A/N: So this one took a bit longer, but it's a far longer chapter than any I've written before. I actually had to cut it off, because I've lagged on responding to reviews and I'd like to finish that part up. Thanks for your patience! And by the way, I personally DESPISE this chapter, and I'll understand if you guys feel the same way. Feel free to tell me so.
Like clockwork every morning, Harry Potter woke up at five. He couldn't help it. It had been drilled into him from a young age, because Aunt Petunia woke up at six, and liked to have her breakfast ready and waiting by the time she stumbled into the kitchen fifteen minutes later.
But Harry was nervous and excited about his first day at a new school, and woke up at 4:30. Try as he might, he couldn't get back to sleep, and soon he rose, resigned. His bruises throbbed—the ones on his back fresh from last night's half-hearted beating—but he did his best to ignore the pain.
He dressed carefully, selecting a pair of slim gray hip huggers, his usual combat boots (the only pair of shoes he owned, in fact), and a tight, long-sleeved blue shirt that advertised his favorite movie, the original Crow. He spiked his hair with gel and added a little more eye makeup than he usually wore, smearing kohl around his eyes liberally. A quick glance in the mirror told him the bruise that marred his cheek had already faded significantly, blending into the deep gold of his tan.
Downstairs, he cooked breakfast for the Dursleys and left the plates warm in the oven. He tugged on his canvas trench coat, stepped into the bitter cold of the December morning, and walked quickly to Hermione's, hoping she was awake at the early hour.
Apparently she was, and watching for him, because she opened the door as soon as he approached it, still dressed in long-sleeved pajamas. Harry grimaced; they were baby blue and said 'Princess' all over them in flowery pink cursive.
"Harry," she whined, wincing at the pleading tone of her voice. "Help! What do I wear?"
Harry smirked. "Stand back, babe—I'm a professional."
Half an hour later, Hermione was standing in front of her full length mirror, trying not to squeal like an idiot. She was attired in one of the punkish business suits from yesterday's shopping trip. Her trousers fit snugly to the knees, where they flared out slightly into graceful bells, nearly hiding the toes of her shiny black wingtips. The vest was also form-fitting and matched the pants in material—elegant navy blue pinstripe. Beneath that, a simple, billowy white blouse she'd actually had for years flowed to her fingertips and softened the severity of the outfit. Her hair was in low pigtails, and a rakishly tilted fedora topped it all off. Her make up was very dark, a stark contrast to the light hazel of her eyes.
"You look gorgeous, Mione," Harry said, lying on her bed, wired and smoking cigarette after cigarette. Her room was starting to smell, but she was too delighted with herself to care.
"No one will even recognize me," she breathed. She imagined walking through the hallways. People would turn their heads to follow her progress. They would wonder who she was, where she was from. They might even think she was pretty.
"Hermy, Harry!" Mrs. Granger called from the kitchen, interrupting Hermione's musings. "You kids want some breakfast?"
Harry groaned. "I can't eat before noon, makes me sick," he told Hermione. She smiled at him.
"No, thanks, Mom! We're not hungry!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah!"
"…Hermione, is your door open?" her mother added a beat later.
Harry and Hermione looked at each other and burst into giggles.
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"Oh, bloody hell," Harry mumbled, lighting another Newport. He thought longingly of the vodka hidden under the loose floorboards in his room. Hermione glanced at him, frowning in disapproval.
"Harry, you aren't going to be able to finish that. We're three blocks from the school."
"I'll finish it, don't worry." He took a long, deep drag to illustrate his point.
"I don't know why you're so nervous," she continued, turning into the parking lot. "You love meeting new people, right? So calm down. Everything will be fine."
Harry took a deep breath and flicked his cigarette out the window, which was, true to his word, down to the filter. He suddenly thought of something and smiled, eyes distant. "Think I'll be having any classes with that bloke? Malfoy?"
Hermione's face screwed up like she'd just smelled something rotten. "More than likely. He's in two of mine." She guided the Jeep into a parking space near the front entrance.
Stonewall looked more like a prison than a school. Like its name, the building was of cold, gray stone, ancient and weathered. Students milled about on the front lawn, firmly enclosed within their little cliques and hopping up and down for warmth.
"Well," Harry murmured. "This is it."
Hermione looked at her friend in concern. "Come on, Harry," she said gently. "It's not all that bad. We'll have classes together, and lunch, and you'll make tons of new friends. Why wouldn't you? You're a fantastic guy."
Harry sighed and fidgeted in his seat. "I'm not worried about making new friends, Hermione. That's the easy part. It's just, you know, I kind of miss Surrey. I love that I've met you, of course," he amended quickly, "but back in England, I had…I had a boyfriend, and so many friends, and a life. And now…starting over, in another country…it's a little trying."
Hermione turned off the car. She leaned over and, surprising herself, took Harry's hand in her own. "You miss him," she said, and it wasn't a question, but Harry answered it anyway.
He shook his head a little, fighting to find the words. "I do, I miss him a lot, but I was never in love with Cedric, and our relationship was very…open. It was almost as if we were the best of friends, with the added benefit of mutual sex." He smiled sheepishly at her. "Ah, but I don't know what I'm blathering about. Let's go, shall we?"
Hermione smiled back and nodded. They got out and she locked the car. When she came around to the other side, Harry took her hand warmly in his. She loved how affectionate Harry was.
As they passed the kids on the lawn, some of them stopped talking and turned to stare after the strange but beautiful pair. Whispers followed them as they walked into school. Hermione was blushing, but Harry was snickering quietly.
"They're talking about us," she hissed as they pushed open the doors and warmth hit them like a welcome blanket.
"Get used to it, sweetheart," Harry told her, putting his arm around her shoulders. She leaned easily into the contact, settling her own arm around Harry's slender, girlish hips and linking her fingers into the belt loop of his coat. "When you look as good as we do, people are bound to talk." Hermione was seized by a fit of bashful giggles.
Hermione showed Harry where the office was, and as he opened the door, the bell rang. She gave him a lingering hug, ignoring the small voice in her head that wished Harry wasn't into guys. "I've got to go to my locker before class, so I'll see you later, okay?"
He looked around at the hallways, quickly filling with people, and nodded. "See you around, love." He took a moment to compose himself. His face settled into an easy, cocky smile, and he strode into the office. Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled at this, and began to head towards her locker.
If she hadn't been thinking about how Harry was going to fare on his first day, Hermione would have realized that people in the hallway were doing exactly what she'd hoped for: following her with their eyes, and wondering who the beautiful new girl was.
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The receptionist told Harry to go ahead into the principal's private office. With a cursory knock, he pulled open the door and smiled with amusement at what he saw.
The old man looked like the classic perception of a benevolent wizard, except for the sharp blue business suit he was wearing. He had a long, flowing white beard that disappeared behind the desk, and half-moon spectacles that were perched precariously on the tip of his large, crooked nose. He glanced up at Harry and blue eyes twinkled merrily from beneath bushy brows. If he hadn't been so thin, he could have passed for Santa Claus.
He was speaking into the phone, and gestured for Harry to sit down meanwhile.
"Yes, Minerva?" Harry was delighted to hear that the man had a distinctly English accent. "Could you please send down Mr. Weasley? Ah, no, not that one, I meant Ronald. Yes. Yes. You, too, Minerva. Thank you." He hung up the phone and turned to look at Harry with a smile.
"Mr. Harry Potter, I presume?"
Harry lounged back in his chair, tilting it up with one foot. "Yes, sir."
"But of course. I'm Principal Dumbledore." He leaned forward and stared into Harry's eyes intently. If the boy was uncomfortable, he didn't show it. Satisfied, Dumbledore leaned back again and smiled through his beard. "You look so very much like your father—but you have your mother's eyes."
Harry's chair legs hit the floor with a thump and he gaped at Dumbledore. "What? You knew my parents?"
"Indeed I did, Mr. Potter, indeed I did. I used to teach mathematics in Surrey ages ago. Your parents were among my pupils. Very bright, the both of them." His eyes twinkled manically. "I suppose we can expect the same from you?"
"Ahh…" Harry shifted, and now he was uncomfortable. "I, uhh, I'll try my best, sir," he said lamely.
"Well, that's all we can hope for then, eh? Here's your schedule, Mr. Potter. I hope you'll find everything in order?" Harry read over the schedule briefly, grimacing when he saw that he had chemistry, and grinning when he saw he had P.E.
"Looks good to me," he told Dumbledore. There was a knock on the door.
"Do come in, Mr. Weasley." Christ, Harry thought, that twinkling is getting kind of creepy…
A tall, lanky boy stumbled in, all knees and elbows and awkward grace. Harry was pleased to see he wasn't dressed as perfectly as many of the people he'd seen in the hallways. His shirt was baggy and had a random, bright red 'X' slashed across it, and his pants were equally baggy, with long straps that crisscrossed at calculated intervals. He was eye-catching, to say the least—not because he had any piercings, because he didn't, or because he was beautiful, because the word to describe him was 'cute'—but because his hair was a bright, flaming orange.
He smiled at Dumbledore, a sweet, goofy sort of grin that made Harry want to pat him on the head. Then he noticed Harry, looking up at him amusedly with brilliant emerald eyes lost in a sea of black kohl. He gave a small start, and said, "Whoa!" loudly, before he could stop himself.
Harry laughed.
"Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, obviously choosing to ignore this little exchange. "This is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Ronald Weasley. He's going to be showing you around and answering any questions you may have about the school or your classes."
"I am?" the Weasley boy asked with surprise. "Oh. Umm…'kay." He looked at Harry askance. "I'm Ron," he announced, "and I'll be your tour guide today." He swept into a flamboyant bow. Harry laughed again, liking him.
"You boys should get going. Mr. Weasley, just show him to his first class for now. First hour is," Dumbledore added, glancing at his pocket watch, "over in only fifteen more minutes, so be quick. I will be informing all of your teachers, Mr. Weasley, that you may be late to each class today because of your duties. But, please, don't abuse the privilege, hmm?" The principal looked knowingly at the boys, who both suddenly found their shoes a very interesting study, hiding identical grins.
"You're free to go," he added, shuffling through the mess of papers on his desk.
Ron made for the door, and Harry followed him out.
In the hallway, Ron turned to Harry and smiled. "So, did you and your family just move here?"
"Yes," replied Harry, "from England." He looked around at the empty hallway. "Could you help me find my locker? I want to unload a little before class." He held up his backpack, from which part of his skateboard protruded oddly.
"Sure. Wicked awesome accent, by the way. What's the number?"
"Umm, four-five-eight."
"This way, then."
As they walked, Ron chatted non-stop, much to Harry's amusement. "Stonewall's not so bad—there's an open campus, so you can leave at lunch time and get something to eat or whatever. And you get a study hall after fifth hour, but Mr. Black doesn't really make you study, he just tells everyone these really funny stories about all the stupid stuff he did when he was our age. There are some teachers to watch out for, though—especially Mr. Snape, the chemistry teacher; he hates everyone. Well, everyone but this guy Malfoy, who's a total jacka—"
"Malfoy?" Harry interrupted. "Oh, we've met."
Ron raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, you have? Then you know what I'm talking about. He thinks he's so cool, with his little jock friends and his BMW. There are a lot of idiots who idolize him and follow him around and shit. It's pathetic."
"Hmm, I'll bet," Harry replied neutrally. Ron pointed out his locker, in the main hall, and Harry read the combination off while Ron opened it. He pulled his skateboard out and stuffed it in, listening with interest as Ron ranted on about Malfoy.
"—and he's always making these snide remarks about the size of my family and throwing pencils and shit at people in class—"
Malfoy really did sound like an asshole. Harry was intrigued.
"Harry? Hey, Harry!"
"What?" he said when he realized Ron was trying to get his attention.
"There's, like, ten minutes left in first hour. What's your first class?"
"Oh. Let's see…ermm, world history."
"Oh, lucky you. Mr. Binns teaches that class. It's really boring, and since you have it in the morning you can just take a nap. Don't worry, he never notices, or if he does, he doesn't care. You wanna hang out at lunch? We can go to the Java Hut."
Harry tried to keep up with the abrupt changes in subject. "Yes, that sounds like fun. May I bring a friend?"
Ron shrugged. "No problem. Here we are. Meet me by your locker when the bell rings. You remember where it is?"
"Yeah. See you later, Ron," Harry called to the redhead's retreating back.
He opened the door.
"—and so, as Caesar lay dying of multiple stab wounds, he looked into the eyes of his trusted advisor, Brutus, and declared, 'Et tu, Brute!', which means something along the lines of, 'You, too, Brutus,' and after he died, Rome—oh. Can I help you young man?" An elderly, myopic man who looked like he had one foot in the grave turned to look at Harry questioningly. The class, which had been, for the most part, dozing off, woke up and gaped at the pierced young man.
Harry winked at them and said, "Yes, sir, I'm Harry Potter, your new student." A few girls in the classroom, the ones who liked bad boys, felt their hearts flutter, and everyone began whispering at the sound of his accent.
The man squinted at him for a moment, then slowly trudged over to his desk and marked something down on a clipboard. "Yes, yes. Take a seat, Mr. Potter. We were just learning about the effects Caesar's death had on Rome. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. After Caesar died—" and he droned on, apparently forgetting Harry entirely as he began to write on the board in a slow, trembling scrawl. Harry looked at him doubtfully before choosing the only available seat—next to a girl in the back of the room wearing quite a lot of pink. He was disappointed to discover Draco Malfoy was not in this class.
"Hi," the girl whispered, leaning much closer to Harry than was necessary in order to offer her hand. "I'm Lavender Brown. You're from England, aren't you? We have another boy here who has an accent kind of like yours, only he's from Ireland. Weird guy. His name's Seamus Finnigan. I'd avoid him, but my friend Pavarti is like, totally in love with him, so we're always around him and he makes these totally dorky jokes. Are you excited to be here? Where do you live? I live in Stonewall Heights, which is right near the school, like a block away, but I still drive to school because walking even a block in stilettos is, like, really hard. Do you have a girlfriend?"
Eyes wide, Harry edged away from her. He glanced around at his fellow students for help, many of which looked at him pityingly but none who offered assistance.
"No," he told Lavender cautiously.
"Oooh!" she squealed, bouncing in her seat and fluttering her eyelashes. "I don't have a boyfriend; isn't that a coincidence, Harry?"
"I'm the market for one," he said, taking the easy way out.
She smiled coquettishly. "For what, a girlfriend?"
"No." He smirked at her. "A boyfriend."
She blinked at him. "A…a boy…oh. Oh."
The rest of the hour was spent in silence as his classmates snuck curious glances at him out of the corners of their eyes. Harry took Ron's advice, and took a nap.
When the bell rang, Harry grabbed his pack and shot out of the class, smiling widely as he heard the flurry of gossip that followed him out.
Much to Harry's disappointment, he didn't have any classes with Hermione or Malfoy by the time lunch rolled around. He did see Hermione in the hallway once, however, and stopped to chat.
"So?" he prodded, and that one word unleashed a volume from Hermione, whose eyes were glowing with happiness.
"Harry, no one even recognized me and everyone was so surprised to learn who I was! Even my teachers asked if I was a new student! People are talking to me now, and I even noticed a few guys checking me out! There was this one that really caught my eye—oh, Harry, he's so cute! I don't even know his name but I smiled at him and he smiled at me and I nearly fainted! This is the greatest day of my life!"
Harry laughed at Hermione's exuberance and she was so caught up in her happiness that she didn't even blush. "How's your day coming along?" she thought to ask after a moment.
"Fine," he answered, "but not nearly as exciting as yours, apparently. People—mostly girls—seem taken with the whole English thing. It's already rampant about the school, I'm sure, that I'm gay. Oh, by the way, I met this boy—"
"Ooh, possible boyfriend material?" she interrupted teasingly.
He laughed again. "Somehow, I doubt it. Anyway, his name is Ron, and he invited us to go to Java Hut at lunch time with some of his friends. How 'bout it?"
The old, nervous Hermione was back in a flash. "Oh, I don't know, Harry. I probably wouldn't know anyone there…"
"Well, neither will I, and if worse comes to worst, we can leave. Come on, Mione," he coaxed, giving her his most charming smile. "It'll be fun."
"Well, alright, I'll meet you out front later," she agreed reluctantly, and then the bell rang for fourth hour and they both rushed off to their respective classes. Harry lost more time looking for Ron, and finally found him by the water fountain. He looked worried, and his expression flooded with relief when he spotted Harry.
"Harry, I've been looking all over for you! Come on, man! What class do you have next, because I have chemistry and even though Principal Dumbledore warned all of my teachers that I'd be late, Mr. Snape has it out for me and if I'm not there pronto…" He trailed off, hopping anxiously from foot to foot.
Harry gave him a weird look. "I'm sure it won't be so bad. I have chemistry now, too. Lead the way."
Ron blew out his breath in a huff of relieved air. "Sorry to say this, but I'm glad you'll get nailed for this, too. It's easier when he has two people to yell at."
Harry smirked. "He's not Jesus Christ incarnate, Ron," he said as they arrived at the chemistry classroom. Ron gave him a look, hand on the doorknob.
"More like Satan," he warned the raven-haired boy. They entered the classroom, Harry shaking his head with amusement.
Immediately, he scanned the classroom and felt his spirits soar as his eyes met with cold gray steel. Malfoy! Malfoy was in this class with him! He restrained himself from doing an ecstatic jig, unsure as to why he had developed such an obsession with the stuck up little prat, but happy nonetheless.
"Mr. Weasley, would you please care to explain why you are nearly ten minutes late to my class, and have someone I have never seen before with you?" snapped a bitter, sneering voice to Harry's left. He looked over at the person, and felt an instant grimace of distaste contract his face.
The grimace was mirrored on the professor's face, but far less attractively. Greasy, knotted hair hung about a sallow face that was overshadowed by his huge nose. His eyes were black, beady, and downright hostile. His suit hung loosely on his thin frame and gave the impression of sloppiness.
"Uhh…uhh…Mr….uhh…" Harry became aware that poor Ron was stuttering incoherently, paralyzed. Harry decided to take pity on him and save the day.
"New student," he drawled, allowing Snape to see the insolence in his eyes. "I'm Harry Potter. Ron was showing me to class, which is why we're late."
"That is not an excuse," the teacher replied promptly. "Detention, the both of you." And just like that, Snape dismissed them and turned away.
"No." The class gasped as one, and Snape spun sharply to stare at Harry in disbelief.
"What did you just say?" he hissed through his teeth.
"I said, no, you can't give us detention," Harry replied calmly, never breaking eye contact. "Principal Dumbledore's given us special leave. I do believe he's already told you that; however, if you'd like to check, you can always call him."
Someone behind him—Harry thought it might have been Malfoy—muffled a snicker.
"Well?" he prodded when Snape continued to stare at him.
"Sit down," Snape barked furiously. "This is the one time I will make an exception. You are never to expect any further special treatment from me, Mr. Potter. The same goes for you, Weasley. Take your seats."
As Harry strode leisurely to his seat, he caught Malfoy's gaze again, the other boy's face showing the slightest hint of approval. With a secretive little smile, Harry winked at him. Surprisingly, Malfoy blushed and looked away immediately.
That's promising, Harry decided, taking his seat.
An hour later, staring at the back of Malfoy's platinum blonde head and ignoring the not-so-subtle attempts Ron was making to get his attention, Harry was drifting off despite himself. Snape had a talent for making chemistry seem like the most boring class on the face of the planet.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, perhaps you can tell us?"
Harry looked up with a jerk. Snape and most of the class, including Malfoy, were looking at him expectantly.
After an extended period of silence, it became obvious that Harry had absolutely no idea what was going on. Snape nodded to himself, satisfied.
"Do you think you're special, Mr. Potter?" he inquired silkily. He didn't wait for an answer. "Do you think that you are exempt from the duties I assign the rest of the class? Because you are not. If I catch you not paying attention again, there will be consequences. From what I have gathered here today about you, I believe I will take a great pleasure in failing you, along with the more than half of this class that is too slow and too foolish to understand the delicate properties of chemistry." The bell rang, punctuating Snape's biting analysis of Harry Potter's poor character.
Harry glanced at Malfoy, who was smirking and whispering something to a pug-faced blonde girl sitting next to him. His girlfriend, Harry deduced, as she laughed and glanced in his direction cattily.
"You are all dismissed," Snape announced. As Harry packed up, he caught Snape's eye and smiled slowly, fully aware that he was provoking the hook-nosed man and enjoying every second of it. When Snape opened his mouth to say something, Harry swished out of the classroom, trying not to laugh.
"Damn, Harry!" Ron said with admiration. He had been waiting for him outside the door. He high-fived the shorter boy enthusiastically. "Way to take Snape down!"
It was lunch time, so the two of them headed towards the parking lot, laughing and joking about the disasterous chemistry class.
"Harry! Harry, wait up!" Hermione called, running up to them, hat askew. Harry grinned at the adorable picture she made, pigtails flying and bright-eyed. As she approached, she caught sight of Ron and blushed as fiercely as Harry had ever seen her. Ron was, Harry discovered, about the same color.
"Hermione, this is Ron Weasley; Ron, this is Hermione Granger," he introduced them, watching closely.
"Pleased to meet you," Hermione mumbled, staring at her feet. Ron responded in kind. Harry smothered the smile trying to surface.
In the parking lot, Hermione pulled him aside, flailing a little in her excitement. "Harry! That's the guy! Ron's the guy who checked me out and smiled at me earlier! Ohmigod! He's so cute! Ohmigod!"
Alarmed, Harry put his arm around her shoulders and gently led her farther from the group of people accumulating around Ron. "Mione, calm down!" he said, half-seriously. "You're going to hyperventilate or something."
Giving Harry an embarrassed smile, she fought to regain her composure. "It's all so new to me," she said by way of explanation.
"Come on," he urged, tugging at her. Neither noticed Ron's jealous gaze watching them as they linked hands. "I want to go socialize!"
Giggling, Hermione allowed herself to be dragged to the Jeep. "Meet you at the Java Hut!" Harry called back to Ron.
He looked at Hermione pleadingly. "Mione, love, darling, sweet—can I drive?"
"Hell no!" she scoffed, climbing into the driver's seat.
A/N: Okay. There. I'm getting my hair cut tonight, woot woot. I'm going to get something even funkier than my usual style. Maybe I'll get the sides buzzed and leave the top long and hawk it or something...
Responses for the Reviews:
emedragon: Oh, wow, thank you so much! The best you've ever read? I'm honored beyond all appearances.
Angels Whisper: I hope this chapter made you smile as well. Enjoy!
Sheyda: Thanks, and I took your advice. I appreciate it a lot!
iced-forest: Yeah, three broken toes, lol. Damn concerts Thanks for the review!
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Flame-OF-Ciara: Hmm, I don't know. Maybe Tom Riddle will pop up somewhere as another high school kid who can't stand Harry, or something, but no promises. Thanks!
Raven's Light: My relatives ARE driving me nuts! They found out that I smoke and I've been getting flack ever since. I really enjoyed talking to you the other night, and thanks for reviewing.
medusa-oblangada: Sadly, no, but I could send you the chapter if you'd care to give me your email..though, come to think of it, you might be unable to see this one as well...because it's longer than the fourth....heh.
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Slash-lover: Harry's an accomplished liar. Everything will eventually be revealed, however.
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lita-2003: This only half the school day, sorry...thanks for the review!
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ura-hd: Thank you, I'm so glad you're enjoying it.
dea puella: Well, I was thinking the beginning of December would be good, so they'd have two or three weeks of school and then the Christmas holiday. The cold weather centers around it, you know? Thanks!
Hawkenten: Oh, yes, there will definately be a party in Harry's immediate feature--a chance to show the readers his wild side! Lol. Thanks so much!
All American19: O.O Did I say it was around summer? Crap. I hope I didn't...I'll have to go back and check, though. Thanks!
HitTheFloor04: I go to Hudson High. And you're right, I have no idea where Seminole is. Man, on my birthday yesterday it was 32 degrees outside and I was so happy. Thanks for reviewing!
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Little Sweetling: More Draco to come, love, no worries. Hope you liked this chapter as well!
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doughgurl2008: She'll figure it out within the next, say, two or three chapters. That sounds about right. Thank you!
Alright, guys. Happy Holidays!