Chapter Nine-Rumors, Quidditich and Firewhiskey
A month later, a month in which Harry Potter avoided Hermione Granger at all costs, excepct in meetings with Professors and Prefects.
Harry is studying in the library with Blaise and Theo. Hermione Granger is at the next table with an ever growing mountain of books. Neville Longbottom enters the library, looks around before proceeding over to Hermione Granger and her book buckling table.
"Hermione?"
"Hmm?" she looked up, "Oh, Hello Neville, what's up?"
"Um, can I ask you something?" she nodded, "Is it true that if you play some muggle music devices backwards, some have hidden messages?"
"Uh, I guess some do..." she replied being drowned out by hysterical laughter from the next table, Harry listening in on there conversation.
Madam Pince came dashing over as if going out to die in battle, "MISTER POTTER! THIS IS A LIBRARY, NOT A COMEDY CLUB! GET OUT!"
Harry gathered his things and walked out of the library, still ringing with hysterical laughter.
Neville, Theo, Blaise, and Hermione followed him out, "What was that all about, Potter?" Hermione asked.
"Well Granger, theres this muggle television show, The Simpsons, and that was on an episode, I love that show!"
"How do you know about these things, Harry?" Neville asked, Theo and Blaise looking like they were thinking the same thing.
"Well, Neville, I did spend my summers and much of my life before Hogwarts with muggles, didn't I?"
"Sorry, forgot, you know.."
Harry nodded, "I know," his voice dripping with malice for his relatives.
As the day wore on, rumors swirled about who bet on which team, including one particularly odd one--- People were saying that Hermione Granger... yes Head Girl Hermione Granger bet on the match! And not at all on whom you'd think....
Here's what happened this morning... "Hey Terry," yes, Prefect Terry Boot.
"Hey Hermione."
"Can I place a bet on Saturday's match?"
Boot's mouth dropped open in shock, "What do you want to bet on? The overall match, which seeker catches the Snitch?
"What are the odds?"
"Most are betting on an upset, Gryfindor and there three rookie chasers over Slytherin, but I don't know, ten to one Slytherin, twenty to one Potter catches the Snitch."
"Ten Galleons for a Slytherin Victory, and ten for Potter catching the Snitch."
"Are you sure?" he asked his eyes widening.
"Positive," she answered as she handed over the galleons.
This same day, just the evening now... eight o' clock and Harry's just gotten back from Quidditich practice.
"Hey Granger, is the rumor true?"
"What rumor?"
"That your passionately in love with me and confessed it to everyone between here and the astronomy tower?"
She looked completely astonished and asked, "Now, where did you here that one?"
"Oh, everywhere," he replied off hand.
She looked as if she was about to go and Avada Kedavra every known gossiper in the school. "Granger, it was a joke, I wasn't serious, I know that'll never happen."
"So were you pulling my leg or is there really a rumor going on about me?"
"There is. Is it true O Noble Gryfindor, that you placed a rather hefty bet on me and my O So Cunning Slytherins?"
"It is."
"And what would possess you to bet against your own house?"
"Oh, the fact that Gryfindor hasn't beaten Slytherin in over seven years, our keeper is wretched, out beaters routinely hit our own players and our best chaser is our seeker, so that doesn't help any, plus our chasers are a trio of second years, who can easily be knocked off a broom.
"Girl Weasley os your best Chaser! I wonder if Keeper Weasley would be a better Chaser or Beater, hmm... I wonder... ahh no use contemplating what ifs."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, what our two teams would be like if the hat had made another decision."
"What! What do you mean?"
"Did the sorting hat consider you for any houses besides Gryfindor?"
"Yeah, Ravenclaw, why?"
"That's believable, can you guess which other house it considered me for?"
"No Way!"
"Yes, it considered me for Gryfindor, and said I'd do well in Slytherin, I had no idea about any of the houses, only what Malfoy said in Madam Malkins, but I disregarded what he said, I had not a clue, thus told it to place me wherever it thought best."
"I can't imagine you a Gryfindor, your brave and all, but the Slytherin over rides all of that."
"Why thank you, I don't think I'd have had as many oppourtunities to learn what I have in Gryfindor."
"Why not?"
"No offence to you and you lot, but excepct for Fred and George Weasley, oh and Neville at some points, the whole lot of you are goody two shoes."
"Is that an insult?"
"Sure is."
"Sadly your right.. and when has Neville ever put a toe out of line?"
"On his adventures, well suicide missions with me, surprisingly you've been in on a couple of those as well. Plus you save Neville and my hides with that troll, covering up for us, thanks for that."
"That was first year! How did Neville and you become friends, if you don't mind?"
"Not at all. Remember his Remembrall, well I returned it to him in the hospital wing and we got to talking, we have the same birthday, and other things in common."
"I always wondered why Neville was friends with a prat like you, but I guess you aren't so bad."
"I have my moments," he joked.
"I know, I've seen a few," she smiled.
"Sorry."
She just shook her head, he sure did say sorry an awful lot, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you just say sorry?" He shrugged. There definitely was much more to figure out about Potter...
Saturday "WELCOME TO THE FIRST QUIDDITICH MATCH OF THE SEASON! GRYFINDOR VERSUS THE DEFENDING CUP CHAMPION SLYTHERIN! FIRST THE GRYFINDORS!" Boos from a quarter of the crowd, "PARKER! JACKSON! ZIMMERMAN! SLOPER! KIRKE! WEASLEY! AND CAPTAIN WEASLEY! NOW THE SLYTHERINS!" Boos from seventy-five percent of the crowd, "NOTT! MALFOY! ZABINI! CRABBE! GOYLE! MCCARTY! AND CAPTAIN POTTER!"
"Captains, shake hands, Potter, Weasley," the two shook hands before returning to there positions, "I want a good clean match," Madam Hooch directed, before tossing up the Quaffle.
"AND THE QUAFFLES UP! TAKEN BY NOTT, OW SLOPER JUST PRACTICALLY TOOK ZIMMERMAN OFF HER BROOM, ZABINI SCORES!
TEN TO ZERO SLYTHERIN.
PARKER HAS THE QUAFFLE, AH! GRYFINDOR BEATER KIRKE JUST HIT HER IN THE EYE!
MALFOY PICKS UP THE QUAFFLE PASSES TO NOTT, GOAL!
WEASLEY PASSES THE QUAFFLE OUT, RIGHT TO MALFOY, THIRTY TO ZERO SLYTHERIN.
JACKSON TAKES THE QUAFFLE, CRASH RIGHT INTO CRABBE, THAT HAD TO HURT!
ZABINI PICKS UP THE QUAFFLE."
"COME ON SPIDER," Harry yells from his perch looking for the snitch.
"URGH! WEASLEY'S FALLING OFF HIS BROOM! ZABINI SCORES...
MALFOY SCORES...
NOTT SCORES...
SIXTY TO ZERO,
NO SEVENTY,
NO EIGHTY,
GET BACK ON YOUR BROOM WEASLEY!" The announcer expressed the sentiments of the crowd.
"NINETY, ZIMMERMAN HAS THE QUAFFLE! WOW! ABSOLUTELY SPECTACULAR SAVE BY KEEPER MCCARTY!
MALFOY TAKES THE QUAFFLE TO ZABINI TO NOTT GOAL,
ONE-HUNDRED TO ZERO, JACKSON AWW! MALFOY GOAL
ONE HUNDRED AND TEN TO ZERO.
HORRIBLE! SLOPERS JUST CRASHED INTO ZABINI!
PENALTY TO SLYTHERIN."
"SPIDER! SPIDER! SPIDER!," chants the Slytherin portion of the crowd, boos from the rest.
"AHHH! SPIDER! WHERE? WHERE?" Ron Weasley exclaims in fright as...
"ZABINI SCORES ON THE PENALTY.
ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY TO ZERO.
ZIMMERMAN PASSES, NOTT SCORES,
ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY TO ZERO.
JACKSON HAS IT OVER TO, URGH INTERCEPTION BY MALFOY!
TO ZABINI GOAL, ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY TO ZERO."
High above the pitch, "Would you like me to end your teams misery now?"
"In your dreams Potter."
"POTTER MUST HAVE SEEN THE SNITCH! HE'S DIVING!
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY TO ZERO SLYTHERIN,
WEASLEY'S FOLLOWING, THERE HURTLING TOWARDS THE GROUND
THERE FEET FROM THE GROUND
A FOOT! POTTER'S PULLED UP!
WEASLEY'S CRASHED HEAD INTO THE PITCH!
WHAT A WRONSKI FEINT!
ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY TO ZERO.
POTTER'S ZOOMING TOWARD THE GRYFINDOR GOAL POSTS
AND HE'S GOT THE SNITCH!
THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY TO ZERO! SLYTHERIN WINS!
It's eleven o' clock and Hermione Granger is sitting in the Head Common Room reading a book, when, she's interuppted by someone in the hall singing off key, "Younidey," the cursing and kicking the door, "Open up damn it! Younidey!"
"Potter must be back from his victory party," Hermione said out loud, going over and opening the door.
"Herminniny Fank foo," Harry greeted.
"On a first name basis now?"
Harry shrugged, "Huh?"
"Have you made any trips to the Great White Porcelan god yet, Potter?" Hermione asked as he plopped backwards over the back of the couch and she closed the portrait and sat on the opposite end of the couch.
"Nah, that'd haff ta be rat-faced, pureblood fanatic, ferret boy Malfoy," Harry answered.
"So, his own house hates him too?"
"Deepends."
"What do you mean?"
"Thee Slytherin h'ouse is v'erry factioned, Pureblood fanatics, nuetrals, anti-Voldemort, plus depends on ya lineage, and it all splits more in more from there."
"Never knew that, well, before this year."
"Yeah, we put on a good public face, sticking together, like with Quidditich but, behind closed doors we're as different as butterbeer and firewhiskey."
"You talk more when your drunk."
"Do I? It's hot in here, SWEET!" he pulled a full bottle of firewhiskey out of one robe pocket and a boatload of sweets out of the other, then he pulled his robe over his head, to reveal a tattered pair of jeans, a... well from the looks of it, and t-shirt that had been cut apart and resewn to fit, by the looks of it.
"Want some whiskey? Frog? Beans?"
"Got any cups?"
"Jus a sec," and he dashed up stairs and returned with a mug, with only half of it's handle and a cracked glass.
"Which ya want?"
"Either," he filled them up and gave her the glass, while he took the mug.
"What's with your clothes? And why is your mug broken?"
"My cousin and that's what was left of the mug when I got to Hogwarts."
"Why?"
"Dudley was mad I won and he didn't so he threw me mug and I picked up the pieces, well what I could find, found the reparo charm first year, so I fixed it."
"Yet you never managed to repair your glasses! Occulus Reparo," she said with her wand pointed at his glasses.
"Nev'er occured to me."
"So you lived with muggles, which included a bully cousin before Hogwarts?"
"Yeah."
"Where?"
"Surrey."
"I live in London, outside of Hogwarts, my parents have a practice there."
"Practice doin' wha?"
"Dentistry."
"Tha't why ya got good teeth?"
"Partly."
"Why partly?"
"Cause of a hex Malfoy sent at someone else and hit me fourth year."
"What'd that rat-faced ferret bastard do to you!?"
"Gave me Beaver teeth, but Pomfrey fixed them, I had overly large front teeth, I had her shrink them smaller then there original size."
"I HATE THE HOSPITAL WING!"
"Why?"
"I spend way too much time there every year."
"Do you, why?"
"Voldemort, Quidditich, psycho, moronic or deatheater professors."
She laughed, "Who's the worst?"
"Of professors?" she nodded. "Lockhart was."
"What'd he do?"
"Removed my arm, had to drink that horrible Skele-grow, foul stuff, that is."
"Worse then this?" she asked, motioning to the firewhiskey.
"By a few kilometers."
"Really?"
"Yeah, and I think we've had enough, save some for another day, eh?"
"Sure and save me some, don' drink it all."
"For sure, promise I'll save it, night Hermione."
"Good night Potter, Harry." He nodded and headed up the staircase, and turned left at the landing to his door.
There's chapter 9, Chapter ten is entitled: I will kill you all, it's about half way written, almost done, hope you enjoyed this fun, pretty happy chapter, Ten will be sad, maybe even depressing.... please read, review, thanks to those who have.
A month later, a month in which Harry Potter avoided Hermione Granger at all costs, excepct in meetings with Professors and Prefects.
Harry is studying in the library with Blaise and Theo. Hermione Granger is at the next table with an ever growing mountain of books. Neville Longbottom enters the library, looks around before proceeding over to Hermione Granger and her book buckling table.
"Hermione?"
"Hmm?" she looked up, "Oh, Hello Neville, what's up?"
"Um, can I ask you something?" she nodded, "Is it true that if you play some muggle music devices backwards, some have hidden messages?"
"Uh, I guess some do..." she replied being drowned out by hysterical laughter from the next table, Harry listening in on there conversation.
Madam Pince came dashing over as if going out to die in battle, "MISTER POTTER! THIS IS A LIBRARY, NOT A COMEDY CLUB! GET OUT!"
Harry gathered his things and walked out of the library, still ringing with hysterical laughter.
Neville, Theo, Blaise, and Hermione followed him out, "What was that all about, Potter?" Hermione asked.
"Well Granger, theres this muggle television show, The Simpsons, and that was on an episode, I love that show!"
"How do you know about these things, Harry?" Neville asked, Theo and Blaise looking like they were thinking the same thing.
"Well, Neville, I did spend my summers and much of my life before Hogwarts with muggles, didn't I?"
"Sorry, forgot, you know.."
Harry nodded, "I know," his voice dripping with malice for his relatives.
As the day wore on, rumors swirled about who bet on which team, including one particularly odd one--- People were saying that Hermione Granger... yes Head Girl Hermione Granger bet on the match! And not at all on whom you'd think....
Here's what happened this morning... "Hey Terry," yes, Prefect Terry Boot.
"Hey Hermione."
"Can I place a bet on Saturday's match?"
Boot's mouth dropped open in shock, "What do you want to bet on? The overall match, which seeker catches the Snitch?
"What are the odds?"
"Most are betting on an upset, Gryfindor and there three rookie chasers over Slytherin, but I don't know, ten to one Slytherin, twenty to one Potter catches the Snitch."
"Ten Galleons for a Slytherin Victory, and ten for Potter catching the Snitch."
"Are you sure?" he asked his eyes widening.
"Positive," she answered as she handed over the galleons.
This same day, just the evening now... eight o' clock and Harry's just gotten back from Quidditich practice.
"Hey Granger, is the rumor true?"
"What rumor?"
"That your passionately in love with me and confessed it to everyone between here and the astronomy tower?"
She looked completely astonished and asked, "Now, where did you here that one?"
"Oh, everywhere," he replied off hand.
She looked as if she was about to go and Avada Kedavra every known gossiper in the school. "Granger, it was a joke, I wasn't serious, I know that'll never happen."
"So were you pulling my leg or is there really a rumor going on about me?"
"There is. Is it true O Noble Gryfindor, that you placed a rather hefty bet on me and my O So Cunning Slytherins?"
"It is."
"And what would possess you to bet against your own house?"
"Oh, the fact that Gryfindor hasn't beaten Slytherin in over seven years, our keeper is wretched, out beaters routinely hit our own players and our best chaser is our seeker, so that doesn't help any, plus our chasers are a trio of second years, who can easily be knocked off a broom.
"Girl Weasley os your best Chaser! I wonder if Keeper Weasley would be a better Chaser or Beater, hmm... I wonder... ahh no use contemplating what ifs."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, what our two teams would be like if the hat had made another decision."
"What! What do you mean?"
"Did the sorting hat consider you for any houses besides Gryfindor?"
"Yeah, Ravenclaw, why?"
"That's believable, can you guess which other house it considered me for?"
"No Way!"
"Yes, it considered me for Gryfindor, and said I'd do well in Slytherin, I had no idea about any of the houses, only what Malfoy said in Madam Malkins, but I disregarded what he said, I had not a clue, thus told it to place me wherever it thought best."
"I can't imagine you a Gryfindor, your brave and all, but the Slytherin over rides all of that."
"Why thank you, I don't think I'd have had as many oppourtunities to learn what I have in Gryfindor."
"Why not?"
"No offence to you and you lot, but excepct for Fred and George Weasley, oh and Neville at some points, the whole lot of you are goody two shoes."
"Is that an insult?"
"Sure is."
"Sadly your right.. and when has Neville ever put a toe out of line?"
"On his adventures, well suicide missions with me, surprisingly you've been in on a couple of those as well. Plus you save Neville and my hides with that troll, covering up for us, thanks for that."
"That was first year! How did Neville and you become friends, if you don't mind?"
"Not at all. Remember his Remembrall, well I returned it to him in the hospital wing and we got to talking, we have the same birthday, and other things in common."
"I always wondered why Neville was friends with a prat like you, but I guess you aren't so bad."
"I have my moments," he joked.
"I know, I've seen a few," she smiled.
"Sorry."
She just shook her head, he sure did say sorry an awful lot, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you just say sorry?" He shrugged. There definitely was much more to figure out about Potter...
Saturday "WELCOME TO THE FIRST QUIDDITICH MATCH OF THE SEASON! GRYFINDOR VERSUS THE DEFENDING CUP CHAMPION SLYTHERIN! FIRST THE GRYFINDORS!" Boos from a quarter of the crowd, "PARKER! JACKSON! ZIMMERMAN! SLOPER! KIRKE! WEASLEY! AND CAPTAIN WEASLEY! NOW THE SLYTHERINS!" Boos from seventy-five percent of the crowd, "NOTT! MALFOY! ZABINI! CRABBE! GOYLE! MCCARTY! AND CAPTAIN POTTER!"
"Captains, shake hands, Potter, Weasley," the two shook hands before returning to there positions, "I want a good clean match," Madam Hooch directed, before tossing up the Quaffle.
"AND THE QUAFFLES UP! TAKEN BY NOTT, OW SLOPER JUST PRACTICALLY TOOK ZIMMERMAN OFF HER BROOM, ZABINI SCORES!
TEN TO ZERO SLYTHERIN.
PARKER HAS THE QUAFFLE, AH! GRYFINDOR BEATER KIRKE JUST HIT HER IN THE EYE!
MALFOY PICKS UP THE QUAFFLE PASSES TO NOTT, GOAL!
WEASLEY PASSES THE QUAFFLE OUT, RIGHT TO MALFOY, THIRTY TO ZERO SLYTHERIN.
JACKSON TAKES THE QUAFFLE, CRASH RIGHT INTO CRABBE, THAT HAD TO HURT!
ZABINI PICKS UP THE QUAFFLE."
"COME ON SPIDER," Harry yells from his perch looking for the snitch.
"URGH! WEASLEY'S FALLING OFF HIS BROOM! ZABINI SCORES...
MALFOY SCORES...
NOTT SCORES...
SIXTY TO ZERO,
NO SEVENTY,
NO EIGHTY,
GET BACK ON YOUR BROOM WEASLEY!" The announcer expressed the sentiments of the crowd.
"NINETY, ZIMMERMAN HAS THE QUAFFLE! WOW! ABSOLUTELY SPECTACULAR SAVE BY KEEPER MCCARTY!
MALFOY TAKES THE QUAFFLE TO ZABINI TO NOTT GOAL,
ONE-HUNDRED TO ZERO, JACKSON AWW! MALFOY GOAL
ONE HUNDRED AND TEN TO ZERO.
HORRIBLE! SLOPERS JUST CRASHED INTO ZABINI!
PENALTY TO SLYTHERIN."
"SPIDER! SPIDER! SPIDER!," chants the Slytherin portion of the crowd, boos from the rest.
"AHHH! SPIDER! WHERE? WHERE?" Ron Weasley exclaims in fright as...
"ZABINI SCORES ON THE PENALTY.
ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY TO ZERO.
ZIMMERMAN PASSES, NOTT SCORES,
ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY TO ZERO.
JACKSON HAS IT OVER TO, URGH INTERCEPTION BY MALFOY!
TO ZABINI GOAL, ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY TO ZERO."
High above the pitch, "Would you like me to end your teams misery now?"
"In your dreams Potter."
"POTTER MUST HAVE SEEN THE SNITCH! HE'S DIVING!
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY TO ZERO SLYTHERIN,
WEASLEY'S FOLLOWING, THERE HURTLING TOWARDS THE GROUND
THERE FEET FROM THE GROUND
A FOOT! POTTER'S PULLED UP!
WEASLEY'S CRASHED HEAD INTO THE PITCH!
WHAT A WRONSKI FEINT!
ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY TO ZERO.
POTTER'S ZOOMING TOWARD THE GRYFINDOR GOAL POSTS
AND HE'S GOT THE SNITCH!
THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY TO ZERO! SLYTHERIN WINS!
It's eleven o' clock and Hermione Granger is sitting in the Head Common Room reading a book, when, she's interuppted by someone in the hall singing off key, "Younidey," the cursing and kicking the door, "Open up damn it! Younidey!"
"Potter must be back from his victory party," Hermione said out loud, going over and opening the door.
"Herminniny Fank foo," Harry greeted.
"On a first name basis now?"
Harry shrugged, "Huh?"
"Have you made any trips to the Great White Porcelan god yet, Potter?" Hermione asked as he plopped backwards over the back of the couch and she closed the portrait and sat on the opposite end of the couch.
"Nah, that'd haff ta be rat-faced, pureblood fanatic, ferret boy Malfoy," Harry answered.
"So, his own house hates him too?"
"Deepends."
"What do you mean?"
"Thee Slytherin h'ouse is v'erry factioned, Pureblood fanatics, nuetrals, anti-Voldemort, plus depends on ya lineage, and it all splits more in more from there."
"Never knew that, well, before this year."
"Yeah, we put on a good public face, sticking together, like with Quidditich but, behind closed doors we're as different as butterbeer and firewhiskey."
"You talk more when your drunk."
"Do I? It's hot in here, SWEET!" he pulled a full bottle of firewhiskey out of one robe pocket and a boatload of sweets out of the other, then he pulled his robe over his head, to reveal a tattered pair of jeans, a... well from the looks of it, and t-shirt that had been cut apart and resewn to fit, by the looks of it.
"Want some whiskey? Frog? Beans?"
"Got any cups?"
"Jus a sec," and he dashed up stairs and returned with a mug, with only half of it's handle and a cracked glass.
"Which ya want?"
"Either," he filled them up and gave her the glass, while he took the mug.
"What's with your clothes? And why is your mug broken?"
"My cousin and that's what was left of the mug when I got to Hogwarts."
"Why?"
"Dudley was mad I won and he didn't so he threw me mug and I picked up the pieces, well what I could find, found the reparo charm first year, so I fixed it."
"Yet you never managed to repair your glasses! Occulus Reparo," she said with her wand pointed at his glasses.
"Nev'er occured to me."
"So you lived with muggles, which included a bully cousin before Hogwarts?"
"Yeah."
"Where?"
"Surrey."
"I live in London, outside of Hogwarts, my parents have a practice there."
"Practice doin' wha?"
"Dentistry."
"Tha't why ya got good teeth?"
"Partly."
"Why partly?"
"Cause of a hex Malfoy sent at someone else and hit me fourth year."
"What'd that rat-faced ferret bastard do to you!?"
"Gave me Beaver teeth, but Pomfrey fixed them, I had overly large front teeth, I had her shrink them smaller then there original size."
"I HATE THE HOSPITAL WING!"
"Why?"
"I spend way too much time there every year."
"Do you, why?"
"Voldemort, Quidditich, psycho, moronic or deatheater professors."
She laughed, "Who's the worst?"
"Of professors?" she nodded. "Lockhart was."
"What'd he do?"
"Removed my arm, had to drink that horrible Skele-grow, foul stuff, that is."
"Worse then this?" she asked, motioning to the firewhiskey.
"By a few kilometers."
"Really?"
"Yeah, and I think we've had enough, save some for another day, eh?"
"Sure and save me some, don' drink it all."
"For sure, promise I'll save it, night Hermione."
"Good night Potter, Harry." He nodded and headed up the staircase, and turned left at the landing to his door.
There's chapter 9, Chapter ten is entitled: I will kill you all, it's about half way written, almost done, hope you enjoyed this fun, pretty happy chapter, Ten will be sad, maybe even depressing.... please read, review, thanks to those who have.