Muggle-Raised Tendencies -
Taking Diff'rent Strokes

DISCLAIMER: Whoa! Hang on a mo, me duckie! You HONESTLY believe I came up with the gorgeous, charming, brilliant Chosen One - Harry Potter? You silly little muggles, you! The only thing Jo and I have in common is nationality. Hey, did you hear? She might be nominated for a Nobel Prize! Isn't she a lucky bunny! But that's only gossip, of course. I also don't own Diff'rent Strokes, I just like Arnold's catchphrase. XD He was so CUTE!
Warning! Hhr! If you don't like… Who cares? Flame… and I'll feed you to a grindylow. But CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISISM = CHOCOLATE FROGS! XD Simples as! Oh, a DO REVIEW, DAHLING! You know it makes sense!

* 1*

HARRY

September 5th 1991, 2230 hours

"What'chu talkin' bout, Weasley?" Over my shoulder, I heard a loud snort as Dean erupted into hysterical laughter. The remaining three pairs of eyes in the dormitory continued to stare at me blankly, looking perplexed. "But that WAS right!" Ron sighed. "I'm sure it was! Don't pretend you knew it either, Dean" - at this moment he paused to throw a suspicious-looking Every-Flavour Bean at my new roommate's head, causing him to stop laughing and duck - "You weren't listening in Potions either!"
"To be honest, I think I could have listened to it a million times over and still not understand the task!" Neville piped up, collapsing backwards against his pillow.
"Seriously!" Seamus yelled, completely oblivious to the fact we were all less that ten feet away. "Old sour-grapes Snape seems to have a right stick up his arse. Only a complete loner like him would have the time to memorise the whole volume of 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi and Their Properties! And all those questions he gave Potter! That was bang out of order, mate! Bang out of-"
"Don't take it personally!" Ron butted in, recovering from his daze. "He has a go at everyone, even Percy says he didn't like him, and he was a proper teacher's pet."

"A teachers pet, eh? A bit like that girl who was next to Harry today then." said Dean with a sly smile. "Well, by the looks of the looks she was giving Harry, maybe not exactly like your bro Percy. Or maybe yes. Or NO! I don't know what goes on under your roof!" Dean said, quickly correcting himself multiple times as he caught sight of Ron's glare. If looks could kill, Dean would be six feet under. Clearing his throat, he quickly turned the subject back to Hermione, my know-it-all, sweet-ish kind-of-stalker. "Sweet Jesus, she seemed a right lady, but there she was, pushing the boat out, sitting with Capone over here. Kylie's got expensive taste, non? Not that Mr Capone exactly seemed to mind"

"Do one, Dean." I muttered, heat rising in my neck. What was his problem? This kind of piss-taking is definitely something I am going to have to get used to. Back in Little Whinging, my existence being ignored was the norm, or I was otherwise being battered by Dudley. Either way, this was different - I somehow doubted that Dean was going to sit on me. And to make matters worse, he was right. I didn't mind sitting with Hermione at all, though Ron looked a bit put out. She smelled pretty, like lavender or something, and she would have looked pretty, too, if it wasn't for her massive hair. She kind of pulls it off, though, in a weird, couldn't-care-less, geek-girl way - her nerdiness is kind of cute. All through that potions lesson she didn't take her eyes off her cauldron once, biting her lip in concentration, like the world as we know it would end if she did so much as overdose on one shred of gillyweed. But I MOST DEFINETELY DO NOT have a crush on her. No way, not like that. And if I did… its not like I'd tell. Guys like me don't go with girls like her anyway, not in real life, outside the movies. I doubt she'd feel the same way, too. And if she did, it wouldn't make sense. Dates in the library? Mint gum instead of chocolates? How on earth would that work? And in my distraction, let myself get into an argument … with myself. I really need to get my head inspected. I blame the scar. It's interfering with my brain.

Meanwhile, whilst I argued with myself over whether or not bushy hair looked cute on girls, the conversation amongst my roommates continued.
"Kylie? Capone? What you talking bout, Thomas?" Seamus mocked.
"Capone, as in Al, 'cause he's Scarface, right!" Dean gabbled, proud of his own inventiveness. "And Kylie, 'cause they both have pretty massive ha- wait!" He said, abruptly stopping mid-flow. "Do you even know the significance of that?"
"Of what?"
"The 'what you talking bout' thing, smartarse! You can't just SAY it! That would be like me saying… Well… I don't know! It would be an insult, though!" Dean yelled melodramatically, his face turning red with embarrassment. "The whole point is that… well… me and Harry get it! You lot have had the whole wizard upbringing thing, and me and Harry and 'Mione get this stuff. It's our past, like. And if you don't know the story, it just an insult to little.. Oh, what's his face? You're just using it. Anyway… that's it." There was an awkward pause as I came up to speed with the conversation. No-one really knew what to say - Neville and Ron are Pure-bloods, and Seamus and I are half-blood, so I wasn't really in the same boat as Dean at all. It was exceedingly uncomfortable - only Malfoy talks about Blood Status like this, to make a point. Ron looked outraged, and was about to retort when I stood up, and slowly walked over to the dormitory door. "Where you off, Potter?" Seamus asks, still far too loud. I shook my head, not wanting to get caught up in the chat that could easily escalate into a bitter argument - I really didn't wanted a repeat of the last eleven years after all this effort to fit in. "I think I left something in the Common Room," I lied. "Back in five." I reached for the handle, pulling the door open, and paused in the doorway. "And by the way Dean," I grinned, looking back over my shoulder. "It's Gary Coleman, Arnold when he was in Diff'rent Strokes. He used to say it to Willis, remember?"
"That's the one!" Dean exclaimed. Soon after, the conversation amongst my housemates drifted back to a mix of classes and Quidditch , and I was free to leave the dormitory without worrying who's body I'd find under the floorboards. "God bless Arnold." I muttered, and headed down the stairs, humming the theme from Diff'rent Strokes and wondering if Hermione could ever help Arnold figure out what Willis was talking about.

So, there you go. Part one of three. Fluff soon, I PROMISE! BTW, I know most of the stuff Dean says is random, but you have to imagine it with a bit of a Del-Boy Trotter air - very, very cockney, because it says that Dean is a West Ham fan (like my dad), and WHU supporters tend to be from the cockney end of Lahn-dun! Review, 'cause that's what I live for! And R.I.P. Gary Coleman. Xxx lovely jubbly, innit?

More soon, yours truly, DramionePerfected 3