A Smart, Dumb Decision
Chapter 1: Smartest Witch makes Dumb Decision
A/N: I have no idea what made me write this.
His alarm blared annoyingly, effectively rebooting his mind to the world around him. Lazily, an arm swiped in the general direction of where the noise was coming from, a resounding smack was heard as his palm struck something off the nearby desk. This was accompanied by a loud smash, which was then followed by an annoyed sigh.
"Balls…" he mumbled but did not move, just continued to lay there, seemingly unbothered by the destroyed alarm clock and more bothered by the blearing noise. He was seemingly happy to continue to lay there, not contributing to the world today. That is until the noise of flapping feathers broke into his hearing, and a blurry shape of a feathery bird landed onto his chest. The man huffed as he waved the blurry image away, which it did, not before dropping a small object onto his face. He scrambled at the sudden impact, not from pain but from surprise. He realised that the object was his glasses.
"Great…" he mumbled… "breakfast it is!"
Placing his glasses onto his face, his vision cleared up dramatically, images becoming defined and easily identifiable, his bedroom was rather bare, only containing the absolute necessities, in fact, the only eyebrow-raising thing in his room would be the fiery orange large bird perched on his nightstand, cocking its beak at him in indifference. The man laughed at the bird's annoyance, "okay, okay, I know you're hungry Blaze, just give me a second", the bird known as Blaze seemingly understood what the man had said, and quickly flew out of the room, through the open window, the window that the man knew wasn't open when he went to sleep last night.
Gotta get a better lock on that bloody thing… Also, have to find a way to stop Blaze from following me home.
No-one told him that Phonexixs were masters of unlocking, but that could all be dealt with later, right now, he glanced out of his window at the gray dreary skies above.
It was time for work.
Later
He hauled a large red bucket around, passing by small enclosures filled with unique, little creatures, as he passed by each, he would click his fingers and watch as a generous amount of feed flew from the bucket straight into the enclosures. He smiled as his ears picked up the sound of happily scurrying creatures, excited about their meals. He did this for a few more minutes before the bucket was emptied. Clicking his fingers once again and the bucket disappeared. His next feedee would practically be offended if he attempted to give the same feed to it. Its taste was far more specific. The man strolled down a cobblestone path heading for a large forest, one that he knew spanned for miles upon miles, and of course, he'd know that he owned the entire thing. Coming up to a small shack, he unlocked the gate and went inside to grab the needed food.
Later
A few minutes later, he was casually walking through the forest, a large sack hanging over his shoulder.
"The witch strolled through the woods, looking for something to curse…" He sang quietly to himself as the large forest above him shaded him completely from the suns gaze. His eyes noticed a three-pronged track in the mud, he followed it, pulling out a small device from his back pocket, pressing it, a small clicking noise resonated from it. And he continued to click as he continued.
"She found a small dog, playing in the mud…" A cautious caw let him know he was on the right track, but he wasn't worried about the caw, this process took place every day.
"She cursed the little thing, how sad… the little thing whined and moaned" His foot caught a stray twig and almost fell over, but his quick reflexes put a stop to that, and he couldn't help but chuckle to himself.
"It cried and cried, the sound set her right and she took the pain away…" A small rumble in his jacket pocket had him pulling out his phone, he smiled at the screen.
You up yet? – Received.
"The witch realised her mistake and took the little thing away…" He managed to send a quick reply with one hand.
I am, MOOOOOM :/ - Sent.
"She took it home and they played the night away!" he finished the little ditty, smiling at the happy ending of the song just like he always did. And another rumble from his phone kept the smile up.
HARRY JAMES POTTER, DON'T YOU SASS ME – Received.
He laughed at that, how could he not? Knowing that the message wasn't serious, and a devious smirk crossed his face, as his finger crossed across the phone screen.
Can't talk MOOOOM, busy feeding BB :p – Sent.
He was so going to get it for that. But first, his head shot up as heavy flapping alerted him, he had found what he was looking for.
"Buckbeak…" He couldn't hide the smile as his hippogriffical friend landed in front of him, kicking at the ground. Harry stared directly into the magical creature's eyes and the cross between a horse and bird stared back, this lasted for a few moments before the intimidating creature trotted over, and rubbed its head onto Harry's, to which he responded by giving the creature a one-armed hug around its neck, he patted it for a few moments before pulling back. "You hungry bud?" He raised the sack to show his feathered friend and laughed when Buckbeak stomped its hoofed feet happily, trotting around Harry's form in anticipation. "Alright, here we go!" He opened the sack and grabbed something from it, he pulled out a dead rodent and threw it at his friend, Buckbeak gobbling it up in seconds. Harry then dumped the sack into the ground and emptied it, figuring he'd treat Buckbeak to a very large breakfast today.
He stepped back and let Buckbeak dig in, squealing happily at its breakfast, however, his attention turned to his phone once again.
I am going to smack you – Received.
He laughed out loud.
How very like Hermione Weasley.
LATER
It had been a few hours since breakfast, and currently, he was nestled in his office with a warm cup of hot chocolate in his hand. Legs resting on his wooden desk.
"Been a quiet morning today, what do you figure Blaze?" He questioned the phoenix perched on its nearby stand, it didn't answer obviously.
"Yeah, I thought so too" he answered himself, obviously enjoying the company of the fiery bird. He finished off his cup before standing up and walking towards a plaque on the wall. The mere sight of it brought an infectious smile on his face.
Potter's Care for Magical Creatures Foundation (P.C.M.C.F)
Certificate for an outstanding care rating for endangered magical creatures In Britain.
And underneath the framed certificate was a framed piece of paper that read;
I'm so proud of you Harry.
Love. Hagrid
Love ya too, you big oaf, without you, this place wouldn't have happened.
Hagrid had been instrumental to this place, guiding Harry and helping him with so many things to do with magical creatures, both safe and dangerous. He still remembered the time, the pair had tried to relocate a Hidebehind that had found its way to Ireland last year, the pair still had the scars to show for that, and Harry had his fair share of nightmares to boot from it. The thing had come very close to killing him… TWICE before they managed to incapacitate it long enough to move it to the foundation's high-risk site.
He was broken from his musings as a knock struck his door. "Come in!" He voiced, returning to his seat, opening the door, a small figure nervously walked into his office, an elf to be exact, a gray female one.
"Ah, Dinky! How're you today?" Dinky was one of many elves who worked for the PCMCF, during the years after the battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione have been campaigning for Elfish rights and, his foundation was one of the first to ever officially employ elves, giving them weekly pay, Dinky was one of the first to be employed and was trusted by Harry to feed some of the more risky creatures.
The small elf shies away momentarily before mustering up the courage to respond "Dinky is happy today Master" She catches herself "Mr. Potter, Dinky has just finished assisting Miss. Longbottom in feeding the Thestrals".
"That's great Dinky! How is Luna today?"
"Miss Luna had to take a moment for the baby, but Dinky was able to feed well enough!" Dinky anxiously rubbed her hands, still very unused to the kind and fair treatment the Foundation gave working elves. Harry rubbed his chin at this, Luna was almost four months pregnant with her and Neville's third child and had worked for the foundation for almost three years out of the 6 it had been established for and was considered third in charge of the foundation with Hagrid second-in-command and Harry the head of the foundation. He smirked, Luna had easily agreed to work for the foundation on the condition that if she managed to find some of her more 'mystical' magical creatures, that the foundation took care of them as well. And so far? No Humple-back snorkles or such.
Harry wrote something onto a piece of parchment, signed and sealed it into an envelope.
"Would you mind passing this to Luna please Dinky? It's her maternity leave letter, I'd tell her in person, but you know what she's like" he smirked, the last time he had to give Luna maternity leave, she spent the next few weeks sneaking back into the Foundation to feed the creatures.
Dinky took the letter hesitantly before leaving.
Harry leaned back into his chair and whistled; "third kid eh? Time really does fly by", it had been a full ten years since he killed Voldemort, and it seemed like everyone but him had a family at this point.
Luna and Nevile.
Draco and Pansy.
George and Fleur.
Seamus and Cho.
Ginny and Quidditch.
…
…
…
Ron and Hermione.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes, and with that thought, his day was ruined. It always happened when he found a quiet moment in the day. His mind went back to her, always to her. He closed his eyes to keep himself in check.
God-damnit.
Why, why had he been so dumb when he was young!? He was too busy stressing over Voldemort to notice Hermione until it was too bloody late! And Ginny ended up loving Quidditch more than him, so that relationship ended swiftly. So he kept busy, helping magical creatures, it was a full-time thing at first, barely a wink of sleep a night, but now? Six years into the Foundation has left him with a lot of free time, and by a lot, besides his morning feeding times, and a weekly visit to the High-risk site, he was free to himself, barring any emergencies. Which meant one thing.
He needed a hobby.
His love for Quidditch died with his love for Ginny and that was 9 years ago, he was done with any kind of dueling or auror work, he had enough of that crap dealing with Voldemort. He couldn't cook to save his life, reading was about as enjoyable as managing the funds for the foundation, and he arranged for the goblins at Gringotts to line the funds directly from his quite frankly; stupidly rich vaults. And he meant; Vaults. Once he became of age, he found out he had enough money to fill over four and a half vaults.
It seemed to combine the Potter and Black riches meant that Harry became the single richest wizard in Europe.
That reminded him, he had another payment to make for the relocation of another magical creature today, so he returned to his desk and began writing a letter to the right people, it would keep him occupied for a while at least. That was until he heard his phone rumble. Without thinking he reached for it and both smiled and blanched at the person who messaged him. It was the exact woman he had tried to get from his over-active mind.
How's work today? – Received.
He looked at the text, he wanted to reply, but all to would lead to was his future mental agonising over the fact that he… that he… He stalled, not wanting to continue that thought process, he practically throws the phone across his desk into a nearby chair, he couldn't, he just couldn't think like that. So with that, he returned to the letter, he suddenly found some more work to do.
Sorry, 'Mione.
LATER
It was later now, almost 11 pm, he had managed to keep himself occupied, from taking an extra feeding shift and helping Luna arrange her maternity pay, as well as sending out some applications to the ministry for a few part-time workers to make up for the lack of Luna for the next long while. That's when he realised he couldn't put it off anymore, he glanced at his phone, still laying on the chair In his office, it had vibrated a few times on and off through the hours. And honestly, he felt bad for ignoring it for so long. Hesitantly he grabbed his phone and looked at the screen.
And his eyes widened in panic.
42 messages not seen.
What the?
He cautiously checked them, and he suddenly wished he hadn't.
Harry, you there? – Received.
Harry? Are you ignoring me? – Received.
Harry James Potter, I swear if you are ignoring me… - Received.
He skims over the next few messages, most of them including joking threats for ignoring her.
The next message he reads was from a few hours ago, and it sent shivers down his spine.
Harry, can we talk, please? – Received.
Harry please! I really want to talk! – Received.
Please… - Received.
He was panicking, what was this? He was about to call when he noticed the next text he got from her.
Harry… I messed up, I messed up really bad, It's Ron. We've broken up and I need to talk to someone, I really really messed up.- Received.
The remaining texts resembled the last one, none of them made sense to Harry, they just mentioned about messing up really bad with Ron apparently. What could she had messed up with? This was Hermione Weasley, the brightest witch he knew, she could never mess up. A knock broke his thoughts and he turned to the door to see Dinky come in again, holding the daily prophet in her anxious hands. "Dinky? I'm a little busy at the moment, could you please come back later?" And he went back to his phone, but Dinky didn't leave, instead, she tentatively placed the paper on Harry's desk.
"Dinky thinks Mr. Potter should read the front page… please?"
The front page… what?
He stops, for a moment and takes a deep breath, one thing at a time, he heads to the desk, still holding his phone, he was going to message Hermione straight away after this, whatever this was that Dinky wanted him to see. That's when what he saw stole his breath in shock. The front page of the daily prophet featured a magical picture of a very familiar woman to Harry, kissing a very familiar blond haired male, and the headline read;
SMARTEST WITCH MAKES DUMB DECISION; CHEATS ON HUSBAND WITH MARRIED MAN.
Harry stared at the paper for a moment before reading some more of the report, that was until he noticed the writers name; Rita Skeeter, he immediately clicked his fingers and the paper burst into flames. Ignoring Dinky's questions, he grabs his jacket and leaves his office, quickly scrolling through his contacts before pausing on Hermione's. He pushes the call button and holds it up to his ear as he finds himself suddenly at his house in the local countryside. Having needed to apparated to a quiet and secluded location, before he did something without thinking. He waits with bated breath until he hears the click of someone picking up the phone.
"Hello," he says quietly, unsure on how to start otherwise at the moment.
"… H-Harry?" He stalls at the voice on the other end, it was hers, but at the same time, it wasn't. The voice sounded… broken, to say the least.
"Yeah, yeah, it's me, Hermione… what's happen…"
"I've messed up, I've really, really messed up and I don't know… I and Ron have broken up and…. And I've… I don't know what to do!" She was rambling, and Harry could easily tell the fact that she was crying on the other end of the phone, "Hermione, calm down…"
"I didn't mean to, I was… I was drinking…. I was- I was, I…" She was obviously breaking down on the other end and Harry felt his heart snap at the absolute desperation that filled her voice. "Hermione, just… just calm down, take a deep breath for me… okay?" The silence on the line filled Harry with worry until her voice came over, a tad calmer than before.
"Harry… I… I really need to talk to someone… anyone right now, I can't go home… not now."
His mind whirled at this, he immediately wanted to invite her over, but then his mind remembered the paper; she had been caught cheating apparently, but she just said that she was drinking and that she messed up, so she couldn't have done it maliciously, especially when the man she had kissed was Draco Malfoy of all people, there had to be an explanation about all this. But, did he want to get involved? He had his foundation, his work, his creatures, his reputation, having Hermione over could risk that last one, if someone found out he invited the supposed cheater over, it could hurt him. That's when he remembered the story's writer; Rita, and he recalled all the times Hermione had been there for him, and for a brief second he had actually thought of sending her away and he was disgusted with himself. Hermione was his best friend and she needed someone right now.
"You can come over to my place, you know, the new one I got in the countryside? I'll open up the flooway, the code is; Potter's Rest, okay?"
He hears a small sniff over the line followed by; "thanks Harry…" it was so quiet and broken that he almost missed it. And then the line went dead as she presumably hung up. He looked at his fireplace and clicked his fingers, allowing the floo to accept visitors. He would be here for his best friend.
And anyone who had anything to say about it could face his bloody wrath. That reminded him, he had very strongly worded letter to write to the Daily Prophet about a certain Skeeter.
A/N: I have no idea what made me write this, but I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it. Let me know what you thought, please?