. If this weren't the case, then the divorce settlement courts would disappear overnight. For example, giving a test in class where the pass level is 60% for everyone might seem fair to you, but for little Johnny who always comes last, 60% might seem completely unattainable and so not fair at all. However, if the test was to simply beat the result that each child got in last month's test then that might be considered fairer by the weaker kids: the challenge is more within their capabilities and it would also give the more able kids reason to stretch themselves instead of just coasting along without making too much effort. What do your pupils say is unfair? Could they have a point?
Certainty
Super nanny constantly repeats ad nauseam the importance of rules and boundaries: we all like to know where we stand. The older your pupils are, the more useful it is to make it crystal clear the who-what-whys of what they are learning: What are they expected to learn? What are the reasons for learning it? How much time will be spent on each topic? When will the exams be held? How often will tests be set? How are they graded? The more information about what is expected of them, the more they will understand the importance of the lessons and the more certainty they will have.
Novelty
It may seem contradictory after pointing out the importance of certainty, but once the certainty framework has been clearly established then the content within that framework has to vary as much as is healthy to keep everyone interested and motivated. In my experience, novelty is the topic where teachers score highest. Variety is important to all of us, isn't it? Just following the textbook is simple and scores well on the certainty but it's also predictable and uninspiring. But of course you don't do that, do you?
Autonomy
It's been clearly shown that patients in hospitals recover quicker if they have a certain control over their surroundings: choice of food, choice of TV channel, room temperature etc. Similarly, if children have some control over their studies they will be more likely to be interested in it. A clear example of this is project work where each child can decide what context they want to apply their learnings. But autonomy doesn't just mean project work. Could your pupils each have a choice (options) for what homework to do? Could they choose what chapter to study? Could they choose how to study? How many minutes they have to carry out a task in class? Individually or in pairs? What material is used in class? To have a choice, or at least to feel that you have a choice, strengthens our feeling of autonomy and thus our motivation.
Tribism
By Tribism I'm referring to the old 'us and them' syndrome. It is in our genes to want to be part of the right group, 'our' group and we yearn to be accepted. Peer pressure, fashion, groupthink are all manifestations of this same factor. As you probably already know, this desire can be leveraged by using popular or ‘trending’ public figures. I'd give examples but as I'm over 50 most kids just roll their eyes and say 'Huh, Justin Bieber? He's soooo out of date!'. Your kids know whose tribe they want to be in. But it doesn’t just exist outside school. You, as the teacher, are one of the most important figures in your pupils’ lives; your pupils crave your attention and praise (see Status above) but this means they are competing against each other. They most likely have divided up into mini-tribes within your class and some pupils will even have been rejected and isolated by the rest of the class. These pupils will struggle in class. How many of the activities done during lessons encourage teamwork rather than rivalry? Not just carrying out an exercise in pairs but work where cooperation leads to success and lack of cooperation leads to failure? Cultivating a sense of acceptance and belonging increases the feeling of belonging, the feeling of being accepted.
Progress
I have a friend who has a great job, with great conditions and a great salary. She hates it. Why? Because she's been doing exactly the same thing for 22 years. Although there is constant variety and challenges in her job she is not making any progress. Lack of progress, or to be more specific, the sensation of a lack of progress can be a killer. Think of sitting in agonisingly slow moving traffic or unsuccessfully trying to lose weight. Not only do we need to progress in our fields of endeavour, but we need to perceive our progress, too. If students are able to recognise their progress, then they will respond accordingly. Assuming that your pupils are progressing, how can you actually tell? How can they tell? What can they do today that they couldn't do last month? How much of the syllabus have they covered to date? How much new vocabulary have they acquired? And above all, how can you demonstrate this to be true?
Altruism
Helping others. We all like to be of service, after all, that's why most of us went into teaching in the first place, wasn't it? We like to know that what we are doing can be of help to others. Pointing out that ‘English is a useful language because it can help get a job’ might seem logical but it's not a here-and-now concept. Pupils can realise English is really useful right now if you frame it accordingly. The school my children go to has a mentor system where older kids help younger ones in their studies. That's an example of direct help. It strengthens our self-esteem and self-confidence which are both great motivators. But Catalonia is full of English speaking tourists. Keep your ears out for any examples of students who have used their English to help real people in real life. These stories also serve to show that English is not some abstract concept limited to Hollywood and MTV. It's a useful skill not only for ourselves but useful for helping others, too.
So, going back to my abysmal attempt to learn Catalan all those years ago what could the teacher have done to pacify my elephant? Well, firstly it would have been nice for her to have paid as much attention to her students as she did to her lesson plans by getting to know them a little and at least pretending that she was concerned about us and happy to see us. Secondly, any sort of activity where I could have got to bond a little with the rest of the class would have been nice; the interactions were almost entirely student-teacher or simple pair-work reading stuff. Finally, if she had acknowledged that as an Anglophone I might need a bit of extra support regarding bizarre conjugations and the illogical gender of inanimate objects (why is a ‘llibre’ male but ‘llibreta’ female, anyway?), then I might have felt that things were a little bit fairer and I’d have been a little more motivated to stick it out. I know that these comments might seem rather egocentric, but they are undisputedly real and we are all egocentric deep down, aren’t we?
These 8 factors aren’t just limited to our students. Consider how they might apply to you and the rest of the staff at your school. How might they apply to your social groups or to your family or even your marriage? Identifying and addressing weak spots that we might not have thought important can help keep our elephants happy in all aspects of our lives, and that is a very good thing… isn’t it?
If you are interested in this article and would like to explore, discover or vehemently argue to the contrary the points I have raised here, I will be running a workshop on this subject on Friday 17th of February at the 2017 APAC Annual Conference where I’ll be getting attendees to share their experiences and look at what we can do to keep the little elephants in our classrooms happier. Hope to see you there!
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