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Chapter 7

A Short Tale of Run-in's and Battered Breakfast's

"Wake up! Wake up!"

"Chikusho," growled Harry, slinging his hand out from under his covers to smack his alarm clock. It was a small, wind-up piece of machinery that was charmed to yell at him at various moments. Apparently the contraption knew his schedule… The gods knew how it did.

Next it'd be yelling at him to tuck in his shirt. Oh, wait…that was what the mirror was for…

"WAKE UP!"

"I'm up, damn you, you fool contraption," snarled Harry, slapping the wind-up clock again. He silently cursed the clock, which had been a gift from Dumbledore, as he flung his covers back and rolled out of bed. Two Galleons said that by the time the school year was a month in, the clock would be dead.

Grumbling under his breath, he stalked across the room to his wardrobe, pulling the shirt he'd slept in over his head and tossing it into a nearby basket. He grabbed a deep green sleeveless shirt from a hanger and pulled it over his head, barely registering that the word 'Baka' was now displayed across his chest.

Pulling his long hair from underneath the shirt, he gathered it up and wadded it into a mass atop his head. His heavy, velvet cap was plunked down on top of it a moment later, effectively keeping his hair out of his way and hiding his ears at the same time.

Grabbing up the black robes he'd thrown off the night before, he shrugged into them and – without bothering to close them – grabbed his bag and left his room.

As he stepped out into the corridor, he slung his bag onto his shoulder then turned to walk towards the entrance to the regular dorms. Despite the fact that he slept in a different area, he was still able to lounge in his own House's common room. Not that he didn't have a small living area in his own quarters but the common room seemed like it would be a much warmer place that his little space.

"Vescor excessum," he said to the serpent-shaped torch brackets that flanked the entrance to the Slytherin dorms.

The space between the two brackets gaped open and he stepped into the common room, instantly regretting his original thoughts about the place.

His time would be better spent in his own living area.

The Slytherin common room was slightly bare and drab looking, its décor done up in the deep green and shimmering silver of the House. Most of the furniture looked as though it was bought second-hand and a few of the tapestries hanging on the walls looked like they were spotted with blood.

Harry sniffed and winced as he did indeed smell the scent of old blood. There was a story behind those tapestries, as there was a story about nearly everything in Hogwarts.

"Stop it!" shrieked a voice from behind a door looming at the back of the room. "Leave me alone!"

A scowl made its way onto his features as Harry stormed across the room and threw the door open, his eyes blazing. Instantly a small body hurled itself onto him and hugged his waist for dear life. He glanced down at the golden head pillowed against his stomach then lifted his eyes to glower at the three eleven-year-old girls who were glaring at him.

"What's going on here?" he growled, trying not to let an actual growl out. But he hated to see anyone bullied, as it seemed his new friend was, and when he found bullies he couldn't help but let his demon side out a little. It hated them as much as he did.

"Nothing," snipped one of them, a dark-haired wraith of a girl with watery gray eyes.

The han-akurei's eyes narrowed imperiously at her and she quavered. Harry arched an eyebrow and looked at the two other girls, who were both sneering at him.

"Nothing," he sneered. "Really? Do tell me another one because I truly don't believe it."

"We were only teasing the little mutt," grumbled one of the other girls. Harry fixed his attention on her, noting her obscenely bright orange hair and shrewd blue eyes. "It's not like she deserves any better."

Harry loosed another growl at that, causing the three girls to shrink back. Then again, that could also be because of the now angry aura that surrounded him.

"She deserves more than the three of you combined and tripled," sneered Harry, fixing his emerald gaze on each of them. "You shouldn't judge people on their blood nor the circumstances they were born into but by the person that they are. I suggest you three learn that."

With that, Harry bent and scooped up the girl who still hugged his waist into his arms, turning to leave without another word or glance at the other first years. He stalked through the common room and out into the corridor, glaring at everything in his path until he reached the painting of Salazar Slytherin's wife, who was the guardian of his rooms.

"What happened?" asked Myelin Slytherin née Gryffindor, her fathomless gray eyes focused worriedly on the girl in Harry's arms.

"The little brat's she's roomed with," growled the han-akurei. "No doubt calling her a Mudblood and telling her she's no good."

Godric Gryffindor's little sister's face clouded with anger and she snarled, "If I wasn't dead, I'd go and rake those girls from ass to ears. There were no such things as this in Salazar's days!"

Harry smirked and said, "Perhaps because there were no Muggleborns?"

Myelin gave him an odd look at that.

"Now where did you get that? Of course there were Muggleborns in those days! Humphf. Those historians. Thinking they know everything about the Founders. They changed things to what they wanted people to hear. That's the reason our House is so looked down upon!"

"Indeed," said Harry, fully intrigued by the woman's tale. "Perhaps we can discuss that more later, m'lady? It sounds like it could be a very interesting conversation."

"Of course, my dear."

"Later then. Aika-chan."

Myelin smiled as he said the password he'd given her when he'd first moved into the rooms. As she swung outward, Harry took a precautionary step back to avoid himself or his burden being hit before he moved into his rooms once more.

Juggling the blonde girl in one arm, he dropped his bag onto the floor then moved through the front room to his bedroom. Laying her down amidst his rumpled covers, he pulled most of the sheets over her then bent and brushed nearly dried tears from her cheeks.

Violet eyes peeked open at his touch and Wencia mumbled, "Harry…"

"Shh," he whispered, easing himself down onto the large bed beside her. "You look like Hell warmed over, Wen."

"You say the sweetest things," she murmured, violet eyes twinkling softly with mirth.

Harry smiled down at her and said, "Yeah, I know. Sorry, I didn't come to the rescue sooner."

"S'okay. I've got to learn to stand up for myself anyway." She yawned suddenly and flushed as she did so. "Sorry."

"Don't be," said Harry. "I expect you didn't get much sleep with those three if this morning is any indication."

Wencia nodded feebly and Harry smiled tightly, feeling his anger at the three girls rise again. How dare they insult their own Housemate, be she Muggleborn or Pureblood? Where was the damned loyalty in this school? Where were the things that William and Haia had taught him about?

Were they simply figments of their age? Were the only honorable people left those older than himself?

He hoped not.

"Try and get a little sleep," murmured Harry, brushed her blonde hair away from her face. "There's about an hour and a half until classes start so you should get what sleep you can. I'm going to nip down to the Hall and grab up some breakfast, okay?"

"Mmm-hmm," mumbled Wencia sleepily as she curled into a ball.

Harry smiled at her and patted her head before he rose and left his rooms for the second time that morning, this time with his original destination in mind.

- - -

"I can't believe the nerve of him! That self-centered, masochistic pig of a boy! How dare he tell me what to do and what not to?"

Hermione stormed into the Great Hall, peeved beyond belief at the conversation she'd had with Ron not five minutes before. She had told him she was going to go down to try and find their new year mate and he had exploded, shouting about her deserting her House and flirting with the enemy.

She'd have slapped him if his little sister Ginny hadn't beaten her to it.

"Of all of dumb things to…oomph!"

"Chikusho!"

Hermione looked up at the odd word snarled by a masculine voice and found herself staring into the most brilliant pair of emerald eyes she'd ever seen. Her mouth dropped open as she stared unabashfully into their depths.

A split second later she regained her wits and stammered, "I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going!"

"Obviously," grumbled the male voice. The green eyes narrowed at her for a moment before they closed as their owner heaved a sigh. "Though its probably as much my fault as yours. I wasn't watching where I was going either."

Two warm, narrow hands with long fingers wound themselves about Hermione's wrists and she found herself quite suddenly on her feet.

And with a broad expanse of black-shirted chest in front of her face.

Tilting her head back, she found herself looking up into the face of the very person she'd been looking for. Her cheeks flushed bright as she thought, What a fool I've just made of myself.

"Are you alright?" asked Harry, eying her critically.

Hermione stared at him for a moment before her jaw loosened enough to allow her to speak.

"Quite alright," she replied, trying not to stare at him. She straightened her robes instead and noticed the plate sitting at their feet, the food that had obviously once been upon it scattered. "Oh dear…"

Harry chuckled and Hermione looked up to see amusement in his eyes. He tilted his head at a jaunty angle and with the floppy, leather-brimmed cap atop his head he looked the perfect picture of a misfit teenager from a Dickens novel.

"Oh dear indeed," he said softly, eying the food. "Nothing a little wandwork won't fix, however."

He drew his wand from a sheath strapped onto his arm and Hermione started a little at the sight of it. It was not a wand like any she had ever seen – except perhaps in the old tales of Merlin from the Muggle world. The wood was pure white without a trace of dirt or grime upon it. Not a scratch marred the beautiful wood as it extended from its handle with a graceful spin that reminded her of a unicorn's horn. Her eyes moved to where Harry's hand grasped it and she could only compare it to that of how a lover would caress their partner.

The scattered food gathered back onto the plate at a flick of Harry's wand and he bent to pick it up, not noticing Hermione's look until he straightened. When he did, he blushed, blood rushing to his cheeks hurriedly to color them a dark pink.

The bushy-haired girl noticed this and exclaimed, "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to stare…its just that your wand is – well, its beautiful."

Harry smiled at that; a small, simple smile that Hermione knew was going to have girls after him once they saw it. He looked down at the length of white wood and murmured, "Yes, it is beautiful, isn't it? Its maker meant it to be as such."

"You actually know a wand maker?"

"Not in the flesh," said Harry sadly. "My father made this for my mother. It's one of the few things I have of him."

"I'm sorry."

Harry looked at her and smiled, his eyes reflecting the expression.

"Don't be. I'm Harry, by the way."

"I know," said Hermione with an amused smile that he returned. "Hermione Granger."

"Ah. Malfoy said I should avoid you."

"Humphf! He would, the prat. I swear, Ron's almost as bad as him sometimes!"

"Ron?" asked Harry, his eyebrows dipping in confusion.

"My fellow Prefect. I'm more of a friend to his sister than him yet he insists on following me around like a kicked puppy. One day I may very well actually kick him."

Harry laughed and said, "Do call me when you do. I love to see a good ass kicking."

"It's a date," said Hermione, blushing a little at her words. She coughed then and asked, "Are you not eating in the Hall?"

Harry's face clouded at that and she made another mental note to never see him when he got angry.

"No," he growled. "A friend of mine was…accosted…this morning by her dormmates. She didn't get much sleep because of them so I came to get breakfast while she got a little rest."

" 'She?' " said Hermione.

"A first year," explained the dark-haired boy. "If you want, you can come and meet her. I'm certain we have enough food… In fact, I am hereby ordering you to come with me and help us eat this mound of food I've managed to procure." He grinned wryly at her, white teeth barely flashing from between his lips, as he added, "After all, you are the one who made me drop it."

"Now see here! You said that you weren't looking where you were going either!"

Harry grinned again and said, "I lied. Come now, my dear Prefect. After all…you're supposed to show me about the school, aren't you?"

Hermione glared at him for using her job against her but found that she couldn't really be annoyed at him.

"Fine," she growled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Lead on."

"Of course, m'lady," purred Harry, bowing mockingly towards her. She batted at his elbow as he passed her, which he dodged easily. Chuckling, she followed him out into the corridor, eying his lanky form as it strode towards its destination, one arm occupied by the plate and the other by the robes he had taken off.

She eyed the jeans and t-shirt he wore and smiled appreciatively. Thank Merlin he'd taken that robe off!

That long body was just too sexy to hide under it.

Down, Hermione, she thought to herself a second later. Down…

- - -

"Back so soon, Harry? And with another stray, I see!"

Harry laughed heartily and smiled at Myelin.

"Back, yes, but not with a stray. This is Hermione Granger. Hermione, meet Myelin Slytherin née Gryffindor.

"What?" said Hermione in surprise.

Myelin chuckled and said, "Ah, the general reaction. Yes, Godric was my brother. And, yes, I did marry Salazar. No, he did not hate Muggles and Muggleborns and I'll beat anyone who says so into submission!"

"She's so feisty, isn't she?" said Harry softly to Hermione. Myelin overheard him and mock-glared.

"Not another word, you imp," she growled. "Now go inside and take care of that child you've put your mark on."

"Yes, ma'am," said Harry as the painting moved aside without him giving the password. He slipped in and pulled a dazed looking Hermione in after him, chuckling softly at her.

She noticed this a moment later and slapped his shoulder lightly, snapping, "Laughing at my expense! How dare you!"

"Everyone needs a laugh now and then, Mia-san," said Harry. "You don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

"What does it mean?"

"I just shortened your name a little and added one of our common suffix's to it. Our being the Japanese," he added hastily. "It's the most common."

"So I can call you Harry-san?" she asked.

"Or Harry-kun."

"What's the difference?"

"Kun is normally used for boys," replied Harry as he set the plate of food down on a table near the center of the room. "San is also used for Mr., Mrs., or Miss. Dono is Sir or Madam; kyou is Lord, Lady, or Dame; denka is used for the royal family and heika is for the king or queen. Chan is for friends, family, or children, shi is for professionals like doctors, and sensei as well as sempai can be used for professors. Kun can also be used for girls sometimes."

"That's a lot of suffix's."

"We are a complicated people," said Harry. He sat the plate of food down on a table near the fireplace then walked over into the next room to the bed that Wencia was curled up on. Leaning over, he gently shook her shoulder. "Wake up, Wen…"

"No class today, Mummy…" mumbled the young girl. "Too tired…"

Harry heard a muffled chuckle from behind him and grinned, shaking the girl again.

"Wen, its Harry."

Violet eyes snapped open and Wencia rolled over onto her back to look up at him in surprise, her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.

"Oh. Hi, Harry."

"Good morning," said Harry with a wry grin. "We have a visitor for breakfast."

"Really?" said Wencia, sitting up excitedly. She saw Hermione and leapt up, rushing past Harry to run over to the girl. "Hi!"

Hermione smiled down at the energetic girl and said, "Hello, there. What's your name?"

"Wencia du Val."

"That's a pretty name," said Hermione with a smile. She then looked at Harry and asked, "And how'd you meet him?"

Wencia grinned as she replied, "Ran into him."

"Really? So did I."

"That's funny," said Wencia with a laugh.

"It is," agreed Hermione with a grin.

Harry gave the two of them a mock annoyed look and huffed, "Hmphf! Talking about me as though I'm not here! Well, we'll see if I get breakfast for you two any time soon."

"Aw, but, Harry," whined Wencia, giving him a pair of puppy eyes that could have won her an award – were there such a thing, that is.

But puppy eyes had never worked on Harry.

The han-akurei shuddered and said, "Dear Merlin, Wen, don't do that again."

The eleven-year-old blinked at that, frowning curiously at him.

"What?"

Harry shuddered again as he sat down at the table and grabbed an éclair from the plate before he replied.

"I hate dogs. And puppy eyes – even from a human – just don't work on me."

"Why do you hate dogs?" asked Hermione as she took another chair, leaving Wencia to take the last.

Harry frowned at that, knowing he couldn't tell her that he hated the beasts because he was half cat demon. They surely would not go off very well.

Instead, he just shrugged and mumbled, "Just do. Always have."

Hermione frowned at him then picked up two biscuits, offering one to Wencia. The first-year took it with a sweet smile and the older girl was immediately attached to the child.

Harry chuckled softly, seeing that he was not the only one drawn in by the violet-eyed child.

Hermione gave him a glare for his chuckle but there was no malice behind it. She then turned back to Wen and began to ask the girl a number of questions involving the Muggle world.

The han-akurei was content to watch them and listen but the two girls soon dragged him in, begging him to tell them about Japan and his life there. Unable to resist their pleas (or Wen's, at least) Harry gave in and the three of them spent all of breakfast sitting in his rooms discussing everything from languages to board games.

Translations

Chikusho: Damn

Baka: Idiot

Vescor excessum: To eat death (Latin)