That Special Someone
Harry had never been as glad to get on the Hogwarts Express as he was that year. His family had been running incredibly late all morning, and just barely made it to King's Cross on time. He'd nearly collided with Percy on the way through the gate and only avoided a serious incident by swerving at the last second and smashing into the wall and wanking up his shoulder. Anyway, that was how they discovered the Weasleys were also running late.
He drug his trunk along the aisle, looking for Delf and Roderick and mentally cursing his family.
"There you are," Delf said when he finally pulled their compartment door open and plopped down on the bench with a gusty sigh. Her eyes were the hazel of worry and concern. "What took you so long? We were afraid the train had left the platform without you."
"Merlin forbid. We were running late. Apparently Tom doesn't believe in packing till the very last possible second, and he went through his trunk about six times checking if he had various things. We were ready to Apparate when he realized he'd forgot his bleeding cauldron."
Roderick snorted. "Draco nearly forgot his wand."
Delf laughed. "That's impressive."
"That's what I said."
"Astoria was ready last week, practically. I came downstairs for breakfast this morning and she was sitting on top of her trunk in her robes ready to go."
"That was me in first year," Roderick said with slightly ironic nostalgia.
"I just wish it had been Tom this year," Harry chortled.
They all looked up, still grinning at the expense of their siblings when the compartment door slid open. Hermione stood in the gap, looking worried.
"Oh. I was hoping Tom and Ron would be with you."
"There is so much wrong with that statement, I don't even know where to start," Harry replied.
"I can't find them anywhere on the train. Do you know where they are?"
"No, and I'm right glad of it," Harry said. "If they're off pulling some stunt to impress the school, I want less than nothing to do with it."
"Couldn't you please just come look with me?" she implored. "I'm really concerned."
Harry groaned as he stood up. "Fine, fine. Once up and down the train, but then I wash my hands of them."
Hermione went left and Harry went right, poking his head back and forth into each compartment. "Hey, Dean, have you seen Tom or Ron?" he asked as he found Tom's dorm-mate near the end of his car. The startled Gryffindor shook his head, his eyes wide. "No? Alright…"
Next he found his fellow Quidditch players deep in a game of Exploding Snaps. "Chet, Chaz, long time," he said cheerfully. "Listen, have you seen my brother?"
"No, why?" asked Chet.
"What's he done?" from Chaz.
"Nothing, I hope," Harry replied.
"Want help looking for him?"
"No, thanks though. See you at school."
"Cedric, have you seen Tom?" he asked, poking his head around the door gap and nodding around at the group of fifth-year Hufflepuffs.
"Sorry mate, I haven't," he replied.
"Ok, thanks anyway. Our compartment's three cars up: drop by later."
"Will do," Cedric called as Harry continued down the aisle.
Halfway down the train, and still no sign of him! Harry was getting more and more frustrated, sticking his head in and out of compartments, interrupting strangers and friends alike, and asking the same question over and over and over. "Have you seen my brother? Have you seen my brother? Have you seen my bloody brother?" If Tom did wind up in trouble (which was a distinct possibility), he had better not get blamed. That would just be too unfair.
"Harry!"
Startled, he turned around, to see Colin Creevey waving at him enthusiastically. "Oh, hello Colin. Listen, have you seen—?" The boy looked at him curiously, waiting for him to finish the sentence. "Actually, never mind. Have a good train ride, alright?"
"Yeah! Sure! See you, Harry!" Harry waved as he made his way along the car, peering into each compartment as he came to it. Ah, there was someone who might know something… The question was: would he tell him if he knew it?
"Draco, have you done us all a favour and killed Tom?"
The young Slytherin looked completely baffled, and Harry had a bit of a fun time watching him try to regain his composure.
"Why would I waste the energy?" he finally sneered.
Was that really the best he could do? Poorly done. Well, the question had been a bit unexpected. "I've no idea," Harry replied. "But I'll take that as a 'no'. Nice to see you too."
The candy trolley caught up with him just as he reached Tracey's compartment, three quarters of an hour into his search. "I don't know where he's gotten himself to!" he complained around a Sugar Quill. "Unless he got himself locked in the loo, he might as well just not be on the train." He was talking to Tracey and her friend from Slytherin, Zula, who was a pretty girl with long dread locks and a mild South African accent.
"And there you were, thinking you'd get to stop worrying about him once school started." She shook her head. "Silly you."
"I didn't think I'd get to stop worrying about him," he retorted defensively. "I just thought he'd wait till we actually got to school."
"Tom makes an effort to exceed your expectations, Harry. You really ought to be impressed, not frustrated."
"I'm both!"
Tracey laughed.
"Anyway, I'm going to keep looking. See you later, yeah?"
"Yeah, yeah. Good luck."
He set off down the aisle at a good clip, waving to Tracey, only—bam!—his chin smacked into something hard, and the rest of his body bounced off whatever it was and sent him reeling back to land on his bum.
"Ow," said whatever he'd hit, which sounded like a girl. He raised a hand to rub his chin, and opened his eyes.
As a matter of fact, it was a girl, and he even knew her: Katie Bell, one of the Gryffindor Chasers. She had both hands clamped over her forehead and was rocking back and forth, going "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow."
"I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, scrambling to his knees. "I didn't see you there at all! Are you alright?"
"How is your chin harder than a Beater's bat?" was her response. "Hell, how did you even move that fast?"
"I'm sorry," he said again, unsure of what else he could do. She dropped her hands to her lap, revealing an angry red welt that looked like it would blossom into an impressive bruise before long. Harry rarely saw her off the Quidditch pitch, since she was a year younger than him and they had no classes together, besides being in different Houses. She was actually rather good looking, except for the big red mark on her forehead, courtesy of his chin. She had straight brown hair and brown eyes, and a small, but obviously sturdy frame.
"Really, are you alright?" he said again, helping her clamber to her feet.
"Yes, I think so," she replied. "Is… whatever part of you that hit me okay?"
He touched his chin. "I may have a dent, but yeah."
"Are you calling me hard-headed?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"Well, you are. Literally."
She glared at him for a moment, but then broke into a smile. "That's what my mum always says too."
He smiled back: it seemed to be infectious.
"So do you reckon you can make it wherever you're going without injuring anyone else?" she asked.
"I think so. It takes two to make a collision that impressive, I'd say."
"It's a talent," she said, tossing her hair and pretending to be proud. "Anyway. Bye then," she said, slipping past him to continue on her way.
"Sure, bye," he answered, thought something nagged at him… "Rule number nine: do girls favours!" Sirius had said in France. "Don't take her for granted," Lindsey had instructed sternly.
"Hey, wait!" he called after a moment. She turned back to face him from near the other end of the carriage. "Let me make it up to you. You're a third-year, right? Come to Hogsmeade with me. I'll show you around."
She looked slightly taken aback, then pleased. "Yeah, okay," she said. "Great!"
"Great!" he said back, grinning.
His search along the rest of the train yielded zero Tom-and-Ron-type results, but Harry didn't particularly mind. When he got back to his compartment, he found that Delf and Roderick had been joined by Fred and George, and they were engaged in lively discussion.
"Where were they then?" Fred asked as soon as Harry stepped in.
"'They'? Oh. I didn't find them."
"Then what's got you looking like the cat in the creamery?" Roderick inquired as Harry lay down on the bench opposite the three boys and put his head in Delf's lap. She immediately pulled the collar of his shirt down and started tickling his Horntail tattoo.
"I just ran into Katie Bell," he replied. "Quite literally."
Delf's fingers stilled on his skin. "So?" she said.
"Have I got a cleft in my chin now?" he asked, pointing at the feature.
Fred, George and Roderick leaned close. "Yes," they all said together.
"He has not!" Delf exclaimed. "What happened then, Harry? You apologized and went your separate ways, right?"
"At first, yeah. But then I invited her to Hogsmeade to make up for the big bruise on her forehead."
"But she didn't say yes, did she?"
"She did, as long as 'yeah, okay, great' is an agreement." Honestly, when had Delf become so pessimistic?
"But surely—" She was drowned out by a chorus of cheering and clapping and wolf-whistles from the twins. For himself, Roderick appeared slightly concerned.
Harry was grinning as the noise subsided. "So what were you lot talking about when I came in just now? Looked interesting."
"We were saying about how all of our siblings are going to marry each other," George replied.
"And what's the consensus?"
"None yet," Fred replied. "What do you think?"
"Hmm… I hope Tom and Hermione wind up together because I think she'd really mellow him out."
"None of us are related to Hermione," Roderick reminded him.
"We can pretend Cedric is," Harry said. "But according to Dad, Potter men have a thing for redheads, so I think it's going to be Tom and Ginny."
"Says the Potter man who just asked out a brunette," Roderick commented wryly.
"Shut up," Harry said cheerfully.
"What if Draco and Hermione fell for each other?" George wondered aloud.
"The moon would have to shine blue over a frozen hell populated by flying pigs," Roderick said.
"Last time that happened, Mum agreed to go out with Dad," Harry chortled.
"Ginny and Draco?" suggested Fred.
"Hermione and Ron!"
"Ron and Astoria!"
"Draco and Astoria!"
"Astoria and Tom!"
"Tom and Draco!"
Harry was laughing so hard that he accidentally rolled off the bench and landed on his wanked up shoulder.
Over the rest of the journey, their compartment was the centre of quite a deal of movement: Lee Jordan, Cedric, Tracey and Zadie, dorm mates of various Houses, and several players from both the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Quidditch teams came to check in, and the rest of the ride was generally fun and busy.
They arrived at the Hogsmeade Station in the early evening, and several hundred Hogwarts students swarmed out onto the platform. The evening was warm and starry, and Harry breathed deep with pleasure, full of gratitude that he had a place like Hogwarts to escape to.
All of a sudden, a figure loomed out of the crowd, tall, with a swirling black cloak. "Potter!" Harry had never seen Professor Snape look quite so worried before. "Where is your brother?"
"Sorry, but I've no idea. I couldn't find him on the train."
"Damn!" the beaky man exclaimed. "Why can't he be more like you?" he demanded as he turned on his heel and stalked away.
"Sorry, sir!" Harry called after him. "I wish he was!"
"What was that about?" Roderick wondered as they jostled off towards the horseless carriages.
"Whatever it is, it doesn't bode well for Tom not getting detention," Harry muttered, a little flower of vindictive pleasure blooming in his heart.
"I hesitate to be repetitive, but do you remember my cat in the creamery comment…?" Roderick asked, referring to Harry's expression, which was smug.
All the wonderful, familiar smells of Hogwarts wafted over him as they stepped into the Entry Hall: cold stone, candle wax, and old parchment. They waved to everyone they knew as they made their way down between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables: Tracey and Zula across the room with the Slytherins; Harry spotted Katie in the middle of a tight little knot of Gryffindor girls; Harry and Roderick greeted the rest of the Quidditch team: Abigail, Chet, Chaz and Roger, and Cho. Lawrence, Andrew and Will were already engaged in a heated discussion of whether or not Lawrence should ask out Beverly Moore, a girl in Delf's dorm.
Roderick pointed out that Professor McGonagall was absent from the teacher's table and wondered if she was involved in Tom and Ron's absence somehow, but Delf reminded him that she was probably collecting Astoria and the rest of the first years, not stringing Tom and Ron up by their thumbnails in the dungeons, as she should have been.
As if on cue, the main doors at the end of the hall burst open and Professor McGonagall strode in, trailing a straggly queue of new students in her wake. There was Astoria, pale but with her chin up; Ginny, a red-headed beacon of Weasley-dom; Colin Creevey tried to look at everything at once, his mouth hanging open (Harry half anticipated Peeves to throw something in it); a girl with floaty blonde hair looked around with detached interest; and several dozen others, ranging from terrified to excited.
The Sorting Hat gave its song as usual, and McGonagall called the first name. "Do you think Dumbledore sits in his office all day and talks to the Hat?" Roderick whispered from across the table.
The Hat yelled "Gryffindor!" and the crowd clapped.
Delf giggled. "What if once when he was talking to the Hat, he fell asleep and it whispered in his ear and gave him really weird dreams?"
"Or creepy ones," Harry put in.
"Or dirty ones," Roderick suggested, and they had the stuff their napkins in their faces to keep from laughing aloud and interrupting the Sorting.
Colin Creevey went to Gryffindor, as Harry had guessed; Delf correctly predicted Astoria going to Slytherin; the blond girl Harry had noted was called Luna Lovegood, and the name stuck in his head for some reason; Ginny, of course, went to Gryffindor, and the twins cheered loudly.
Afterwards, Dumbledore stood up (they all had to bury their faces in their napkins again) and gave his usual welcome address. He introduced Professor Lockheart (now in robes of aquamarine), and the new Head Boy and Girl, Patrick Kapp of Gryffindor and Ursula Williams of Slytherin.
"I liked having the Head Girl be from Ravenclaw," Roderick complained as the feast appeared before them.
"Yeah, Riley was great," Delf agreed, already stabbing meat for herself from a platter of London broil.
"You know who was great," Harry said. "Pass those potatoes please—was Aaron Yatsumoto. Head Boy our first year, Hufflepuff, remember? He was the one who caught me coming back from the Forest that time."
"You only like him because he didn't rat on you," Roderick objected.
"Well, yeah. What other reason is there to like a Head Boy or Girl? It's not our abilities, but our choices that define us," he said airily.
Delf peered at him from over the rim of her goblet. "Where did that come from?"
"Pulled it right out of my—"
A distant wooden crunch was suddenly heard to echo up from the grounds, followed by several violent metallic crashes and the sound of breaking glass. The Hall was silent. Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore all got up at once and hurried out a side door.
"Three guesses what that was," Roderick muttered. "First two don't count."
"Tom and Ron's dramatic entrance," Harry replied, glancing at Gryffindor table and finding that the twins were looking back at him. Fred raised his eyebrows, and Harry rolled his eyes. George grimaced. Silent communication for agreeing 'Our brothers are blithering idiots'.
But soon after that it was time to head up to bed. Most of their year finished early and went upstairs together.
"What colour are your knickers?" the knocker asked a startled Kelly Middlebrow.
"Er… blue and pink?" she stammered.
"Wrong!" the knocker screamed. "You're not wearing any!" With that, Peeves appeared out of the grain of the wood and sailed down the hallway, shrieking dirty rhymes at the top of his non-existent lungs.
"My, but that was rude," said a voice behind their (rather shell-shocked) group. All ten of them turned to see the blond girl Harry had noticed at dinner standing behind them. Now that she was closer, he saw that she had fake radishes for earrings, and a necklace of Butterbeer bottle corks threaded on floss for a necklace. "Hello. Are you all Ravenclaws as well then?"
"Yeah," Harry answered. "We're the fourth-years. You're Luna Lovegood, right?"
"Yes. Is it true that the door asks you a riddle before you can get in the common room?"
"Yes. And if you can't get it, it won't let you in. You wouldn't have learnt anything."
Several of his class-mates spontaneously recited "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure!" Harry laughed along with his friends.
"Has it asked it yet?" the girl inquired.
"No."
She stepped through the skeptical fourth-years and addressed herself to the eagle-shaped knocker. "May I get in, please?"
"Which has more power, hate or love?"
"That's more like it," Kelly grumbled. "Knickers indeed…"
"As both are impermanent and each can become its opposite, neither has more power than the other," Luna said steadily.
"Well-reasoned," the knocker replied, and the door swung open.
The dumbfounded upperclassmen filed in after the diminutive new student.
"The girls' stairs are there. The first years have the number one on their door," Helen Cybele told her kindly.
"Thank you," Luna said, and Harry and the others watched her mount the stairs in perfect self-control.
"Luna Lovegood," Amanda Long giggled as the door closed behind the girl. "Loony Lovegood, more like."
"Lovegood!" Harry exclaimed, slapping his forehead. "That's where I know the name from! That's the name of the person who edits The Quibbler!"
Comprehension dawned on Delf and Roderick's faces even as derision crossed some of the others.
"The Quibbler?" Amanda repeated. "My aunt reads that, and she's nutty."
"Our tutor's really into it, we don't read it ourselves," Roderick explained.
"If Luna's anything like whoever edits The Quibbler, she's an odd duck," Harry commented thoughtfully. "But she seemed alright, don't you think?"
Will held his hand out with the palm up and mimed stamping something onto it. "Harry Potter Seal of Approval: granted."
Harry laughed. "Damn! Now I want one of those!"
-o-
Harry awoke before his dorm-mates the next day, as usual. He liked to do an extra-long meditation on the first day of classes. Diving back into academia seemed easier that way.
As such, he was late arriving to breakfast, and had barely plopped down across from Delf and Roderick before a nearly earsplitting explosion of noise echoed through the hall. People cried out inaudibly and covered their ears. Several ducked under the table. The cacophony began with "THOMAS EVANS POTTER!" in what was clearly Lily's furious voice, and then another voice joined in, and only random intermittent words could be heard. Both voices said 'father' quite a lot, along with 'car', 'insane', 'flying', 'killed', and 'appalled'.
He heard Lily's voice say "—rebelling like Harry?" and then the other voice (Mrs. Weasley's, he now heard) sang out "—weren't for Mr. Potter, you father would be facing an inquiry—!" and for a minute more they perfectly canceled each other out so that nothing could be heard.
Then Lily's voice dropped out, and Mrs. Weasley finished up with "…Ginny, dear, congratulations on making it into Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud."
Harry's ears were ringing, but he had an enormous grin on his face as he finished his breakfast. So Tom really had got what was coming to him. What a marked improvement from the troll incident.
They got their class schedules that morning as well: they had all dropped Divination, given that none of them had learned the slightest thing last year. Monday began with double Transfiguration with Gryffindor and ended with Astronomy with Gryffindor again, with Care of Magical Creatures for Harry and Roderick and Potions for them all with Slytherin in between.
They had to wait till Wednesday before Lockheart's Defense Against the Dark Arts. By then, the whole school knew about how he'd loosed a cage full of pixies on his first ever class (which, Harry understood, happened to be Tom's). Every bit of their previous trepidation had been justified. Lockheart's idea of a class was to have them read the first three chapters of his book Voyaging With Vampires and then give a quiz on it. Some of the questions were:
What is Gilderoy Lockheart's middle name? (Unspecified in the reading)
What is Gilderoy Lockheart's secret ambition? (To win Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award six times)
What is Gilderoy Lockheart's favorite colour? (Contradicted twice)
What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockheart's greatest accomplishment to date? (not enough information yet)
Which of Gilderoy Lockheart's amazing qualities enabled him to commune with the vampires where others failed? (Not defined)
And about fifty other such nonsensical questions.
Harry, Roderick and Delf passed notes establishing an emergency study group in the common room later that night. Later on, they even wrote to Master Jerome requesting more appropriate reading material, and he sent them a list of four books, one per quarter, that would keep them on schedule for if they actually had a competent professor.
Before long, two weeks had passed and it was time for all the Quidditch teams who needed new players to hold tryouts. Harry was thankful that Ravenclaw wouldn't have to replace anyone, as their oldest players were only going into sixth year. But Slytherin and Gryffindor both needed new Seekers, and Hufflepuff was down a Beater and a Keeper. Abigail usually asked for at least one player to attend other teams' tryouts to get a feel for what the new opposition looked like, but this time Harry volunteered. It gave him an excuse to hang out with Katie.
It was a sunny Saturday in mid-September and Harry was walking down to the pitch, accompanied by Katie, Angelina, Alicia, the twins, and Delf, who had decided to come along for some inexplicable reason. George and Fred were flirting it up and making Angelina and Alicia laugh. Harry had his arm over Katie's shoulder and was carrying her broom for her, and Delf stalked along behind the group with her arms crossed. Harry wondered why she was coming if it put her in such a bad temper, but didn't dwell on it.
Oliver was already dressed and on the pitch when his team arrived, waving bossily at the gaggle of prospective Seekers. Harry noticed Tom with his distinctive Nimbus 2001 at the centre of the crowd. He also noticed that most of the crowd was paying more attention to the broom than to Oliver.
Harry and Delf stood aside as the Gryffindor team took the pitch. Oliver had a penchant for long team talks, Harry knew, so he wasn't surprised that their huddle lasted more than ten whole minutes. Hermione and Ron wandered towards them from the stands, obviously there to watch Tom try out, and greetings were exchanged.
But before the huddle even broke, trouble arrived in the form of the Slytherin team. Their previous Seeker, a boy named Kent White, had graduated the previous year, and they were now on the search for a new one. How that involved them coming to the Gryffindor tryouts, Harry couldn't fathom, and watched the developing scene with interest. Fred saw the approaching enemies first, and signaled to the rest of his team, who all straightened up and faced the newcomers warily.
Harry couldn't hear the exchange from his position at the far side of the pitch, but he'd wager it wasn't a friendly one. And what the hell was Draco…? Oh, that's right.
"I'd forgotten Roderick mentioned his dad bought Draco on to the team," Harry murmured to Delf as Ron and Hermione hurried across the grass to back up their House's honor. "You see? They all have Nimbus two-thousand-ones."
Some drama was unfolding between Tom and Draco, as anyone with half a brain could have anticipated. Watching carefully, Harry saw Hermione step in and address herself to the blonde Slytherin. Draco snapped something back, and Ron got involved, drawing his wand and yelling something—
An explosion of yellow light, and Ron was thrown reeling through the air, end over end, before crashing in an undignified heap only a few meters from Harry and Delf, who quickly hurried over to him.
His freckles stood out like beacons on his sheet-pale face, and it took him several seconds to get his breath back. Shouting, Tom, Hermione, the twins, and the rest of the Quidditch team rushed over just in time to see Ron turn an interesting shade of green, roll over, and narf up a slug. Several slugs, actually. As one, the crowd recoiled in disgust. Harry heard Draco and the Slytherin team laughing.
"We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione said shrilly.
"Nope," Harry countered, heaving the limp Ron to his feet. "Hagrid's is closer."
"Hagrid's?" Tom squawked, hurrying after Harry. "But you saw him: he's puking slugs!"
"Exactly why Hagrid's is a good idea," Harry retorted. "Just trust me here, will you?"
"Tryouts postponed!" he heard Oliver shouting as he left the pitch with Ron barely hanging on to his shoulder and Tom and Hermione treading after him like anxious shadows.
"HAGRID!" he bellowed as they rounded the last curve towards Hagrid's house. "Got a patient in need of your medical expertise!"
The door to Hagrid's house flew open. "Shit!" Harry hissed, and swiftly pushed Ron over behind a mulberry bush. It was Lockheart.
"Ha-ha!" the man exclaimed. "Thomas!" Harry glanced at Hermione, expecting to share an 'and-what-are-we-chopped-liver?' look, but she was looking at the professor with a slightly glazed expression and didn't notice. "Medical expertise, is it? Well, let me say, I'm just the man for the job! What can I do you for? Eh?"
"Er," said Tom.
"Medical expertise is what we call Hagrid's tea blend," Harry invented. He sounded quite off the bottle about it, he was pleased to hear. "Have you tasted it, professor? Quite something."
"Oh." Lockheart looked ridiculously put out. "I was actually just leaving. Have a pleasant afternoon, children." He swept past them up the path. Harry held his breath till he was around the bend, for fear that he'd glance back and spot Ron, who was coughing slugs all over the grass.
Hagrid had replaced Lockheart in the doorway, and looked considerably pleased to see them, even after Harry and Tom hauled Ron out of the mulberry bushes and his problem became evident.
"Bin wonderin' where you got yerself off ter," he said as he shut the door behind them. "Now what's yer trouble?"
"Ron's wand backfired and now he's retching slugs," Harry said succinctly.
"Well, better out than in, eh?" Hagrid said jovially, fetching a large copper pot from a peg in the wall and placing it conveniently under Ron's face. A slug promptly plopped into the bottom.
"So not that I'm questioning your motives or anything, but why exactly did you try to curse Draco?" Harry asked, crossing his arms and leaning on a convenient barrel.
"Ah, zat what thi' is about? No one needs a reason ter curse him," Hagrid muttered.
"Draco called me something," Hermione said. "I don't know what it meant, but it must have been really bad—"
"It was," Ron croaked from the depths of the pot.
Tom saved his friend from having to say any more: "He called her a Mudblood."
"He didn't!" Harry and Hagrid protested together.
"He did," Hermione said. "But I don't know what it meant. I could tell it was really rude, of course—"
"It's about the worst thing he could think of," Ron gasped, coming back up. "'Mudblood's a really foul name for a Muggle-born." More slugs. "Some wizards—like the Malfoys—think they're better than everyone else because they're pure-blood. Ulp—" More slugs.
"Watch your generalizations," Harry said sternly.
Tom glared at him. "He's puking slugs, Harry. Not the time."
"Listen, Hermione," Harry said, ignoring his brother. "If he ever calls you that again, you must punch him right in the nose, do you hear? He'll thank you in the end." Tom scoffed. "Well, he may not, but everyone else will," Harry amended. Hermione giggled.
"It's a disgusting thing to call someone." Ron had missed the topic change. "Plus it's mad. Most wizards are half-blood by now. If we hadn't married Muggles, we'd've died out." Then he retched again and ducked back out of sight.
"Anyone with common sense knows that," Harry said patiently.
"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron," said Hagrid loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."
Harry agreed, though Tom and Hermione looked quite perfectly appalled. Yes, perhaps vomiting slugs was disagreeable, but it was miles better than anything Lucius Malfoy would have cooked up.
"Anyway, I've things to do, like homework," Harry injected during the following pause, and made for the door.
"Yer leavin'?" Hagrid sounded hurt. "But I jus' made a batch of treacle toffee."
Harry only managed to escape by taking some to go. As he closed the door behind himself, he heard Hermione ask, "So, what did, um, Professor Lockheart want, Hagrid?" and Hagrid gave a contemptuous snort. Harry was half-tempted to stay and bad-mouth the man, but the pull of other obligations was stronger. Like he had to find Katie and apologize for leaving her at the Quidditch tryouts, even though he obviously had a good excuse. It was just manners.
He made his way up to the pitch (quietly disposing of the lump of treacle toffee under a bush along the way), wondering where he'd be most likely to find Katie. It was too early for supper yet, but perhaps the Library? Or since the weather was nice, somewhere around the grounds?
Turns out she had solved the problem by just waiting for him at the pitch. She was still in her Quidditch gear, but she looked very pretty and innocent as she sat on a railing swinging her legs and staring off towards the mountains.
"Hey," he called.
She jerked with surprise, wobbled on the rail, and steadied herself before hopping off it anyway. "Hi," she said back, smiling as she crossed to him. "How's Ron?"
Harry grimaced. "He'll live. It won't be pleasant for the next few hours, but he'll live."
"That's good," she said as they headed back up towards the castle. "Anyway, the interesting stuff only happened once you had gone."
"Interesting stuff?" he repeated quizzically.
"Yeah," she said, smiling her infectious smile and clearly enjoying his confusion.
"Might you elaborate?" he finally asked.
"Well, since you asked," she said, laughing. "Once you had gone and everyone had pretty much cleared out, your friend Daphne came up to me and said that it'll be odd having another girl in the group when we go to Hogsmeade."
"If she's afraid of being the awkward hanger on, I wonder why she and Roderick don't just go together. I mean, they're obviously interested in each other."
"Well, hold on. Right then Oliver was coming out of the dressing room, and he said 'Well, you could go with me'."
"Oh! And what did she say?"
"She said, 'I could. Are you asking?'"
Harry laughed. "That sounds like her."
"And then he said 'I am. Daphne, would you go to Hogsmeade with me?'"
"Well!" Harry was moderately stunned.
"I know! You could've knocked me over with a quill! I've never heard Oliver so polite!"
"He does always seem a bit… manic."
"Putting it kindly. What's Abigail like as a Captain?"
"Fine, as far as Captains go. I think there's always a prerequisite for bossiness and micromanagement, but she's alright. Lewis Montgomery was before her, and he was a bit of a nutter, and before him was Arthur Valentine, and he didn't even want to let me on at first."
Katie laughed. "I bet he's licking the boots of whoever convinced him otherwise!"
"I know I am," Harry agreed, smiling.
Katie sighed. "I wish we could find a Seeker half as good as you. We haven't beaten Slytherin in eight years, you know? And we've been third or last for the past three years thanks to you."
"Sorry," Harry said ruefully.
"No, it's fine. It's amazing to watch you play. It's just frustrating that we can't find someone as good. Oliver was in such a temper last year when Tom didn't measure up."
Harry laughed. "Thanks. So when did tryouts get rescheduled for?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. Do you reckon Tom's broom will make him any better? Or just make up for him not being any good?"
"No," Harry replied promptly.
"I didn't think so," she said sadly.
They had made it up to the castle by then, and Harry walked her up to Gryffindor Tower so that she could change out of her Quidditch gear.
"Have you got plans for the rest of the day?" she asked as they stopped outside the Fat Lady.
"Yeah, I'm going to do some extra Defense reading. Lockheart's books are bogus. I want to actually learn something this year."
She shook her head and muttered, "Ravenclaws." Harry pretended to be offended, and then they exchanged cheerful goodbyes.
Of course, whichever genius had designed Hogwarts castle had made it impossible to move from Gryffindor Tower to Ravenclaw Tower directly without descending five storeys, and not even the myriad of secret passageways made it faster. He was trotting along the second-floor corridor on the east side when he suddenly heard something: a voice, a voice to chill the bone-marrow, a voice of breath-taking, ice-cold venom.
"Come… come to me… let me rip you… let me tear you…"
His head jerked around. Who? What? The hallway was deserted.
"Bite you… crush you…kill you…"
"Peeves!" he said loudly, and was met by no comforting cackling laughter, or rude whistles or rhymes. But the voice disappeared. Or rather, it faded. Harry stood stock-still. When the voice did not return, he shook himself and sped along the corridor, thinking how he didn't brag about Hogwarts' "All Things Creepy and Inexplicable Section" when he met the Muggle-borns each summer.
Roderick was sitting in the common room when Harry arrived back. He was staring into one of the fires quite fixedly, as if it was saying something important.
"You look preoccupied," Harry noted as he sank down next to his friend. Roderick started.
"There you are! I've been all over the castle looking for you. Have I ever got news!"
"It's probably the same thing I just heard! On three. One, two…"
"I have a date for Hogsmeade," Roderick said.
"Oliver Wood asked Delf out," Harry said at the same time.
"What?" they chorused.
"You go first," Harry demanded, massively interested.
"Alright, well. I was wandering around the castle looking for you and Delf because I'd forgotten you went to the Gryffindor tryouts, when this girl came up and practically told me we're going to Hogsmeade together."
"'Told—'? Who is this girl?"
"Her name is Athenias Ash. She's a fifth year Slytherin. Sort of curly black hair, really tall, a bit heavy set?"
"How do we know her?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"We don't. Right after, I went and found Tracey and asked who she was based on what she looked like."
Harry snorted. "That's promising."
"Yeah," Roderick agreed, sounding apprehensive and sheepish and excited all at once. "Anyway, what's this about Oliver Wood?"
"Oh! He's asked out Delf!"
"He's done what?" Roderick jerked up straight.
"I know! Mental, right?"
"And you're alright with that?" Roderick sounded oddly dubious.
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Um. No reason. So did you see him ask her?"
"No. I had to take Ron Weasley to Hagrid's—Ron's puking slugs, by the way—" Roderick dismissed this news with a flick of his fingers. "—and when I was coming back up, Katie told me all about it. She said she's never heard Oliver so polite."
"I've never heard Oliver polite, full stop," Roderick countered. "Odd though: he's not her type at all."
"Delf has a type?" Harry asked.
"Yeah. You know: guys who aren't nearly three years older than her, and who she knows really well. Nothing too specific."
"I didn't know that. Are you sure you're okay with this? I mean, I can tell you and she have… a sort of thing."
Roderick stared at him incredulously. "You're joking. Harry, Delf and I literally think of each other as siblings. We do not have any sort of 'thing'."
Harry blinked. "Oh."
Roderick laughed. "Honestly, mate, you're about the thickest thing since Professor Binn's final exam last year."
"I am not," Harry retorted hotly, though more because he felt foolish than because he took offense.
Just then, the door to one of the girls' dorms opened and closed behind them. They craned their heads around to see Delf coming down the stairs.
"Hello, boys," she said, approaching their couch. "You'll never guess what just happened." Oddly, her eyes were hazel, which meant worried.
"Oliver Wood asked you out," Roderick said.
"And you agreed," Harry finished.
Her mouth dropped open.
"Katie told me," Harry said apologetically.
"And he told me," Roderick added.
"Oh," she said stiffly, and her eyes melted from orange (angry) to grey (sad), and back and then forth again.
"Don't be cross though," Harry implored. "We're very excited for you."
"Is me seeing him… alright with you?" she asked hesitantly, and Roderick shot her one of those looks that had made Harry think they had a thing.
"You don't need our permission to date," Harry said, laughing. "Hell, maybe you can make an improvement on him."
"Maybe… since it's the first Hogsmeade trip this year, we could all just go together?" she said hopefully. Her eyes were the color of wet slate. "I could turn down Oliver, and you could… postpone Katie… I mean, poor Roderick doesn't have a date. How awkward is that for him?"
"I do actually have a date," Roderick muttered, and responded to her dumbfounded expression by giving her a short version of what he'd told Harry.
The silence as they went down to supper shortly afterwards was strangely tense.
-o-
The next evening, the owl to Potter Manor bore Tom's first letter of the year:
Dear Mum and Dad,
I'm heartbroken. I didn't make Seeker on the Gryffindor team for the second year in a row.
"Oh, the poor thing. I hope he doesn't take it too hard."
How could they be so blind to my obvious talent? Another thing that made me mad was that Draco Malfoy bought everyone on his House's team Nimbus 2001s! And they made him Seeker for it! Dad, could you do that for me?
"Did he really…?"
"This is… a problem…"
I'm not serious.
"Oh thank goodness…"
It would be nice to have a certain way to get on the team, though I know honor must always come first. I would have tried out for Chaser or Keeper or something, but Oliver Woods is already Keeper, and he's Captain, so no luck. And the Weasley twins are our Beaters. And we also have three Chasers who everyone thinks works really well together. They're all girls. Harry's dating one.
"Wait, what?!" Lily shouted.
"He moves fast–! I mean: that's terrible…. Why didn't he tell us?"
"Nice save, dear."
"Er… right…."
I wouldn't have a problem with it except for they're in different Houses. I think he's using her for inside Quidditch info.
"I knew it! He gets this from you, you know!"
"I was never like that! Now, if she was a Slytherin –"
"That's EXACTLY what I mean!"
Love, Tom
A/N
A little short and light on plot this week, but setting up the social scene that's going to play out over the rest of the year is important too :)
(And to anyone who thought the chapter title implied he was going to wake up and smell the roses about Delf... uh... sorry.)
Chapter 10, "Dating and Disasters", goes up next Saturday!
Half credit for this story goes to my friend fire1: we developed and outlined this idea together and there's no way it would exist without her. Go check her page out!
All characters are owned by JK Rowling, Warner Bros, etc.
E.I. signing out
