Chapter Three: ...Or Is It Pets?
"Next time, I want a bit more emphasis on the -pher and for you to sound like a friend seeing a dear friend who have just come home from a war he didn't expect to survive. You know, with emotions," declared the enigmatic wizard. "I'm starting to think that you do not want me visiting you. After all, you're my favorite charge." The mysterious man gave Harry a wide smile, showing off his perfect white teeth.
"What are you doing here?" Harry seriously did not want him here. How many times had he told Chris? Phone, owl, write, whatever before he drops by. Seriously, communication would do him a whole lot of good.
"Why, warning you, of course. I don't want you to die your first year here. Unless, you want to be killed, then be my guest," said the man in black and silver robe, shrugging before smiling yet again.
Let's go back to the lack of communication, yes?
"You've been saying that to me since I first met you. You sure know how to terrify five-years-old," said Harry as he walked around the older wizard and into the classroom. He made a motion for the older gentlemen to close the door. Harry seriously did not want to get into a conversation with a professor, especially Snape, about why he was talking to an unknown wizard that has no affiliations with Hogwarts.
"And one of these days, you will take my warnings seriously," said Chris, sighing dramatically. "Ah, well." He suddenly disappeared and re-appeared sitting on top of the desk, looking down at the boy savior. "Tell me. Kissed any girls lately? No, wait! Hexed someone? Blinded your classmates with your glory that is your..."
"Tell me what it is you want and leave." Harry crossed his arms and gave Chris a glare. "I'm late for dinner." Engaging with the older wizard always involved talking in circles. Just get to the point already, Christopher.
"I blame your relatives," sniffed Chris, dapping dry a make-believe tear from his right eye. "You're always too hard on me, and, yes, that is a sexual euphemism."
Harry shook his head. "Eleven years old here. Stop trying to corrupt me."
"It's already too late for that, dear," said Chris. He hopped off the table, his robe spread spectacularly out behind him. "And you don't act your age. Go out and act your age! Seriously, hex someone. How about that Draco kid?"
"Chris," said Harry, sternly.
"to-pher. Full name, please. Full name." He eyed the child for a moment before snapping his right thumb and index finger. "How are you?" Chris eyed the boy with concern.
Harry glanced at the floor, away from the sudden concerning wizard before him. "Fine," he finally said.
"One must suffer before one achieve greatness," said Chris, trying to sound affectionate but failed.
"If you are not here for anything, can I go now? I don't want to keep my friends waiting," said Harry, his voice a bit louder than the last time he spoke.
"Yes, yes, of course," replied Chris. He snapped his fingers and the door leading to the hallway opened. He snapped his fingers again and a quill from his robes magically floated to Harry's bag before being dropped inside. "I am serious though. You need to be on a look out for danger. I can't have you dying on me."
"What else is new?" said Harry as he walked through the doorway. Harry used his magic to shut the door behind him, trying to put distance away from the grown wizard and his fate.
Ron stood by the stairway leading to the students' sleeping quarters and looked out into the common room. It was getting a bit late and few where up studying or chatting, gossiping most likely. He spotted Hermione sitting in one of the armchair by the fireplace. She was alone.
Harry was right. Ron was a bit hard on Hermione the other day. It was just...the way she acts and the way she composes herself that reminded him too much of his older brothers. Well, not the twins, but Percy and Bill. A bit of Charlie. He saw in her the potential his mother hoped to see in him, which he would never, ever lived up to.
Rubbing one of his sock covered feet against the red and golden carpet, he debated whether to go over and apologize.
It was just not his brothers that Hermione reminded him of. The bushy headed girl also reminded him of Harry. Hermione may be vocal inside a classroom, but outside? Good luck trying to get two words out of her. Harry was the same way. He barely talks, only when spoken to, and even then it was a stretch.
The Boy Who Lived never talked much about his home nor his family. He won't talk about his schooling nor any aspect of muggle life in general. He also absolutely hated talking about his fame and what he had done when he was one.
Well, Ron understood that portion at least. Why waste time boosting about how he defeated You-Know-Who when the same incident scared you for life and left you parentless?
Ron gave a shuddered. No matter how much he complained about his mother or his brothers and even his annoying little sister, he couldn't imagine a world without them in it. They were his family. They loved him unconditionally and vice versa. Every child needed that.
Ron was about to step forward and walk into the common room when he suddenly tread back. Maybe the reason why Hermione and Harry acted the way they do was because of their lack of love from their family?
From friends?
He couldn't remember a time Harry or Hermione ever talked about a friend.
Suddenly, determination set upon his face. He stride into the common room with conviction and walked briskly over to Hermione. They were the last two left. Their other housemates left during the time he was deciding whether or not he should go over to her or not. It was almost time for curfew.
"I'm sorry," Ron quickly said when he reached the girl, before he lost his nerve.
"What?" Hermione asked in confusion. She placed a bookmark in the book she was reading and turned to face Ron. Why was he talking to her? Given his impression of her, Hermione doubted that Ron would ever speak to her unless force.
"For the other day...for what I said...I'm sorry," said Ron. His right hand reached up to scratch his head in embarrassment. "I was just...you're my housemate and in my year. I guess what I'm trying to say is..." His cheeks were beginning to redden. This was becoming very awkward very quickly.
"Let's start over," said Hermione, taking control of the situation. She stood up and held out her hand. "My name is Hermione Granger."
"I'm Ronald Weasley," replied Ron. He shook her hand. "Ron for short," added Ron as an afterthought.
The two stood in silence for a few seconds, their hand long returned to their side. Ron didn't know what to make of the situation. He looked over to Hermione and saw that she was staring intently at him. He quickly lowered his eyes.
Seeing his subdued look, Hermione smiled and said, "Apology accepted." Maybe he had changed after all.
Ron let loose a puff of air. "Okay." He shifted his feet for a moment before asking, "What are you reading?"
Hermione sat back down in the armchair and held out the book for Ron to read. "Hogwarts, A History," she said.
Ron made a face. "That is not even assigned reading." Of course.
There was a pause before Hermione said anything in response. "It's interesting."
Ron knew that even though Hermione said that she forgave him, he was still walking on a thin line.
"Wouldn't you rather experience the castle yourself than read it from a book? It's right there in front of you and I'm pretty sure there are stuff that the author didn't even mention." His right hand played with his pajama shirt as he spoke, his head hanging a bit low.
Hermione touched the stuck-out bookmark lightly and with care. "You think?" Her voice giving off the intent that Ron should continue.
"Of course!" Ron suddenly exclaimed. He looked at her with excitement in his eyes."You see there this one time George and Fred were walking..."
Harry quickly walked down the corridor, his bag strand threatening to come off his shoulder. Seeing the pink lady's portrait, Harry promptly said the password before heading into the Gryffindor's common room. However, he made a sudden stop as he digest the scene in front of him.
Ron and Hermione.
Ron and Hermione sitting side by side on the floor talking.
And they were not fighting.
Harry smiled. Progress was made.
"Hey, what are you guys doing?" Harry walked over to one of the couches and placed his schoolbag there before heading to Ron and Hermione by the fireplace.
"Nothing much. I was just showing Hermione my pet rat Scabbers," replied Ron, holding out the oversized brown rat as he if needed to confirm their conversation topic.
"We are not even suppose to have a pet rat," stated Hermione. "The letter said a pet toad, cat or owl." She crossed her arms and gave Ron a look of disproval. She was never comfortable in breaking the rules of any kind.
"Nobody needs to know," said Ron, cheeks redden. She really needed to get off her high horse and she differently need to let loose.
"I know," said Hermione, her eyebrows raised.
"No one else needs to know," replied Ron as he stuck out his tongue. However, he was glad that she didn't go on a lecture about the ethics of rule-breaking.
"Fine, but I will not cover for you," said Hermione, a hint of a smile on her lips.
Ron smiled in response and continued playing with Scabbers' whiskers.
Choosing a spot near Hermione, Harry sat down and held out his hand. Ron gently placed the rat on Harry's opened palm.
"Where were you?" asked Hermione hesitantly as she remembered the last time she asked Harry a question. Her fingers were playing with her curls as she waited for him to answer.
"The library. It's quieter in there," said Harry. He looked up and met her eyes before looking back down at the rat. He saw distrust and doubts in them.
"I'm always at the library," said Hermione, choosing her words carefully and saying them slow. "I never seen you in there before." Her earlier accusations suddenly filled Harry's mind.
"Are you saying that you don't trust him?" accused Ron, his voice rose an octave. Hadn't Harry have enough already?
"No," Hermione tried to explain. "What I am trying to say is...where do you usually go? I mean, even in the library, there's always students around and I just want to know how you can get away from them."
"Oh," said Ron, misunderstanding her question and the situation. She wanted a better study space or a friend to hang out with. Ron got that. He also knew that Harry could defend himself, but it was nice that he could defend him from detractors, even from the girl he once thought of as a bossy know-it-all. Okay, he still thinks of her as a bossy know-it-all, but he's working on not expressing his opinions, or whatever. For Harry's sake, and for his peace of mind.
Harry petted the rat before saying, "I tend to head toward the back. Between two bookshelf that no one goes to." Sensing that Hermione wanted more, Harry quickly added, "I usually alternate. Sometimes I don't even go to the library. I'll just use one of the castle many empty rooms. As long as I don't touch anything out of the ordinary, I'm fine."
Not yet quite satisfied with the answer, Hermione decided to let it go for now. "Fine."
The three settle down to a comfortable conversation as the flickering flames continued to provide heat and comfort. Ron did the majority of the talking, but Hermione and Harry contributed their share. They talked about the past few weeks at Hogwarts, their classes and their impressions on anything in general.
"Professor Snape is out to get us for sure," declared Ron. He slapped his right hand against his knee for more emphasis. "He is always deducting points from our House and blaming us for his House's mishaps. It just not fair." There was no need for Slytherin to win the House Cup yet again. It was his...err...Gryffindor's turn this year.
"He's a great teacher," replied Hermione as she tried to defend the Potions Master. "So he's showing favoritism to his own house. You can't say that the other Head of House don't do the same." Every time she or Harry did something the other students did not, they were rewarded with at least five points each. Though, this was a weak argument. Amelia from Slytherin also got five points whenever she successfully performed a spell correctly.
"Yeah, but not so blatantly and so often," justified Ron, ignoring Hermione's reasonings. "And there is absolutely no need for him to be picking on Harry all the time."
"I'm fine, Ron," said Harry. He didn't like others to feel sorry for him and for his troubles. He could handle himself.
"I think Professor Snape is actually favoring Harry," said Hermione as she crossed her arms and waiting for Ron to retort.
"What?" exclaimed Ron. "Have you not been in class? It's clearly Draco that he's showering all the points to." She must be mad.
"For superficial stuff, Ron," explained Hermione. She glanced at Harry before setting her eyes on Ron once more. "It's like he is babying Draco, not teaching him. Professor Snape actually takes his time to question and quiz Harry, as if he cared."
"Yeah, by trying out insults on him," mumbled Ron. He hated not being able to come to Harry's defense in class without risking more points being deducted.
"Seriously, Ron, I'm fine," said Harry as he tried to comfort his friend. "I don't mind, actually. I had worst before."
Hermione gave Harry a look. "What do you mean by worst?"
"Um...it's nothing," Harry hastily replied. He hoped that she'll let it go, like what she had done earlier.
"Come on, Scabbers," said Ron, oblivious to the tension that suddenly filled the air. "Come on. Climb up my arm." The rat scurried around the carpet before them, ignoring Ron's command. Hermione's eyes fell down to Scabbers, as if she cared if the rat climbed up Ron's arm or not. On the record, she didn't. Off the record? She was interested.
"Hey, Ron," said Harry, changing the subject. Hermione was still looking at the rat. "I've been meaning to ask you, but why is he missing a toe?"
"I don't know," said Ron. The rat suddenly jumped in the air and ran into Ron's open hands. "He was like that for as long as I remember."
"It's a bit strange," said Hermione as she added in her input. "How is it that your rat lived this long?" The rats at her school never lived this long. Maybe it was because of magic?
"My mother like to say that it's because we love him so much," replied Ron. The rat would not stop squirming around! "I like to think that he's too stubborn to die."
Harry gave Hermione a knowing look. She was onto something. "I think it's strange that you suddenly have this rat almost right after the...Are you okay, Ron?"
The rat suddenly gave Ron a bite on his right index finger before shooting out of his hand and over to the entrance way. At the moment, Neville was walking through nursing his injured left wrist he got mended at the Hospital Wing when suddenly the four-legged creature ran right past him and out the portrait hole.
"Scabbers!" shouted Ron as he quickly got up and chased after his pet. Not again, he thought. Just great.
"Ron, it's curfew!" shouted Hermione as she followed behind him. Seriously, why must they continue on breaking more rules? "We'll get in trouble!"
"I don't care!" yelled Ron. He pushed pass Neville. "He's my pet!" And Mum will kill me!
Hermione gave a puff of annoyance before she followed Ron out.
"Neville, are you fine?" asked Harry. He steadied the accident prone housemate in front of him.
"Yeah, I'm fine," replied Neville, rubbing his shoulder that Ron bumped into. "You should go after them before Flich or Ms. Norris finds them."
"Okay," said Harry. Suddenly, a thought. "Wait...How did you know the password?" Neville never know the password. It was amazing really how much Neville constantly forget things.
"Oh, a friend of mine said to just write the password on my arm everyday before I leave the dormitory," replied Neville. He was pleased with the strategy he got going on. It had saved him from being locked out for several nights in the row now.
"Friend?" Harry didn't remember seeing Neville with anyone outside of class.
"You're going to lose Ron and Hermione," commented Neville, not noticing the confusion on Harry's face.
"Right. Right" Harry quickly turned around and headed out into the corridor. He'll ponder about the conversation he just had later.
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"
"Bloody hell," said Ron as he, Harry and Hermione ran for their lives down the hallway, only to come upon a locked door and a dead-end.
"This is it! We're done for! This is the end!" moaned Ron. His hands were tugging on his hair as he leaned against the wall. The rat in his pocket chose this moment to go deathly still.
"Stop being so melodramatic," commanded Hermione. She would not be caught breaking curfew. They just needed another solution, that's all. Maybe a distraction?
Harry took out his wand from inside of his robes.
"You have your wand with you?" asked Hermione, surprisingly. Why didn't she bring her wand with her? A witch should always have her wand handy, she scowled to herself.
"I haven't changed yet," stated Harry. "So I didn't take out my wand or anything." Hermione looked at her pjs then at Ron's and Ron lack of shoes. He got a point there.
"Do you even know what you are doing?" asked Hermione. She moved her hair out of her eyes to see what Harry was about to do.
Ron suddenly looked around with alarm. A feeling of dread began to spread through his body. "I don't think we should..."
"Quite, Ron!" hushed Harry. "I'm trying to think." Harry took a deep breath and said, "Alohomora."
The lock clicked and the door swung open. Hermione quickly went in while Harry ushered Ron through the doorway. He then placed a finger on his lips and pressed his ear on the door.
Ron had just figured why he was feeling the way he was feeling.
"Ron, stop tugging on my my sleeves. Ron!" Glancing quickly at his friend before pressing his ear against the door again, Harry asked, "What?"
"This is the forbidden third corridor," whispered Ron, his voice barely audible.
"What?" Harry couldn't hear anything on the other side of the door. Was Filch gone?
"This is the door that Fred tried to get me to go into," answered Ron. His voice was beginning to break.
Before Harry could register Ron's words, he heard Hermione whispered, "Ron, Harry...look." Her words were laced with fear and terror.
Harry and Ron turned around. Suddenly, Harry knew why this corridor was forbidden. There was a mountainous and monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. And, besides the size, this was no ordinary dog. Rather, this dog had three heads, three set of eyes and three mouths, each filled with sharp looking teeth and saliva drooling down their respective chin.
Ron gave a shot and quickly tried to get the door to open. Between Filch and the dog, he choose Filch.
Harry, however, noticed something.
The dog was standing on a trapdoor.
A door that lead somewhere.
A door that someone needed this murderous looking being to stand guard.
Everything was beginning to make sense.
He had just found out where the little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was hiding.
