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Harry Potter and the Psychic Serpent
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Chapter Six
Hermione's Reputation
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The next morning they piled into Ministry cars and were driven to Kings Cross station. One by one they casually walked through the barrier between platforms nine and ten in order to reach the magically hidden Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. Harry, Bill and Hermione were the only ones who still needed to go through when suddenly, a tall figure appeared as if out of nowhere, walking flat-footed and stoop-shouldered.
"Viktor!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise, trying to look pleased. She looked sideways at Bill and Harry as if begging them to save her.
"Herm-own-ninny, there you are! I came to see you off."
"Oh, how-how nice," she stammered. "Well, I was just about to go through the barrier. I suppose we could both do it." Viktor Krum took her hand and they calmly walked toward the barrier before vanishing through it. Then Harry and Bill walked toward it together, Harry hauling his trunk on a station trolley and carrying Hedwig's cage in his other hand.
Then suddenly they were all on the platform and the Hogwarts Express was gleaming in the sunshine, beautiful and regal. The train platform was swarming with students in their robes, hauling trunks and owl cages and cat carriers, being hugged and kissed by their parents. Fred and George found their friend Lee Jordan and disappeared into his compartment. Harry and Hermione claimed a compartment with Ron and Ginny, all of them dragging their trunks except for Hermione, whose trunk was being handled by Viktor. They all went back out onto the platform again to say goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Charlie. Mrs. Weasley hugged and kissed Fred and George, who slipped away as soon as possible (it was embarrassing when you were seventeen) and then Ron, who had to stoop for his small mother to reach his cheek. Ginny didn't have to stoop as much as Ron. Mrs. Weasley gave Hermione a hug and kiss too before turning to Harry.
"You look so much like your father—" she started to say, tears in her eyes. "If only your parents could see you, prefect and all." Harry hugged and kissed her quickly, to prevent her saying more. Tears prickled behind his eyelids; he often thought of his parents at times like this but didn't like to talk about it. When she had released him, Bill shook his hand and Charlie slapped his back.
"Be safe," Bill told him, suddenly very serious. Harry nodded.
Charlie smiled. "Would have been nice if one of my brothers had become Gryffindor Quidditch captain, followed in my footsteps, but—I can't complain if it's Harry Potter instead, can I?"
Harry laughed. "I'll try to do a good job."
"No you won't. You'll win the damn Quidditch Cup!"
"No pressure, though," Bill said, elbowing Harry in the ribs. Harry smiled before turning to board the train. Hermione was farther down the platform, talking to Viktor Krum. Harry stepped onto the train and stood in the corridor, waving to the Weasleys through the window.
"Potter!"
He turned; Draco Malfoy strode down the corridor toward him, wearing robes even nicer than the nicest ones in Madam Malkin's shop, which Harry and the twins had bought. Must be custom tailored, he thought. Pinned to Malfoy's robes was a silver badge with a P on it for prefect; Harry's was still in his trunk with his new robes. Harry folded his arms across his chest and glared at Malfoy. For once Crabbe and Goyle weren't with him.
"What're you doing here? The prefects are up front, four private compartments. You're a disgrace to the other prefects!"
"What, because I'm not snooty enough? I'm fine where I am."
He felt Malfoy's eyes on his arms; Harry was wearing yet another black sleeveless T-shirt, Sandy curled around his left upper arm. "What have you been doing, lifting weights?"
"Just honest work."
"Hmm. Manual labor. How Muggle!" He pointed to Sandy. "What's that?"
"Ever heard of a snake, Malfoy? It's only the symbol of your house."
"I mean, is it a pet?"
"No. Sandy is my friend. You don't make a pet of someone you can have conversations with." He let this sink in.
"Oh, right," Malfoy finally said. "Parselmouth. You-Know-Who has his own snake, I've heard. Bigger than that puny thing, of course." Suddenly he stopped and stared out the window. Ron and Ginny were in the corridor, too, also staring out the window.
"Blimey," Ron said. Hermione had started to leave the platform to board the train again, but Viktor Krum caught her hand and pulled her to him. He put his arms around her and leaned over her, tilting her head up and joining his mouth to hers. She seemed like she was trying to get away at first, but then she relaxed into the kiss, her arms around his neck, opening her mouth as Viktor held her face up to his, kissing her deeply. Harry's mouth went dry. Ron's and Malfoy's mouths hung open stupidly. Only Ginny seemed unsurprised.
The train started to move and Hermione broke the kiss, running to hop on. Viktor Krum held his hand up in a goodbye wave, looking stricken at the sight of her leaving. When Hermione stumbled into the corridor, she froze, meeting the gaze of a dozen students who had witnessed the dramatic goodbye kiss between her and the star of the most recent Quidditch World Cup. Her mouth worked soundlessly and she reddened. Finally, Malfoy spoke.
"It's a definite improvement, Granger," he drawled, looking her pointedly up and down. Ron started to pull out his wand, but Harry decided that something else would be faster than magic; he turned to Malfoy and pushed him to the floor, kneeling on his chest and putting his right arm across Malfoy's neck. Malfoy gasped.
"You're cutting off my air," he wheezed, trying to reach his wand before giving up and just trying to remove Harry's arm from his throat, failing. The other students in the corridor pressed against the wall to let someone pass. It was Alicia Spinnet, wearing her Head Girl badge on new robes, looking very stern.
"Potter! Malfoy! Break it up!" Harry removed his arm from Malfoy's throat and rose, generously extending a hand to help Malfoy stand. He ignored it at first, but after struggling unsuccessfully to rise, he took it reluctantly and let go of Harry's hand as quickly as possible once he was on his feet. He clutched at his throat. Alicia stepped closer to them so she could speak more quietly—but it was a scary sort of quiet. "You are both prefects!" she whispered fiercely. "You are supposed to set an example!" She sounded frighteningly like Professor McGonagall. "Malfoy!" she barked. "Get back to your compartment!" She stepped aside so he could go past; he glared over his shoulder at Harry, resentment smoldering in his eyes, still with his hand to his throat. Alicia saw. "Go!" she said again, and Malfoy picked up speed, rudely pushing aside other gawkers, not looking back again. Between the platform kiss and the brawl, many of them seemed to have become planted where they stood.
Alicia looked less stern now, but only a little. "Harry, do I already have to take points from my own house?"
Harry had the good grace to be abashed. "No, Alicia."
"Right, then. Are you and Hermione coming? We have private compartments up front for prefects. One for each house."
Harry looked at Hermione, still standing in the corridor. "I don't think so. We're fine back here."
"Maybe it's just as well. Keeping you away from Malfoy, I mean. Our first meeting is Sunday night at half eight in the anteroom off the Great Hall. Don't be late!" She was standing very close to him; Harry looked down into her face; she seemed to be trying to talk with her eyes; they looked—pleading somehow. Then she shook herself, as if waking from a dream, turning and sweeping down the corridor toward the front of the train, again looking every bit Head Girl. What was that? Harry wondered. The remaining gawkers moved out of her way before turning to stare at Hermione again. Hermione colored once more and ducked into their compartment. Ron, Ginny and Harry followed.
Ginny and Hermione sat on one side of the compartment, Harry and Ron on the other. Hermione took Crookshanks from his carrier and settled him on her lap, stroking his orange fur and looking like she was trying to calm down.
"I wish he hadn't done that," she said quietly.
"Do you mean Viktor or Malfoy?" Ginny asked slyly.
"Well, both," she replied, still petting Crookshanks, not looking up.
"I suppose," said Harry looking at her shining brown curls and the tan limbs showed off by her close-fitting blouse and skirt, "coming from Malfoy, that was something of a compliment."
Hermione grimaced. "Malfoy is the last person I want compliments from. And I still need to get rid of Viktor, remember?"
Ginny smiled slyly. "You didn't look too eager to get rid of him just now on the platform— and you did say in your letters how good at snogging he is…"
"Shut it, Ginny!" Hermione hissed, her face red. Ginny was stunned and hurt, her face crumpling, eyes bright with unshed tears.
"Maybe you should sit up front with the prefects! You wouldn't have to put up with me then!" She turned from Hermione and looked out the window at the passing landscape without seeing it. Hermione immediately looked contrite.
"Ginny, I'm sorry, I..." she trailed off, seeing that Ginny was having none of it. They're not getting along well lately, Harry thought. Hermione sighed.
"Maybe I'll take a nap," she said quietly, leaning back with her eyes closed, continuing to idly pet Crookshanks. Harry looked at Ron, who was gazing at Hermione with such an unmistakably vulnerable expression in his eyes that Harry was shaken at seeing it. Maybe he'll finally say something to her, he thought. How do I feel about that? He didn't know. Then he looked at Ginny, and his heart turned over. Poor Ginny; how do I feel about her now? He wasn't sure.
It was going to be a very confusing year.
#/#/#
When they finally reached Hogsmeade Station they had all calmed down considerably. They'd had a chance to visit with other friends on the train—fellow Gryffindors Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and the Creevey brothers—as well as students from Hufflepuff they knew from Herbology lessons and the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. But because he hadn't gone up to the prefects' compartments, Harry hadn't run into Cho Chang, as they'd discussed the day before. They bought too many sweets and pumpkin pasties but still left room for the feast waiting for them in the Great Hall.
Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry shared a horseless carriage up to the school. Harry entered Hogwarts castle for the fifth time feeling like he was indeed coming home. I'm more than half through school, he thought. After this year, it's just two more, and then—and then what? he wondered. Become an Auror? Play Quidditch professionally? If he lived long enough to finish school. Now that Voldemort was back… He tried not to think about that. One thing at a time. This year I've got the O.W.L.s. That's enough to think about for now.
They entered the Great Hall and sat at their house tables. Harry felt quite conspicuous in his new robes with his silver prefect badge. He had changed on the train, as had Hermione. Ginny and Ron wore second-hand robes; Ron's were fraying at the cuffs.
Hagrid brought in the first-years, stopping to discreetly wave at Harry, Ron and Hermione (though not that discreetly; Hagrid was huge). The Sorting Hat sang a new song, which had once impressed Harry until it was pointed out to him that it had all year to think of a new one and precious little else to do. One by one, rather small-looking boys and girls around eleven years old stepped forward when their names were called, placed the hat on their heads, and were proclaimed Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs or Slytherins. It seemed a very long time since Harry's Sorting.
Crabbe evidently had a little sister—if little could be used to describe Wilhelmina Crabbe, who was the largest eleven-year-old girl Harry had ever seen. She went to Slytherin; no surprise there. A rather small thin boy with curly blond hair was called Flitwick; Harry wondered if he was related to the Charms teacher. Flitwick became a Gryffindor, causing the table to cheer as it had for the previous new members of their house.
In the end, there were eight new Gryffindors, four girls and four boys. In addition to Will Flitwick they now had Andy Donegal and his twin sister Amy (Muggle-born), Dean Thomas's younger sister Jamaica; Barry Bagshot, Peggy Patrick and Jules Quinn, from old wizarding families; and Gillian Lockley, another Muggle-born. The newly-sorted students joined their house tables and squeezed onto the benches, looking expectantly at the head table, where Dumbledore stood.
"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts, everyone! I hope all third-year students have turned in their permission slips, or no visits to Hogsmeade! Now, I don't know what your parents have told you, but—" Harry caught his eye and tried to keep his breathing even. "Hogwarts is one of the safest places you can possibly be. We are here to train you to be the finest witches and wizards anywhere, and we are not in the habit of losing students. That said, I must admit that we did lose a student last year who was competing in the Triwizard Tournament, but his death was not directly connected to the tasks he was required to perform for the competition. He was killed by Lord Voldemort."
The first year students who were from wizarding families erupted with a loud gasp as if uttered by one throat; the Muggle-born first-years looked quizzical. "As I said, Hogwarts is one of the safest places on earth. We ask that you be especially careful, however, when visiting Hogsmeade, and I reserve the right to cancel Hogsmeade visits with no notice and no explanation. If this occurs, please assume that it is for everyone's safety and don't go trying to get around it," he said, staring at Fred and George, who looked at their feet. "Also, the Forbidden Forest is still forbidden, hence the name. Do not forget it! Now—let's sing the school song and eat!" he finished.
Everyone stood. Harry had been practicing to "Londonderry Air" with his new tenor voice, having abandoned "Loch Lomond;" Ron used his quavering baritone for the tune to the national anthem, Hermione had chosen "Candle in the Wind," of all things, and George and Fred were loudly singing in unison to the tune of "Waltzing Mathilda," so theirs was the theme that came through the polyglot of noise most prominently; it turned out to work with the words surprisingly well.
When the last few singers had finished (there were always some who had to choose a slow ballad) food appeared on the tables and they all fell to with gusto, despite the sweets many had consumed on the train. Young Will Flitwick was across from Harry and Ron, between Hermione and Ginny. "Are you Harry Potter?" he asked, awestruck, looking at the scar on Harry's forehead. "Are you a prefect?"
Harry looked kindly at him. "Yes and yes. Are you related to Professor Flitwick?"
"He's my uncle. Great uncle, actually. My granddad's big brother. Don't see him much, since most of the year he's teaching." The idea of tiny Professor Flitwick being called "big" was making Harry's mouth curl up at the edges.
"Bet you'll do well in Charms."
"Oh, I doubt it. It's not my bailiwick. I'm much more interested in Transfiguration; perhaps I'll become an Animagus one day."
Harry and Ron looked at each other, trying not to smile; an eleven-year-old using words like "bailiwick." Young Will Flitwick promised to be an interesting first-year.
After puddings they rose to go. Harry wanted to talk to Ron about having a Quidditch practice the next day, which was Saturday; lessons wouldn't start until Monday so they had a free weekend right at the start of term. But it turned out that, as a prefect, Harry had other responsibilities.
"Harry, Hermione," said Alicia, striding over to them, "please take the first years up to Gryffindor Tower and make sure they're settled in their dormitories. Answer any questions they might have. McGonagall wants to see me." She walked off to the head table, where Professor McGonagall was still seated, talking to Professor Vector, Hagrid and Dumbledore. That's when Harry noticed that Snape hadn't been at the feast.
He didn't have time to ponder this, though, as he had to herd a passell of first-years upstairs. When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady Harry suddenly realized that he didn't know the password. He turned helplessly to Hermione. She sighed and gave the password.
"Crenellation."
The portrait swung open and they scrambled into the common room. It looked as cozy and inviting as Harry remembered, with overstuffed armchairs scattered all about and a blazing fire in the hearth. He noticed for the first time the rampant Gryffindor lion on the keystone of the arch on the fireplace opening.
Hermione took the first-year girls up the spiral stairs leading to the girls' dormitories while Harry led the boys up the stairs to their dorm. Once they arrived in the room that had been vacated by the previous seventh-years there was a sudden frenzied rush to claim the four-poster beds. Harry had to break up a fight between Andy Donegal and Barry Bagshot, who both wanted the bed farthest from the door. He awarded it to Will Flitwick, unsure whether he was really being fair, but he had been unable to come up with another way to settle it. Then there was a fuss over Jules Quinn's cat, since Andy was allergic and Jules would insist that it had to sleep with him. Maybe I'm not cut out to be a prefect. He didn't realize it would involve what amounted to babysitting. He couldn't remember being quite so immature as a first-year. He told Andy to go to the hospital wing in the morning for a potion to prevent him having an adverse reaction to the cat.
When they'd finally settled down Harry left them, pointing his wand at the candles to extinguish them one by one, looking at the exhausted boys, tucked up in their beds, by the light of the last candle. Then Harry heard Will say softly, "Harry? Could you—just leave that one lit?" Harry nodded and quietly closed the door.
When he returned to the common room, Hermione, Ron and Ginny were in three of four armchairs gathered near the fire; they'd saved him a seat.
"What took you so long? The first-year girls were good as gold for me."
"Well, I had first-year boys. There was a fight over who got which bed, over Quinn's cat… You name it. Plus, I've felt out of sorts all day—can't put my finger on it."
They sat silently for a minute, staring at the fire in exhaustion. "I know," Hermione said suddenly.
Harry's eyes were closed. "What do you know?" he asked lazily, thinking that she was probably going to propose an O.W.L. revision session.
"Why you're feeling out of sorts. You didn't go running today."
Harry opened his eyes and thought for a moment. "You know, I think you're right. It's too late now, of course, but I can get up before breakfast tomorrow and do it."
"I'll meet you here in the common room at seven to stretch."
"Oh—" Harry began, surprised that she still wanted to do it, but remembering how she looked in the running bra and shorts, he didn't object. "I reckon we could use that sandy path around the Quidditch pitch. Probably easier on our joints than the pavement back home."
Ron made a face. "Seven in the morning! On a Saturday! You're mad!"
"Be glad I'm not holding Quidditch practice at that hour! That won't be until after breakfast. You and Ginny'll both come, right?" He looked hopefully at them both. They nodded. "Good, because Fred and George are free—I talked to them on the train—and they said they'll get Alicia, Katie and Angelina there. We'll meet down at the pitch." Suddenly he had to stop talking and gave a tremendous yawn. "Oh! Those first years were tiring. I think I need bed. Good night."
"Me too," said Ron. "'Night, Ginny, Hermione."
The girls said goodnight and headed toward their own staircase. Harry and Ron went up to their room at the top of the tower, now bearing a sign on the door saying "Fifth Years." Neville was already in his bed, snoring, and Seamus and Dean sat on Dean's bed looking at Seamus's holiday photos from Australia. Ron glanced at them for a moment before changed into his pajamas and climbing under the covers. "Seamus got to go to Australia," he said softly, an edge to his voice.
Harry changed into pajama trousers, but above the waist wore only his basilisk amulet and Sandy wrapped around his left arm. He glanced at Ron as he clambered into his own four-poster, muttering, "Sorry." Ron shrugged, trying to act like it didn't matter to him—but it clearly did. He closed his curtains. Harry closed his own curtains and lay back with his hands behind his head, feeling guilty because Ron was trapped in his house all summer just for being Harry's friend. And Hermione had almost been kidnapped. When will it end? But he knew the answer: When Voldemort is dead, or—I am.
#/#/#
Harry and Hermione staggered up the steps to the Entrance Hall at eight o'clock the next morning after spending forty minutes running and ten stretching before and after. Harry left Sandy under a rose bush in the gardens while they ran and had collected her afterward, wearing her around his arm once more. They dragged themselves to the third-floor hall and Hermione waved exhaustedly at him, heading toward a portrait of a girl in a very large skirt with a shepherd's crook and a flock of sheep around her.
"Lemon fresh," she said to the shepherdess, gaining entrance to the prefects' bathroom for girls.
Harry trudged up two more flights to the fifth floor and the statue of Boris the Bewildered (hopeless during the Goblin rebellion of 1510, Hermione had informed him) before counting four doors to the left of Boris. He said, "Pine fresh," and the door swung open.
As he remembered, the bathroom was as opulent as a Roman bath, with marble everywhere. Unfortunately, it was not as empty as he remembered; Draco Malfoy was in the large pool-sized sunken tub, swimming in celadon-green bubbles, his pale hair clinging wetly to his scalp.
"Malfoy! What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here? I'm a prefect too, remember. What're you looking so grungy and sweaty for? Was it that hard to get here? Lost your way in the castle after four years? You'll be bloody helpful to the first-years, won't you? They'll be giving you directions, probably."
"I was out running, for your information. With Hermione," he added; he was unsure why.
Malfoy smiled lasciviously. "Granger? Are you thinking of trying to steal her from Viktor Krum? That was quite a show yesterday." He looked at Harry, who was still breathing hard from running; he felt adrenaline running through him from the exercise and felt he could actually squeeze the life out of Malfoy with his bare hands, if he wanted to. "What's the matter; don't I get threatened with bodily harm today? Too tired after running around like a Muggle?"
"Wanting a shower too much, more like," he panted, heading toward the marble partition that separated the showers from the tub. "You're just boring me, anyway. Can't think of an insult worse than 'running around like a Muggle?'"
"It's early. I just woke up. Let me eat breakfast first." He laughed. Harry placed Sandy carefully in a corner before stripping and getting into the shower. The warm spray was like a blessing; he lifted his face to it gratefully, as if in prayer. He wondered how Malfoy would have reacted if he could have seen Hermione in her bikini, but that thought made him picture Hermione in her bikini, and soon he felt like he might need to turn off the hot water and have a cold shower.
After he dried off he put Sandy back on his arm and wrapped a towel around his waist before going to the large wardrobe near the tub. He felt Malfoy's eyes on him again and wondered if he'd make more annoying comments about manual labor. At least I'm not a pale, skinny git—anymore. The wardrobe held green, blue, yellow and red dressing gowns and he removed a fluffy red dressing gown with the Gryffindor lion embroidered over the heart, plus a pair of the standard-issue black shower shoes kept on the bottom of the wardrobe. He felt like new, all pink and humid, his hair curling on his neck. Haircut, he thought again, must get a haircut. He carried his clothes to the door of the bathroom; Malfoy was still in the tub.
"Careful, Malfoy," he said before leaving, "you'll never be able to unshrivel your skin. Not that anyone would notice the difference." Malfoy made a face and moved to pick up his wand, at the side of the tub, but Harry laughed and ran out the door. He walked back up to Gryffindor Tower, smiling and shaking his head. At least Malfoy being a prefect meant that he was with Crabbe and Goyle less often; on his own, he was quite manageable, Harry thought.
He gave the password to the Fat Lady and climbed into the common room. Only Parvati and Lavender were there; since it was Saturday, they were in jeans and T-shirts, rather than black Hogwarts robes.
They stared at him, Parvati in particular looking flabbergasted.
"Harry," she said. "You look like you had a good summer." He realized after a moment that she was peering at his legs (the dressing gown came down to his knees). Lavender stared at what was visible of his chest where the robe opened.
He tried to be casual. "Yeah, I reckon. Wish I'd had time for a haircut, though. I feel like I need a different look…"
"Oh!" Lavender suddenly said. "Parvati can do it! She's really good—does her own dad's hair."
Parvati looked at him as she had when he'd picked her up for the Yule Ball the previous Christmas—before he trod on her feet during the dancing and ignored her, spending the rest of the ball watching Cho Chang with Cedric Diggory. "Yes," she said slowly, squinting at him as if trying to see a vision of him with his new haircut. "It's a good thing your hair's already wet. Sit here," she said, pulling a wooden chair out from one of the tables.
He sat obediently, clutching his sweaty running clothes. He tried to explain what he wanted; she nodded and said, "That's exactly what I was thinking. I always thought that would be a much better look on you," making Harry wonder how many girls at Hogwarts had been expending mental energy thinking about giving him a makeover.
"Incisio!" she said; her wand sprouted scissors at the tip. As she worked, Harry watched his hair fall to the floor, remembering times during his childhood when the Dursleys had tried to cut his hair, which he'd magically willed to look the same again (not yet knowing he was a wizard). He'd been as surprised as the Dursleys that this happened, and had been baffled by receiving punishments for it, as if he'd done it intentionally.
When she was done, she said, "Finite Incantatem!" The scissors on her wand disappeared. "Imago!" she said next, and a mirror sprouted from the wand tip. She handed it to Harry so he could inspect himself. It was exactly as he'd described it to her; short on the sides, which was fine as he didn't have large ears; they were oddly small, with lobes that went straight into his head instead of hanging down pendulously. She'd cut it shorter on top, too, pushed back and up, baring his forehead was bare, the scar no longer partly hidden by his fringe. The scar was front and center, for all the world to see, and his vivid green eyes seemed more in evidence too, somehow. He put his glasses on and ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up even more.
"Thanks, Parvati! It looks just like I wanted!" He stood and smiled, confused by her reaction, which was to blush furiously. She usually giggled. He suddenly felt that he needed to say something else, something long overdue. "Listen, Parvati, I'm sorry about the way I behaved at the Yule Ball. I was a total prat and you didn't deserve it." She really had looked beautiful that night, he thought. She smiled and looked at him with her large dark eyes shining in her flawless coffee-with-cream face.
"That's all right, Harry. I got to go to the Yule Ball with Harry Potter, one of the Hogwarts champions and winner of the Triwizard Tournament. It's something I can tell my grandchildren."
He looked at the floor, abashed by her response, before noticing his hair all over it. "What a mess! Is there a broom?"
"You are so funny sometimes, Harry. But then, you spend each summer with Muggles, so—Nonhirsutum!" She waved her wand and the hair clippings disappeared from the floor, chair and Harry's shoulders, as well as the running clothes he still held. He smiled at her again, wondering how he had not noticed before how enormous her eyes were, and then climbed the stairs to his dorm, remembering Cho Chang asking him out and Alicia standing very close to him in the train corridor the day before. He wondered whether the girls at Hogwarts had now decided that it was open season on Harry Potter. It certainly seemed that way.
#/#/#
Harry threw on a sleeveless black T-shirt and black jeans, put on the basilisk amulet and Sandy and went down to breakfast carrying his Quidditch robes and Firebolt. The other Gryffindors were already gone and when he reentered the common room, even Parvati and Lavender had left. He virtually skipped down to the Great Hall; running in the morning made him feel normal again.
But when he arrived in the Great Hall, he felt anything but normal. He started to stride over to the Gryffindor table, feeling rather than hearing (the vibrations seemed to come through the floor) the murmur of mostly higher-pitched voices—female voices—saying, "Look at Harry Potter—what's Harry Potter done—doesn't he look—oh, my god, do you see Harry Potter—" He furrowed his brow, sitting between Ron and Hermione and facing an amazed-looking Ginny. Beside her, George laughed and thrust a piece of bacon in her open mouth, making her sputter and spit it onto her plate.
"George!"
He laughed. "Sorry, Ginny. But you should have seen your face! And your mouth was hanging open, so—"
"I don't get it," Harry said, looking around at the girls craning their necks, even at the Slytherin table. "Hasn't anyone ever heard of a person getting a haircut?"
"Oh," said George casually. "Have you cut your hair, Harry?"
Harry threw a scone at George, who laughed and ducked. "Parvati cut it. She did a pretty good job, I think."
Ginny nodded dumbly, blindly biting her toast. Harry thought her large brown eyes looked slightly unfocussed. Beside him, Hermione said, "She did a fantastic job." She reached out to touch his hair dreamily.
"Hermione!" Ron said, irritated. She jumped, as if waking up.
George laughed until Angelina, beside him, agreed with Hermione, saying emphatically, "That is an understatement."
"Oi!" George responded, making Angelina laugh.
Harry reddened as he reached for toast. "Did it look that bad before?" He glanced at Hermione, who looked away, coloring, then at Ginny, who stared at her plate.
"Well, it's not hard to see your scar now," Ron said in a flat voice.
"And it's not hard to see your muscles, with that shirt," Angelina added helpfully. George glared at her and then Harry, but she smiled and kissed his cheek. "You're just too easy, George. And you're terribly cute when you're jealous…"
Breakfast was somewhat uncomfortable for Harry because of the stir he was causing. Was it that bad before? he wondered again. Hermione mumbled something about the library before running off, peering at him over her shoulder for a second. Ginny avoided meeting his eyes during the rest of the meal, and Harry avoided looking at other house tables, pretending to be fascinated with his feet on the way out of the hall.
After breakfast the Gryffindor Quidditch team gathered in the changing rooms and officially elected Harry to be their new captain, whereupon, Harry introduced Ron as new Keeper and reserve Chaser and Beater ("What do you think's gonna happen to us?" Fred and George wanted to know), and Ginny as reserve Seeker. "I'll also be reserve Keeper, when necessary," Harry told them. He wanted to put breakfast behind him and be as businesslike as possible. Angelina was treating him normally again (he assumed that a lot of her comments at breakfast had been to needle George), but Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet looked a bit distracted. "All right, we all need to practice—and some of us need to practice more than one position. Since there's eight of us, we'll divide up into two teams. The Chasers will take turns playing other positions, since we only need one on a team. You'll be one of the Seekers first, Katie, while I play Keeper, Alicia will be your Chaser and Fred will be Beater. Ron, you and Ginny will be the Keeper and Seeker on the other team with Angelina and George. Let's go!"
Once they were playing, having to concentrate on not falling off broomsticks or being hit by Bludgers, everyone seemed more normal again. Ginny caught the Snitch before Katie, and then before Angelina and Alicia. Alicia, Katie and Angelina were a bit surprised but obviously put it down to the fact that Ginny wasn't competing against Harry. Then he had each of the Chasers take a turn at playing Keeper for the sake of the practice, so Ron could practice being a Chaser while Harry played Seeker.
After some more practice games with Ron as Beater and Fred and George taking turns as Keeper and Seeker (Harry seriously wondered whether George might need glasses; the Snitch had hovered about a foot in front of him, whereupon Ginny swooped down and grabbed it), Harry ended the practice. As they left the pitch Alicia and Katie looked strangely at Ginny, as if she were an intruder. Angelina put her arm around her and said, "Don't you mind them. George tipped me off how good you are; now I know he wasn't exaggerating! In fact, I think he underplayed it." Ginny smiled gratefully at her, watching as Angelina and George joined hands and left the rest of the group to walk toward the greenhouses, smiling and swinging their hands vigorously.
"Where are they going?" Harry asked Ginny as they continued toward the castle. Ron looked like he wondered too. Fred was up ahead with Alicia and Katie, trying to get them to laugh with very bad puns.
"Where do you think?" Ginny said, frowning.
Harry and Ron simultaneously let out an "Ooohhhhh," as it dawned on them, making her shake her head.
"Honestly," she muttered, picking up speed and passing them.
Harry looked at Ron. When did Ginny become so worldly-wise? Ron wouldn't look at him. She almost sounded jaded. He remembered how she had giggled about catching Percy kissing his girlfriend Penelope when Harry was in second year and Ginny in first. Three years have made quite a difference, Harry thought, watching her walk ahead of him and Ron toward the castle. Quite a difference.
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After lunch, Harry, Ron and Hermione went to Hagrid's cabin to see how he was doing. "Maybe we can find out what he did in Ukraine," Harry said on the way.
"How do you know that's where he was?" Hermione wanted to know. "That was supposed to be a secret."
"He told me—in not so many words."
"I just hope the giants don't take You-Know-Who's side," Ron intoned with an air of doom.
"Well, I think Hagrid was the perfect ambassador to send to them—and didn't he also take Madame Maxime? I mean, she's headmistress of a very well-regarded school of witchcraft and wizardry. She's got clout," Hermione stated with authority.
Harry looked grim. "I hope you're right."
Hagrid was pleased to see them when they knocked on his door, but all through tea, he managed to deflect any questions about the giants, or even what they'd be doing in Care of Magical Creatures. They came away feeling somewhat flat, but when they reached the castle again, Hermione reminded them that they hadn't gone to see Hagrid just to pump him for information—they'd gone to see him because he was their friend.
"And anyway," she went on, "nothing could be any worse than Blast-Ended Skrewts. Right?"
"Yeah," said Harry and Ron feebly; that's what they'd thought about the baby dragon, too. They just hoped she was right.
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"So," Roger Davies said unctuously, standing at the desk where he and Alicia presided over the prefects' meeting, "does everyone understand where all of the steps are that need to be skipped and how to extract the feet of students who forget to skip them?" The prefects groaned assent, dying for the meeting to be over. Even gung-ho Hermione looked like she was flagging after the two-hour meeting. Two hours? We've been discussing trick steps and how to change passwords to restricted areas and how to take points from houses based on certain infringements of the rules for two hours? They'd discussed more than that, but it was all starting to blur for Harry. Personally, he thought Roger was a bit power hungry, particularly enjoying the power he had over the prefects to bore them silly for as long as he wanted. Even Alicia and his own brother, Evan, looked like they wanted to hex him.
"Good," Alicia said quickly. "Do we have a motion to table any further business until the next meeting?"
"So moved!" came a swift reply from Ernie MacMillan, of Hufflepuff.
"Second?"
"Second!" responded a sixth-year Slytherin.
"All in favor?"
"AYE!" replied twenty-two exhausted voices.
"Opposed?"
"But I—" Roger began. Alicia cut him off.
"The ayes have it. I move to adjourn the meeting."
"Second!" came the unexpected voice of Draco Malfoy.
"All in favor?"
"AYE!"
"The meeting is adjourned." She tried to pry the gavel out of Roger's hand to pound it on the desk, and wound up having to put her hand around his and pound it that way. Roger looked deeply offended. Alicia collected the notes from Hermione, who had volunteered to be the recording secretary; Alicia had offered to get her a Quick-Quotes quill for the purpose, but Harry suggested that they weren't very accurate or reliable and tended to embellish a great deal, so Hermione opted to do it the old-fashioned way.
As the prefects prepared to leave Harry noticed Mandy Brocklehurst gazing fixedly at him. He remembered that she played Chaser on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. She had wavy chestnut hair, a sprinkling of freckles over a small nose, and large dark blue eyes regarding him closely. He looked away, into the gaze of Alicia Spinnet. He was also vaguely aware of Hermione and Cho Chang gazing at him. This is getting creepy. He had spent much of the previous day (after returning from Hagrid's) and all of the earlier part of Sunday, except for mealtimes, holed up in his room, at times even closing the curtains of his four-poster and reading his O.W.L. book by wandlight. Well, if I have to spend this much time avoiding leering girls, maybe I'll at least get top marks on my O.W.L.s.
"Harry," Alicia said. "Could you stay for a moment after the meeting?"
He nodded, not trusting his voice, in case what came out was, "Could you all please stop staring at me?"
Hermione said casually, "I'll meet you in the entrance hall," and left. Cho Chang and Mandy Brocklehurst also left, somewhat slowly. Alicia sat in the chair beside that Hermione had vacated. They were the only ones in the room.
"So, Harry," she said, smiling, and sitting, he thought, entirely too close. "How's it going so far?"
Harry leaned back in his chair so it was on the back two legs, trying to be casual. This also helped put distance between him and Alicia. "You know, first year boys are still pretty youn—"
He was forced to stop as the chair tilted too far back, skidded on the smooth stone floor, and sent Harry crashing in a heap, his feet narrowly missing kicking Alicia in the jaw on the way down. She jumped up with a cry, trying to help him up, but he brushed her off. It became worse a moment later when Hermione, Cho and Mandy ran back into the room, all trying to help him up at the same time. This was more hindrance than help and he finally yelped, "Geroff!"
They stepped back somewhat alarmed; he got to his feet, set the chair right and brushed off his robes, trying to maintain some shred of dignity. Then he nodded and said, "Good night, ladies." He turned to leave, his new robes billowing out behind him as he took the largest strides he could to escape them.
Hermione caught up with him in the entrance hall. She fell into step beside him as he ascended the stairs, two at a time; she had to move quickly to keep up with her considerably shorter legs. He thought, I'm probably going to put a foot right through a trick step. He wasn't paying attention at all. He didn't look at Hermione or speak to her. When they reached the portrait, Harry didn't say the password, instead he turned to her and said abruptly, "Why are all of the girls in this ruddy place suddenly acting so strangely?"
Hermione smiled at him, looking like she hadn't heard what he'd said and reaching up to touch his jaw. "You're going to have to shave soon, Harry," she said softly. She traced his jawline with her finger, adding, "You have no idea how attractive you are, do you?" She was practically whispering. Harry felt his heart beating very quickly; he shivered involuntarily at the feel of her finger brushing the new growth along his jaw.
Suddenly she said loudly, "Crenellation!" and the portrait swung open. She entered the common room with more dignity than he felt he'd mustered after falling to the floor after the prefects' meeting and went up to the girls' dormitories without looking back.
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