Chapter Thirty-Nine
Musical Love Letter
Hannah:
The table at the front of the room is filled with over a dozen different Muggle items, each varying in size, weight and colour. Hannah has seen them before, when the class first had to pick their assignments. They each got to choose one—except, of course, for Harry and Malfoy who had to share—and were tasked with finding out it's purpose.
Three months should have been enough time to figure out some little Muggle item, but seeing as Hannah is still not one hundred percent sure what the function of the strange L-shaped black object actually was, she's obviously underestimated how easy this would be.
She sighs and wishes she'd just done what Justin did and asked Harry.
She glances over at the Gryffindor, wondering if she can at least ask him if she's close, but he and Malfoy are too busy scowling at each other to notice her trying to catch Harry's attention.
'Hello everyone,' says Professor Burbage, bustling into the room late as usual.
She has an armful of things that scatter all over the place as she drops them onto her desk. She straightens up, sweeps her hair out of her face and turns to check the display table—all the while chattering away like an excitable first year.
'Sorry I'm late class, I had to pick up some new material for next weeks class project. Alright, time for our individual presentations. Everyone got their projects ready? Oh, yes all on the table. Well done. Well, first up to present will be, let's see…how about Miss Bones, with her Muggle flip-phone.'
Next to Hannah, Susan sighs and mutters something about always being first under her breath. Hannah grins and gives her a thumbs up. Susan offers her a wry smile and heads up to the front of the class.
Her presentation is short and efficient (as all Susan's work is), and—judging by the pleased smile on Professor Burbage's face, her description of a device that "allows Muggles to communicate by voice over vast distances" is right on the money.
Hannah fidgets in her chair and hopes she isn't next.
They go through three more presentations with Professor Burbage smiling and nodding along. They all pass.
Until Zacharius Smith gets up. He heads up to the front of the room with his usual flare for the dramatic. Hannah catches Susan's eye again and they both roll their eyes.
Zach picks up his item. A strange L-shaped black object. The handle is narrow, but the top half, the half that he turns and points toward the class has a round opening in it.
'This,' says Zach, holding up the item with an ominous expression, 'is an extremely dangerous device. It can kill in an instant. All they have to do is point it at someone, pull the trigger and bam! That person is dead. What's it's name, you ask? The Muggles call a gun. It's—Something funny, Potter?'
Harry, who is hunched over, shoulders shaking as he tries unsuccessfully to stifle his snickers, shakes his head. 'Nope,' he chokes out.
Zach glares at him and raises the gun back up again. 'As I was saying, this gun—'
Harry completely dissolves into laughter. He drops his head onto the table, burying his face in the crook of his arm in an attempt to muffle the almost hysterical giggles. Next to him, Malfoy mutters something no one else can hear, and Harry shakes his head, still laughing.
'Now, Mr Potter,' Professor Burbage reprimands, though doesn't seem to know how to follow this statement.
She's the only one in the class who looks amused, and Hannah wonders if she's amused by Harry or by Zach's presentation.
Professor Burbage sighs, and glances over at Zach with an odd little half smile. 'Perhaps you should finish your presentation another time, Zach. After you've done more research.'
Zach's face turns beat red, and Hannah can almost hear the grinding of his teeth. 'I have done research. Extensively. Guns are no laughing matter, you know. You know more Muggles die from guns than any other cause? They're dangerous! And they all have them. It's almost scary, actually. I did a thorough work up. I found how they were made, what they were used for, how many people have them, where to access them—'
Harry (who's managed to calm down but is still grinning like a maniac) cuts Zach off, 'Ever look at a picture?'
'What?'
'A picture. You know, a photo or a drawing of a gun. I'm guessing you didn't bother to look for one.'
'Why would I need a picture when I have one?'
Harry's grin, if possible, widens.
It's not a very Gruffindorish grin. In fact, Hannah would say that it's somewhat Slytherin-like what with the almost vindictive pleasure that creeps into Harry's expression. That self-satisfied contempt of knowing something someone else didn't. She knows that Harry and Zach don't get along well, but she hadn't realised until this moment quite how much they disliked each other.
'That's not a gun,' says Harry; and if his smile was Slytherin, his tone is pure Malfoy.
'Of course it is,' snaps Zach. 'Look Potter you may think you know everything just because—'
'Zach,' interrupts Professor Burbage, and gives him a rueful smile. 'Potter is right. It's not a gun.'
'I…yes it is,' Zach insists, staring at her.
She shakes her head, a pitying look on her face. 'I'm afraid you'll have to redo the assignment.'
'But...no, no it has to be a gun. I...I did the research...'
Harry chuckles again. 'It's really, really not.'
'Well then what is it?' drawls Malfoy in a bored voice. 'Tell us so we can get on with this.'
Harry glances sideways at him, grinning from ear to ear, clearly still delighted by the whole thing. 'It's a hairdryer.'
'What's a hairdryer?' asks Lisa.
'Merlin even I can work that one out,' mutters Malfoy, rolling his eyes. 'It's called a hairdryer. Obviously it dries hair.'
Harry nods, grinning. 'You point that circular end at your hair, turn it on and it blows hot air at you.'
'And that dries hair?' asks Ernie doubtfully.
'Well yeah. I mean it takes ages, but it does the job.'
'But—'
'How about we hear the next presentation,' interrupts Professer Burbage. 'Mr Smith you may redo your assignment, so long as you do the research properly this time. I think Mr Potter has given you enough to go on now.'
She says this last part wryly, shooting a quick look at Harry to indicate that he's explained enough about the function of a hairdryer.
'I…sure…' says Zach, somewhat deflated.
'Very good,' says Professor Burbage brightly. 'Well, how about we hear from…Hannah, why don't you go next?'
Hannah takes a deep breath and nods. 'Alright,' she says in a small voice.
She gets up and heads to the front of the class, her hands jittering and sweaty. She wipes her hands on her skirt and picks up her assignment.
'The item I chose,' she says, and is relieved that her voice isn't as shaky as she feels, 'is a Muggle Camera. Even though it looks really different, they work pretty much the same way ours do, except this one prints the photo out as well. I think. I didn't actually manage to get it to work. Um, anyway, that's uh, mostly it. Does anyone have any questions?'
No one did. Apparently Muggle camera's weren't different enough from Wizard technology for anyone to show an interest in. Hannah sighs in relief, and retakes her seat.
'Well it looks like that just leaves Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy,' Professor Burbage says, looking over at the project table where a single item remains.
She turns to look at Harry and Malfoy with an expectant, if trepidatious smile. Hannah glances at them too, and hopes that they aren't going to spend the rest of the class arguing. Conflict makes her nervous; and when she's nervous, she sweats.
Harry's gaze flicks toward Malfoy and away again.
Over the course of six years, Hannah hasn't had much occasion to spend any significant time with Harry, but even so, through their limited interaction in class and in the DA, she had always thought him roguish and reckless. He is a magnet for trouble for sure, with all the classic markers of a Gryffindor: never running from a fight, mouthing off to teachers, fighting with Slytherin's.
Yet, over the last few months of sharing Muggle Studies with him, Hannah has begun to notice something else. Something less hero-like and more approachable.
Without the overpowering presence of "The Golden Trio" and the shroud of mystery and conspiracy that seemed to follow the three of them everywhere, Hannah finds herself paying more attention to him, simply because she is able to interact with him more; and she's learned that he isn't that much different from her.
He's funny in a self-deprecating, somewhat moody kind of way. He certainly never tires of riling Malfoy up, goading the boy until he explodes into a series of insults and reprimands that instead of making Harry angry, make him grin in amusement—as if daring Malfoy to do better.
Most surprisingly, however, is the fact that Harry doesn't seem to like conflict. Oh, he argues with Malfoy all the time, but that's different. It's like a game they play. The constant teasing back and forth that is both barbed and caustic and yet…almost friendly.
It's real conflict that Harry doesn't like. Oh, he hides it well, but she—who hides from even the slightest hint of friction—can recognise the signs. It's the way his shoulders always hunch, curling inwards as if trying to make himself smaller whenever someone's annoyance or disappointment becomes apparent. The way his head droops, ducking away from attention. The way his voice lowers, becoming soft and jaded.
It's almost a comfort to Hannah to see this. To realise that the Boy-Who-Lived is just as bit a shy and nervous teenager as she is—even if he is far better at hiding it.
That's why, when Harry's gaze flicks away from Malfoy with that nervous tightening across his shoulders, she begins to worry. She can't help it.
The two boys make their way to the front of the class, neither even looking at each other. Malfoy picks up the little device off the table and turns around. He weighs it in his hand, purses his lips and glances sideways, not quite looking at Harry.
Harry nods, coughs and steps forward. 'Er, right,' he says, and scrubs a hand through his hair (another nervous tic of his). 'So, uh, Draco—er, Malfoy and I got this Walkman. It's, uh, kind of like a radio, I guess. Muggles use it to play music. They insert one of these—a CD—and it plays music through these little things here called headphones. Since I know how they're supposed to work, Malfoy was able to make it work using Rune work. Um…'
Harry glances at Malfoy, shifting his weight back and forth from foot to foot.
'Muggle technology doesn't work well around magic because of how it functions,' says Malfoy in a bland, bored voice, staring at the back of the room without interest. 'Magic interferes with the energy source, disrupting the normal flow, and making Muggle items go haywire. Runes can be used to dampen this effect, and allow muggle items to function properly.'
'Wait,' says Ernie, straightening up in his seat. 'You can make muggle stuff work?'
Malfoy blinks and drops his gaze to Ernie, blue eyes narrowing. 'That is what I just said.'
'If we can make muggle technology work, why don't wizards use more of it?' asks Lisa, unperturbed by Malfoy's general unpleasantness.
'Because it's inconvenient,' says Malfoy. 'It took me two weeks to figure out the correct Runes to make this work and that was with Potter's knowledge of how to make it work. It's not a one fix solution. Every device needs a specific combination to allow it to function correctly.'
'But,' says Lisa, 'if you had another one of these…Walkmans, you could use the same Runes to make it work, couldn't you?'
Malfoy shrugs. 'So long as both devices function in a similar fashion, I suppose so. Rune-work is more of an art rather than a set of rules.'
Lisa smirks. 'I know. I take Runes. To be honest, I'm surprised you were able to pull this off seeing as you're not taking it this year.'
Harry winces, his feet shuffling along the floor as he shifts backwards slightly.
'Yeah well, it's not like a had a choice in that matter,' Malfoy mutters, rolling his eyes. 'And just because I'm not taking the class doesn't mean I'm an idiot. I still have the books. Making Muggle technology work with magic is a pain in the arse, and so inconvenient.'
'Malfoy,' sighs Professor Burbage, shaking her head. 'Watch your language.'
Malfoy scowls but manages not to say anything insulting.
'Er, right,' says Harry. 'Well, uh…like Malfoy said we, uh, got it working. And, well, I kinda thought we had to be more detailed with what Muggles use stuff for so, uh,' he flushes, and runs a hand through his hair again. 'Well, I brought this CD I made. See, Muggles have this custom to make what they call mixtapes. They put all these specific songs on a CD, and give it to someone they like, and the idea is to make the person to listening to the songs think of the person who gave them the CD.'
Hannah, who loves music, feels an odd sort of warmth at the idea. 'They give songs to people they have feelings for?' she asks. 'That's kind of sweet. Like writing a love letter, but with music.'
Zach turns to stare at her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. 'It sounds ridiculous. A love letter of music?'
Hannah pokes her tongue out at him. 'I think it's nice.'
'It's basically just really bad flirting, right?' asks Zach turning back to the boys.
Harry blinks. 'Erm, I guess it's kind of like flirting. Yeah. Anyway, we got it to work so if anyone wants to give it a go—'
'You mean listen to the love tape.'
'Mix CD,' says Harry, his tone slightly annoyed.
'That you made?'
'I didn't make the songs,' says Harry, sighing. 'I just stuck them on the CD. It's really not hard.'
'And you gave it to Malfoy...since he actually made it work,' pushes Zach.
'Yeah, that's what I just said.'
'So,' says Zach smirking. 'By your own admission, you're flirting with him?'
Harry's eyes go wide behind his glasses, making the green more prominent than usual. He gapes at Zach, but doesn't manage to say anything. Beside him, Malfoy has gone very, very still.
'Well done, Smith,' Malfoy drawls. 'You figured it out. Potter has been secretly flirting with me through veiled Muggle means...' He trails off, his tone making it obvious how ridiculous the whole thing sounds.
A few people chuckle. Zach, once again, goes beat red.
Hannah shakes her head and wishes he would stop digging himself into holes. He really wasn't that bad a guy, he just had a habit of putting his foot in it.
'If anyone wants to listen to Potter's love letter to me,' says Malfoy with a smirk as he dumps the walkman back on the table. 'Feel free.'
He heads back to his table. Harry, keeping his head low, follows. He slips into his chair and keeps his head bent over his work for the rest of the lesson.
'Well,' says Professor Burbage. 'You all did very well.' She beams around at them all (and seems to forget that not all of them did as well as the rest). 'As a treat, I thought I'd do my own presentation. Now, while all of you did your projects on a muggle item, I did mine on a Muggle place. Now, if you all come up here, I have before you an exact replica of something called an amusement park.'
They all head up to the front of the room to see a small, sprawling model display of what can only be described as lights and colour.
Professor Burbage tells explains, telling them all about "carnival games" and "rollercoaster" rides. Things that Hannah can barely comprehend. She stares at the model, at the small locomotive device that shoots around and around a track of twisting and turning rails, wondering how on Earth Muggles had managed to build such a thing.
'Hey,' says Harry, leaning forward. 'This is Thorpe Park.'
'You know it?' asks Professor Burbage with a smile.
Harry flushes as most the class turns to look at him. 'Er, sort of. I went when I was little but, uh, I was…too small for the rides,' he scratches behind his ear, his head ducking. 'I've always wanted to go back.'
'Well I'm sure you'll get the chance,' says Professor Burbage with a bright smile. 'Well, as you can see, class, Muggles can make some pretty extraordinary things.'
The bell goes off, and Hannah steps back out of the way as her classmates hurry to gather their things and head out to break. Harry lingers by the model of the park and Malfoy watches him from their desk, packing up his things distractedly as he frowns at the Gryffindor.
Hannah tries not to watch them, but it's hard not to. She sighs, and swings her bag up onto her shoulder. As she's leaving, though, she hears Harry behind her say,
'So, uh, did you listen to the CD? Because you know I didn't…that wasn't…I only made it for the class. As an example, I mean. Not to…you know.'
'Relax Potter,' Malfoy mutters. 'It doesn't matter.'
Hannah glances back, almost hesitating in the doorway. The tension between them is stifling, and she wants to sit them down and make them talk about it, like Professor Sprout does whenever two Hufflepuffs have a particularly loud row, but she knows it's neither her place, nor would it be appreciated.
She sighs and steps out of the room, wishing that conflict resolution was better handled by the teachers. And especially wishing that other people's conflict didn't bother her quite so much.
A/N: It was so awesome to hear from everyone, I was so thrilled to see so many of you still reading this story - I appreciate it so much and I'm so glad you're enjoying it as much as I am!
I did some checking over the notes and half written chapters I have, and thought I'd let you all know that it turns out I have over thirty chapters still to go for sixth year alone. Seeing as I plan to go into seventh year as well, you'll be happy to know that there is still plenty of story to come :)
