Happy Accidents & One Aggrieved Bookworm
A Harry Potter Fanfiction By Andrew Joshua Talon
Disclaimer: This is a fanbased parody work of prose. Please support the official release.
Note: This is an alternate timeline where Hogwarts Students start their first year at 13, rather than 11. Thus making this Harry 16-17 years old, and thus closer to legal. Just for my own conscience's sake.
Further Note: The part of Septima Vector is meant to be played by Lucy Pinder.
The rest of the term was a blur for Harry. While it looked like a lot of people believed him and Dumbledore, the Ministry was clamping down hard on the entire story. He visited Septima in the Hospital Wing several times, just updating her on the news and being with her.
Hermione was being very secretive all of a sudden, and talking with a strange Ravenclaw girl. Harry didn't know who she was, but Ron apparently did. As did Septima.
"Luna Lovegood?" Septima asked with a smile. "Oh yes! She's in my Third Year class, her father runs the magazine the Quibbler. She's quite gifted, actually."
"Really?" Harry asked, blinking. His thoughts focused on the blonde girl who wore brightly colored glasses and radish earrings.
"She seems a bit... Odd."
"Oh, she is," Septima confirmed with a nod, "but she's quite brilliant. Her grasp of mathematics is truly impressive." She gave him a wry smile.
"I wouldn't mind seeing you in my class some time, you know." She nudged him with her elbow. Harry coughed, and flushed.
"Er, well... It might be nice," he said, "but can I switch my classes?"
"Absolutely," Septima said with a grin, "if you can do the work. And given you were raised in the Muggle World, you might be pretty good at it."
"How so?" Harry asked, confused.
Septima conjured a piece of paper, and a pen. She wrote down a basic math formula, and held it out to him.
"Can you solve for x?" She asked.
Harry frowned, digging deep into his memories of primary school maths. He'd done very well at the start, but Dudley's complaints had ended that. Still, he'd tried to do the schoolwork in the class itself decently. A little act of rebellion against his horrible relatives.
"Well... I don't know what x is," Harry murmured, "but it has to equal each other, right? So I do this... And... Then..." He scribbled down his answer, and held it up to her. "How's this?"
Septima smiled and nodded.
"That's right," she said warmly, and Harry felt a bit of a blush on his face, "a little sloppy, but you got it. If you can handle basic algebra, you can handle my class... Though I think you could use some tutoring over the summer."
Harry nodded.
"I would like that," he admitted, "mainly to see you again."
He sighed heavily.
"But how? My house is warded to protect me. How can you-?"
"It's warded against Death Eaters, Harry," Septima said with a grin, "but is it warded against Muggle methods?"
Harry blinked rapidly. He grinned right back.
The end of term came, and despite everything, Harry had done well on his tests. Though technically, due to being a Triwizard Champion, he got "Perfects" on all his exams anyway. Still, he didn't want to fall behind. And with Hermione and Septima badgering him about his grades, he had put forth his best effort.
The ride back on the Hogwarts Express had been relatively uneventful, save for the revelation that Hermione had found out Rita Skeeter was an illegal bug Animagus, and was blackmailing her. To what end, Harry wasn't sure, but he suspected Hermione was done with leaving the war in Dumbledore's hands. He'd written out his recollections of Voldemort's resurrection, and Hermione had taken it along with Cedric's written testimony. Cedric himself had been keeping quiet-Most likely due to his father's position in the ministry-But he'd promised to Harry that he would back him up, come what may.
Other than those things, he'd been picked up by the Dursleys, taken home, and gone up to his room. He'd laid down on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling.
He wasn't sure how to handle everything that had happened. It all felt so unreal. Voldemort had returned, and Harry had narrowly escaped with his life and Cedric's. He and a teacher were... Close. Really close. And she'd promised to visit him.
But with that madman alive and fully powered again... Harry couldn't help brooding over the future.
"Boy!" Vernon yelled. "Dinner! Get down here if you want to eat!"
Harry sighed, and swung himself up to his feet.
At least he knew what lay in the immediate future, he supposed...
A week followed, where he went about his usual chores and tolerated the Dursleys as best he could. Honestly, their shit wasn't getting to him much anymore. He could see their reactions a little more clearly now, how fearful they were of his potential.
Dudley actually almost turned out pleasant-He wanted a work out partner, and Harry was it. The basement was now a gym, as Dudley was becoming an amateur boxer. Vernon wasn't able to handle being a spotter, but Harry could. And that was enough for Dudley.
"You always seemed like such a mope," Dudley commented, "but now you're... Kind of like a bloke, ya know?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, annoyed, as he lifted some weights. Dudley smirked, in between his breaths as he stood at a heavy bag.
"Like you're a... A guy, now," Dudley said at last. Harry snorted, and went back to lifting his weights.
"Maybe a little," he admitted. "I had a girlfriend."
"Had? Was she hot?" Dudley asked. Harry nodded.
"Prettiest girl in our year," Harry admitted. Dudley nodded and grinned.
"Good on ya," he complimented. He pulled out a picture of a pretty blonde girl, in a blue tank top. "This is Charlotte. She comes to the gym to cheer me on. She loves weights too, can you believe it?"
"Er, yeah, she's nice," Harry said.
"So, what about your bird?"
Harry blinked, and shrugged.
'We broke up," he said. "Said she didn't want to play second fiddle."
"So, what, you threw her over for a bloke?" Dudley asked. Harry scowled at his cousin.
"No! Just... Another girl. Harder to work with her though," he said.
"Why? She a teacher or something?" Dudley asked.
Harry was silent. Dudley's eyes widened in disbelief.
"No way," he muttered. "Got a picture?"
"Errrr..." Harry was divided, but... He rummaged in his pocket, and pulled out the Sweet Dreams Cover. He thumbed through it, and found the least naked picture of Septima he could. He held it up. Dudley's eyes bugged out, and then he scoffed.
"Oh come on! You're having me on!" Dudley laughed.
"No, really, this is her!" Harry insisted.
"Sure, sure," Dudley snorted.
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, tucking the book back into his bag.
"Whatever," he huffed, "if you don't believe me or anything-"
"I'm just saying, mate, you need to be a LOT more convincing about a woman like that being sweet on you," Dudley stated.
Harry opened his mouth to retort, when he heard a familiar bellow from above:
"BOY! GET UP HERE!"
Harry rolled his eyes, put down the weights, and headed up the stairs. Vernon was standing in the entrance hallway, his face purpled, as he held up a large cardboard package.
"Wha-What is the meaning of this?!" He demanded. "This something sent by your freakish friends!? Some kind of-of freak-!"
"It's just a package, Uncle Vernon," Harry said calmly, taking it into his hands, "nothing magical about it."
He smiled at the name on the address. It was her.
"It had better not be!" Vernon growled, as Harry headed up the stairs quickly. "Because if I find out that there's any-!"
Harry slammed the door shut behind him, and eagerly set the package down. He opened it up, and looked at the contents. It was some kind of square of blue fabric, like a collapsed tent. There was a note, and Harry picked it up to read it.
"'Just tap it with your wand,'" he read aloud. He shrugged, pulled his wand from his pocket, and tapped it. In an instant, the tent popped up and erected itself, now resembling a small changing station at a beach. Harry blinked, and, with wand drawn, slowly parted one of the flaps and looked inside.
His jaw dropped, and then he grinned.
"Blimey," he muttered. It looked like a nice, if small, hotel room. A queen sized bed, a bathroom, and a small kitchenette with warm brown carpeting and soft tan walls. It was a homey sort of place, and Harry stepped into it in wonder.
The door to what appeared to be a closet jostled, and Harry kept his wand up. The door finally opened, and Septima herself stumbled through, breathing hard. She was wearing a simple, modest blue sundress, but on her it took Harry's breath away. He stared at her in amazement.
"Ah! Damn! I hate that thing!" She cursed. She looked up at Harry, and beamed. "Harry!"
"Professor!" Harry cried, rushing up to her. She then held up her hand, and Harry paused. "Ah, what-?"
"You need to ask me something only I would know, Harry," Septima chided him, "remember? Constant vigilance?"
"Oh, right," Harry muttered. "Ah, when did we first kiss?"
Septima blushed.
"January 7th, my quarters, when we just figured out the clue to the golden egg and please," Septima shook her head, "don't ask questions that might implicate me in something unsavory?"
"You're already in my house, with an apartment, wearing that dress," Harry replied with a smirk. Septima's blush deepened, and she cleared her throat.
"Ah, well, y-yes," she mumbled, "I suppose."
"You weren't in here the whole time, were you?" Harry asked, worried. Septima shook her head, and brought Harry over to the closet door. She opened it, revealing a black void.
"Nope! This whole tent is my thesis for my Arithmancy Mastery," she said cheerfully, "creating a vanishing cabinet linked to another doorway, while within a compressed spacetime manifold! Er, well, a tent that's bigger on the inside."
"Wow," Harry breathed, genuinely impressed. "So this closet-?"
"Links to a closet in my house, actually," Septima said with a grin. "Don't worry, it's charmed to only allow me access back and forth. But geez, the math on this was exhausting." She rubbed her temples and shuddered. "Ugh! I still have nightmares over the Lagrangians I had to do for this one."
"It's amazing work," Harry said, enthused. "But uh, it's... I mean, this isn't too much trouble, is it?"
"Nope!" Septima said cheerfully, reaching up and caressing his face. "Not at all! I'm sitting on the patent for this, until a market opens up. But I can make another one if I need to, and this tent is pretty cheap. And, well..."
Septima sighed.
"Given what I know about your... Situation with your family, it wouldn't hurt for you to have a place of your own."
Harry's eyes widened, and he held up his hands.
"I-I can't accept-!"
"Too bad," Septima smirked, winking at him, "it's a gift. You don't get to take it back, or you'll make me cry. You don't want to make me cry, do you?"
"I-I suppose not," Harry murmured.
"But if you really feel bad about it," Septima said, walking over to the kitchenette, and opening the refrigerator, "why not cook me dinner?"
Harry looked over the stasis-preserved foods, thought about it, and then smiled. He rolled up his sleeves.
"I think I can do that," he confirmed with a grin. "Where are the pots and pans?"
Smut will be coming next time. Sorry it's taken so long.