Pre: A/N: While I'm 103.7% sure the real Harry would know what this sport (no spoilers?) is, it was much funnier writing the upcoming scene as if he didn't. Suck it up buttercups, I do what I want.
Harry stared at the tiny map in his hands. He turned it to the left, right, and upside down. "Why?" He asked.
"You're talking to yourself again." A snappish voice dropped on Harry's thoughts like a bomb. He'd forgotten he was in public. "You should really work on that." The beautiful figure floated onto her stool.
"Nah." He shrugged and met Hale's unamused ochre eyes. "I was just asking questions out of earshot."
"Have you considered the possibility of your own insanity?" She fluidly gathered and pinned her hair to the top of her head .
"Certainly." Harry shrugged. "But I'm not locked in a cage yet so I must be on to something?"
"Well, you are not a genius, that's for sure." Harry laughed and Hale rolled her eyes.
Class began shortly after. Harry scribbled notes along with the teacher as dutifully as possible. Before he knew it class was over. He shoved his notes into his bag and left quietly with the living, breathing reincarnation of Aphrodite. He felt a renewed appreciation for his own modest appearance. He wasn't sure what he'd do if the wizarding world had even more of a reason to gossip and stare.
Harry pulled the door open for Hale. She came to a stop and stared at him. "What?" Had he forgotten deodorant?
Hale nearly smiled. "You have actual manners." She stated and continued moving forward.
"Thanks?" He questioned cautiously. Harry wasn't sure if he should be afraid or flattered.
"It was a compliment." Hale answered his silent inquiry.
"I'll take it." Harry followed her to their seats. The bell rang and the struggle to stay focused and awake began. Harry was grateful for the rigorous training in staying awake during boring classes he'd received from Hermione.
Harry lethargically wandered out of class some time later. He gave Hale a halfhearted wave and plodded along to his next class.
If Harry had to name the absolute worst part of High School, he was pretty sure it'd be what the locals called "Gym." Not only was he terrible at sports played on the ground, the required attire was itchy, uncomfortable, and made it difficult to cover his more interesting scars.
Harry tugged at the edge of the long sleeve shirt he'd chosen to wear under his uniform. He feigned feeling a bit chilled when Coach Clapp had given him a funny look. Thankfully the man hadn't argued.
"Aww, yeeaah." A large shadow dwarfed Harry's on the waxy, wooden floor. "If it isn't Tiny!"
Harry turned and gave Emmett Cullen a bemused look. "Hullo, Bear-Man." He greeted cordially. Emmett flashed Harry a smile that fell far too close to angelic for comfort. "You know, I'm pretty sure that smile doesn't fit you." Harry blurted.
"Yeah?" Emmett grinned.
"Seems far too innocent." Harry dug his grave farther.
"Wouldn't say I disagree." Emmett smirked. "Thanks."
"Happy to be of service."
"Alright, listen up!" Coach yelled and addressed the class. "We're going to run some drills on your B-Ball skills. After a few days of running drills and blasting hoops, we'll move onto playing some real team on team games. Group up and get to work." Coach grabbed several balls and shoved them out to various students.
Emmett fluidly caught a ball flung haphazardly in their direction. Harry was confident this B-Ball sport wasn't supposed to look that graceful.
"Let's go, Tiny." Emmett beamed. Harry followed him warily to a different end of the gym. "Let's see what you've got." The ball sailed smoothly from Emmett's hands to Harry's.
"A ball." Harry stared at Emmett blankly.
"Yeah, course it's a ball. What of it?" Emmett tilted his head.
"You asked to see what I've got. Apparently I've got a ball." Harry held up the orange ball. "Dunno what for though."
"You've never played basketball?" Emmett lifted his eyebrows.
"Is that what the B was for?" Harry nodded. "I feel so enlightened. But, uh, what's that then?"
"Oh man, this aughtta be good." Emmett declared.
After a minute of chucking the obnoxiously bouncy ball at a ridiculously small net hanging from a glass board Emmett burst out laughing.
"Harry, you're terrible." Emmett chuckled. "The hoop is over there."
"Yeah, well, "Harr shrugged awkwardly. "I'm a Seeker, not a Chaser."
"What? The hell is the difference?" Emmett rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"One seeks and the other chases?" Harry vaguely stated. He wondered if maybe he shouldn't mention Quidditch.
"Reeeally?" Emmett exaggerated. "Shit son, I've learned a whole new meaning to life."
Harry sniggered and tossed the ball at the hoop again. He winced and waved apologetically at the three girls he'd almost hit. "Sorry..." He sighed
"Porter!" Coach barked. "The net is over there!" He yelled and jabbed a hand toward the basketball hoop.
Harry heard Emmett laugh to himself. "That's what I said!" He stage-whispered to Harry.
"I aimed at it!" Harry defended. "It just doesn't go in."
"Kid, get your act together." Coach shook his head. "I don't know what you Brits play over there, but you'll need to learn the bare basics to pass this class."
"Working on it." Harry smiled as convincingly as he could.
"Cullen," Coach sighed. "Fix this." He ordered and walked away.
"Got it, boss." Emmett chuckled and grabbed the ball. "You should probably learn how to actually hold the ball before you throw it at innocent bystanders."
"I said I was sorry." Harry grumbled.
Emmett spent the rest of the class period attempting to teach Harry how to hold the ball. "How the hell can you catch the ball from any angle, speed, or height, but you can't throw it?" Emmett guffawed at Harry's latest attempt to shoot.
"Seeker, remember?"
"What's finding shit got to do with catching?" Emmett challenged.
"That, my friend, is a question for another day." Harry smirked.
Coach blew the whistle before Emmett could reply. Harry exhaled loudly and dramatically in relief. "Almost held the ball properly for a moment there. Good job, grasshopper."
Harry shot Emmett a dirty look. "Almost." He agreed sarcastically.
He and Emmett went opposite directions in the locker room. Harry dressed as quickly as possible and fled the malodorous pit. He wrinkled his nose and stopped short as he nearly collided with a short, buxom girl on her way out of the girl's changing area. "Pardon." He wobbled to regain his balance.
"Harrold!" She squeaked excitedly. "You're just in time!" She bounced on her toes and wrapped her short arms around one of his. "Lettuce leaf!"
"I'm sorry?" He questioned.
"If you say it fast enough it sounds like 'let us leave'." Pete Chaney clapped him on the shoulder as Mandy rounded the boy up with them.
"If you say so." Harry shrugged.
"Yo, Harry." Emmett chuckled as he and Rosealie passed them in the hall. "Try not to trip on your own feet again, yeah? That was hilarious."
"Shove off." Harry blew his bangs out of his eyes. "I'm still 90% sure you tripped me."
"And nearly taking out the school populace with one ball was just an added bonus?" Emmett turned to walk backwards. "Kind of impressive for your second day. I can feel a nickname growing for you." He grinned deviously. "Bystander Beater?"
"Still a Seeker." Harry smirked smugly and Emmett narrowed his eyes.
"I'm gonna figure that out." Emmett vowed.
"Can we go now?" Hale stated disinterestedly. "You're slowing us down."
"Later." Emmett gave Harry a half salute before he turned and walked away.
"Did the Cullens just talk to you?" Mandy wondered in awe.
"Er, yeah?" Harry's brow furrowed. He let the bossy American tug him along to the cafeteria. He followed between Mandy and Chaney to collect his lunch.
"And?" Mandy pressed after they'd paid and headed to find a seat. "You were saying about your mysterious "in" with the Cullens?"
"I have a few classes with them." Harry offered in explanation. He set his unappetizing lunch on the table and draped his bag over the edge of his chair.
"Yeah, so do we, but that still doesn't mean they talk to us." Chaney chimed in. He claimed the seat next to Harry's. Harry ignored the stares of the table's other inhabitants. Harry vaguely recalled their names were Lena Mallory and Ashley Stevens. He poked at his lunch with his fork. He was pretty sure it'd come to life if he poked it long enough.
"I sort of have to talk to Hale if that counts for anything." Harry scratched his chin. Mandy and Chaney gave him near identical and impatient expressions. "What?"
"Because-?" They spoke in sync.
"We're lab partners." He explained. "Pretty hard to do work in silence."
"Lab partners with Jasper Hale?" Lena swooned and shoved her tray away with a noisy clatter. She leaned against Ashley and sighed dreamily.
"So jealous." Ashley fanned herself with her hand. "He's utterly gorgeous."
"Er, no?" Harry corrected. He felt the distinct impression he was missing something. "Rosalie."
"You have to work with Rosalie Hale?" Ashley asked horrified. "But she's such a bitch!"
Harry frowned. "She isn't that bad." He defended. "Sometimes she's even nice." Harry added as an afterthought, though he wasn't sure he was being entirely honest. Hale had occasionally done something nice, but he didn't think she was trying to be nice.
"How do you live through it? Aren't you worried about Emmett Cullen?" Lena tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Like, what happens if you try to look at her?"
"What?" Harry looked at her dubiously. "Am I supposed to do labs with my eyes closed?"
"I don't think he has anything to worry about with Emmett." Mandy interrupted. "He told him to shove off on our way here."
"Isn't that more of a reason for him to be afraid?" Lena gasped. She looked mortified.
"No." Chaney snickered. "It was Harry who said it to Emmett." Lena's jaw dropped.
"He was being an arse." Harry defended self-consciously.
"An arse?" Ashley gave Harry a skeptical look.
"Exactly." Harry agreed.
"The hell is an 'arse'?" Chaney laughed.
Harry shrugged, "a bum?"
"He was being a homeless man?" Mandy gave him a funny look.
"What?"
"That's what a bum is. Homeless person, hobo, the residency impaired," Ashley prattled off.
"The residency impaired? Really?" Chaney laughed.
"Sounded good, right?" Ashley waggled her eyebrows.
"Not really." Harry disagreed. "But no, a bum is not a homeless person. It's the thing attached to your legs that you sit on."
"So a butt." Lena blinked slowly. "Ohhh, then you meant ass!" She declared loudly.
"Miss Mallory! Language." A teacher walking by cried out.
"Sorry, Mrs. P. Language barrier." She explained smoothly. "I was just trying to learn what an arse is."
"That does not mean you should continue to have a foul mouth." The teacher said with a stern frown.
"Oh! I didn't mean to!" Lena's eyes rounded innocently. "I'll be careful, honest." The teacher scowled and walked away.
"Good save." Ashley gave her a high five.
"What was the point of this conversation again?" Chaney finished off the rest of his soda.
"Harry called Emmett Cullen an arse." Mandy supplied.
"Speaking of which, why would you risk your life like that?" Lena demanded.
"I wasn't risking my life." Harry rolled his eyes. "Em really was being an arse."
"So you're on nickname basis?!" Mandy bounced excitedly in her seat.
"No? Just lazy." Harry told her honestly. "Am I done with the interrogation?"
"Not really." Lena shrugged.
"Not at all." Ashley dropped her head onto her hands. "You have to dish on what it's like to work with Rosalie."
"The same as it would be with anyone else? Collect supplies, analyze, turn in assignments."
"No, no, no." Chaney tutted. "You're missing the point here."
"Or he's depressed he doesn't get to work with Mr. I'm-ridiculously-gorgeous-and-single-and-somehow-not-interested-in-other-humans." Lena sighed.
"What? Lost it, have ya?" Harry half smiled.
"Oh my god, maybe we should give the title of Mr. Ridiculously-Gorgeous-and-single to Harry here." Ashley giggled. "You should smile more often."
"So much." Lena winked at him.
"Vultures." Chaney rolled his eyes. "Keep one eye open at all times." He told Harry seriously.
"Rude." Ashley sniffed.
"Good advice." Mandy snickered.
"Twice as rude." Lena agreed.
"So does this mean Mr. Ridiculously-Gorgeous and Mr. Ridiculously-Gorgeous don't get to interact?" Lena pondered.
"Oh my god!" Ashley shot up and sat perfectly straight in her seat. "I'm shipping that."
"Holy shit!" Lena squealed. "I'll captain that ship."
"I'm pretty sure I'll keep both eyes open." Harry said warily. "I don't know what shipping means, but it sounds incredibly violent."
Mandy snickered. "Don't ask."
"Really though, don't ask." Chaney gave Lena and Ashley disapproving looks.
"But do you?" Ashley and Lena badgered him. "Spend time with your other half?"
"Half? Pretty sure I'm still whole." Harry pat himself down.
"Nooo, with Jasper! Do you ever get to see him? Because we'd be happy to arrange that." Lena stated and Ashley beamed and nodded.
"I'm not sure I want to answer that. I still remember the interrogation from having Hale as a lab partner."
"But then how will we get to know more about our new dream team?" The girls pouted petulantly.
"He already told us enough about one of 'em." Chaney rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest."
"But he told us about the wrong Hale." Lena sniffed.
"Wrong? She really isn't that b-"
"Well, she's definitely not the easier of the twins to get along with, that's for sure." Mandy overrode Harry's sentence. "You're just blind to the truth." She told him.
"Twins?" Harry asked bewildered.
"Yeah, Rosalie and Jasper are twins." Chaney explained. Harry was mildly surprised. He supposed they looked similar, but they weren't like any of the twins he'd ever known. They were so… distant.
"You mean you didn't know?" Lena asked. She and Ashley glanced at one another.
Harry shook his head. "They're just not like any of the twins I've ever known, that's all." He explained lamely.
"Do you know anything about the Cullens and Hales?" Mandy sighed in exasperation.
"Er, I know they're students at Forks High?" Harry supplied unhelpfully.
"Oh, Harrold." Mandy sighed as the bell rang. "We'll cover this more later." She promised him and Harry sighed.
Harry shouldered his bag. "All right then-" He stated and walked away to chuck his lunch.
"Was he going to finish that statement?" Lena asked. Harry couldn't figure out what she'd meant.
Time passed as slowly for the next two classes as the day before. Harry was almost grateful for the reprieve art class should be.
"Harry, Harry!" Emmett sang while Harry dropped his bag on his and Jasper's table. "It's been too long."
Harry rolled his eyes and half smiled. He plopped into his seat. He half turned and leaned his chair back. "You gonna make it?"
"Only now that you're here, baby." Emmett winked, Harry snickered.
"For the love of-" Hale exhaled loudly. "Do not encourage him." She glared at Harry.
"I was aiming for mockery, I swear." He held up his hands innocently.
"Unfortunately for you, and the rest of us really, mockery rarely works with Emmett." Jasper soundlessly appeared behind Harry. "His skull is too thick." Harry laughed and moved his chair forward to allow Jasper through.
"And here I thought we were family." Emmett sighed.
"Which is exactly why I cannot lie to you." Jasper replied sweetly.
The bell rang shortly after and the batty art teacher began to prattle about various periods of history and art. Harry tuned her out in favor of inspecting the doodles strewn along the table's surface.
"You may begin." The teacher called out. Harry was glad she'd finished rambling. "Remember you'll only have 15 minutes!"
"Think we could stack the hat so it'll always pick Harry?" Emmett asked Jasper.
"Don't bother." Harry sighed. "I guarantee she'll pull my name as often as possible."
"Do you?" Jasper appeared amused.
"Unfortunately. I have the worst luck." Harry assured him.
"You wanna bet how many pulls in a row?" Emmett laughed.
"You're on." Jasper replied.
"4." Emmett declared.
"7." Jasper smirked.
"Every time until she realizes it's a waste of time." Rosalie stated.
"Damn, Rose. Tell us how you really feel?" Emmett grinned.
"Is this the part where you tell us you're secretly clairvoyant?" Harry deadpanned.
"No." Rosalie sounded distracted. "It's just my preferred outcome. Now quit talking and paint."
Harry smiled. He made a vague attempt of painting an abstract portrait of the Hogwarts Express. By the time Harry swiped the final streak of crimson along the edges of the train the allotted time was over.
Harry was neither surprised nor thrilled when his name was pulled. He grabbed his painting and made his way to stand at the front of the class. He patiently waited his turn while not really listening to the other Unfortunates' explanations.
"And how does your piece relate to your own past? To your future?" Ms. Batty asked him.
"Trains symbolize coming and going?" He fumbled. Harry thought it sounded better when Dumbledore said it.
"That's wonderful! Absolutely terrific!" The teacher appeared to tear up. From the corner of his eye Harry watched Emmett hand something to a smugly smiling Jasper. "You may have a seat, Mr. Porter. Such a lovely piece once again!"
Harry dropped his painting on the drying rack and walked back to his seat. "What were the two of you up to?" Harry gave Jasper a sideways glance.
Jasper's lips twitched and he said, "Simple bet."
"Of?"
"How long it would take her to cry." Emmett explained.
"And you won?" Harry asked Jasper.
"Naturally." Jasper's smile grew.
"You technically bet on Harry." Emmett pointed out.
"How's that?" Harry asked.
"She finds your awkwardness endearing." Jasper explained.
Harry eyed him doubtfully. "Uh huh."
"You look like someone's kicked your puppy when you go up there." Harry turned and gave Hale his best impersonation of her most disinterested expression. For a moment he thought she might have smiled.
"I'm not sure if I'm offended or not." Harry replied thoughtfully.
Jasper laughed softly. "Not." He assured Harry.
"Alright, everyone, don't forget to bring in painting clothes this week! We're going to start destructive art on Monday!"
Harry frowned. "Why does that sound dangerous?"
"To the rest of us it sounds fun. With you involved, it probably is dangerous." Jasper grinned.
"Again with the offended or not."
"Probably not." Jasper stated. "Emmett explained how well you play basketball. Leaves the concern for everyone else's safety."
Harry sighed. "I really did aim." He grumbled. Jasper and Emmett laughed.
"Exactly why we're concerned for our fellow student body." Jasper stated, the perfect image of a Southern Gentleman.
"Bollocks." Harry challenged.
"He's just so Brittish. Seriously, can we keep him?" Emmett asked.
"Still not a pet." Harry made a childish face at Emmett.
The rest of the week seemed to continue in a redundant, simple pattern. Harry could get used to it. He passed the same kids going the same directions to the same classes. The simplicity of it was becoming the highlight of his stay in America.
Harry fought a yawn as he entered the science lab.
"Do you think he's some famous British kid?" He heard a petite, Asian girl ask under her breath.
"Maybe? Or the kid of a famous couple? It'd make sense. The Cullens never took interest in any of us. There's gotta be something special about him." A round-faced girl replied. Harry thought her name might have been Erin. Maybe?
"You mean other than his dead sexy accent?" The Asian asked.
"Well, yeah! How he speaks only goes so far, ya know?" Her friend replied.
"Then what is it that makes him so special, huh?"
Harry'd begun to wonder after the same thing. "It's kind of a good point." He mused to himself.
"No, it isn't." Hale replied. Harry hadn't realized she had been listening.
"Well, do you talk to others outside of your family?" He asked.
"No. Why should I?" She asked him drily.
Harry smirked, "That just validates what they said." He pointed out.
"No, they claimed it was because there's something special about you. It's more that you're less annoying than the others." Hale replied bluntly.
"Well, you're not as bad as they say yourself." Harry shrugged innocently. "Once you get past the terrifying aura and murderous glaring. Though I had thought you were going to eat me when I said hello for the first time."
"I did think about it." She told him, a look of perfect sincerity on her flawless face. "But I remembered something Alice told me." She told him, a curious expression on her face.
"Alice?" Harry wrinkled his brow.
"My foster sister." Hale turned to the front of the room. "It isn't really any of your business." She told him simply and class began. She ignored him for the rest of the
lesson.
"'Find a hobby, Harry' he said. 'It'll be fun,' he said." Harry shoved his fringe away from his eyes. "' Why not try gardening?' he said." Harry kicked some loose dirt at the bright yellow and blue vines that were supposed to be artfully arranged on the trellis. The vines had wriggled as far away from him, and his damn trellises, as possible.
"Now what?" He snapped at the moody plant. "Would you like me to serve you tea and crumpets before you'll stay put?"
"Stay put, stay put!"
Harry jumped and released a manly yelp. "Wha'?" He looked around for the source of the singing.
"Whaaaa', whaaaa'!" Small voices sang near his feet. Harry did a double take as a pair of small leaves opened a pair of tiny mouths and sang his words back to him.
"Stay put, stay put! Whaaaa, whaaaa', whaaaa'! Stay put!"
"The hell is this?" He gaped while the pair of leaves hummed and swayed in the shadow of the trellis. Harry knelt down and poked the larger of the two leaves experimentally with his wand. He sighed as the leaf giggled and shrank back from his wand.
Harry got back onto his feet slowly and dropped his gloves onto the dirt next to his difficult plant. He'd have to take another look through Taming and Growing Your Own Garden Oasis. He was starting to regret choosing to grow magical plants over your everyday variety of roses or peonies. He'd always liked peonies. Nice, innocent, round, pink.
"But why grow peonies, Harry?" He asked himself in what he'd have called an excellent impersonation of Mr. E. "Imagine growing an Ember Bush, Harry! It's a distant relative to the Fire Seed Bush!" He continued and snatched up his Herbology guide book. "Catching oneself on fire is far more exciting than a few pricks from thorns!"
Harry flipped through the chapters on different varieties of leafy plants, plants that grow in moist environments, and noisy plants before giving up on the strange leaves. He flipped back to the section on vines he'd started to read earlier. A paragraph and a half in, Harry felt a strong urge to smack himself in the forehead.
The Sundar Vines are a most particular plant. The vines are said to be temperamental and will refuse to settle on any surface that is less than optimal. If the vine detects any malformities the plant will not prosper.
If you aren't careful the Gaayan weed will infest the roots of your Sundar vine. Gaayan weeds are characterized by a clump of small, roundish leaves of a deep blue-green coloring. The most distinctive feature, however, is the weed's habit of singing loudly and badly off key. Due to the Sundar vine's sensitivity of environment the weed will hinder the vine's willingness to flourish.
"Explains that then, doesn't it?" Harry gave the singing leaves a wary side-eye. "You've got to go." He plopped down on the ground, shoved his hands back into his gloves, and ripped the singing weeds from the base of the woodwork.
"Got to go, got to gooooo!" The weeds wailed as their roots pulled free.
Harry wore a look of disgust from the wriggling, writhing, pale blue roots of the weed. He could see where some of the roots had broken free from the pair in his hand. The damn duet would have offspring. He chucked the weeds into a rubbish bin and returned his attention to his in-house Diva.
"And you!" Harry glared at the obstinate vines. "They're not that annoying. You're just being melodramatic."
Harry trudged back into his house an hour later. He was 5lbs of dirt heavier and the proud owner of two small gashes on his arm. "Bleeding vines!" He stomped his merry way into the bathroom and towards a welcome, and very hot, shower.
Harry took his time ridding himself of an afternoon's hard work of gardening. It's like trying to grow and nurture Malfoy. He snorted at the thought. The image of the prat's head dancing atop the stubborn vines was enough to ruin the soothing atmosphere of his shower.
He quickly dried himself off and dressed in a simple pair of sweat pants and an old shirt. He made his way to the kitchen to start dinner. Arguing and wrestling with the thin, stringy, brightly colored set of vines was significantly more difficult than he had expected.
He ran his fingers through his hopelessly messy locks and whistled to himself. He wandered around the kitchen and gathered several different ingredients. He tossed a bit of chicken into a pan, sliced a few veggies, and tossed everything in with the chicken with a bit of a simple sauce. He let his mind wander while his food cooked.
A gentle tapping broke through his concentration. He flipped off the stove and crossed over to the kitchen window. He frowned thoughtfully as Mr. E.'s carrier pigeon rested gracefully on the back of his favorite chair. The bird didn't appear to be carrying the usual collection of Defense Assignments.
During Harry's time with Mr. E. The man had hired Harry to look over and grade Defense Against the Dark Arts essays and exams in exchange for a modest living. It had taken Mr. E. several months of steady encouragement and wheedling before Harry had accepted the job. He still doubted Mr. E.'s claim that Harry himself was a world-renowned expert. He didn't think winning the duel against Voldemort on a technicality warranted the recognition, but he did feel comfortable with his knowledge of 5th and 6th year work. He had to teach himself new information from time to time when the students learned something he was unfamiliar with, but Harry really enjoyed the work. Mr. E. had recently endeavored to convince Harry to put together a few lesson plans of his own. Harry tried to tell him it wasn't a good idea, but he knew with time Mr. E. would manage to convince him to do it.
Despite the weekly occurrences of the bird's deliveries, Harry still found it strange Americans didn't use owls. "What do you have, girl?" He gently removed the rolled-up missive. "There're new seeds up there." He gestured vaguely to the top of his fridge.
He leaned against a counter and unrolled the letter. A folded news article fluttered to the floor. Harry spared it half a glance and read the accompanying letter,
I thought it would be easier if it came from a friend
-Mr. E.
Harry set the note on the surface behind him. He scooped up the clipping and unfolded the article with trepidation. His heart plummeted as an old, unflattering image of Ginny Weasley glared back at him.
Ginevra Weasley: Found and Convicted of Conspiring Against the Ministry!
The body of Ginevra Weasley, once a member of Dumbledore's Army and a highly dangerous and wanted criminal, was found and identified last night. The young witch that had gone missing this past year is no longer out on the streets. No longer threatening our children, or our way of life.
The last known location of Weasley had been reported to the ministry last July by a concerned citizen. Weasley, 17 at the time, was accused of harboring knowledge of Undesirable No. 1; Harry Potter. The ministry promptly sent a highly trained response team in hopes of apprehending this hazardous individual. Upon arrival a deadly firefight ensued between the young witch and members of our very own Auror department.
"Weasley viciously struck down three of us and wounded 2 more before she managed to get away." Auror Hesphaestus Gore shared with this reporter. "It was a ghastly sight. You'd never expect such a young girl to know such nasty, dark spells. Never expect her to use them."
It's not a wonder where she learned them. During her time at school Miss Weasley was a member of Harry Potter's illegal organization: Dumbledore's Army. During the gathering of the members Potter was often seen teaching students, and in some cases forcing them to learn, vile magic. Weasley learned dark curses along her brother Ronald, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Katie Bell, and Hannah Abbott. All of whom are some of the wizarding world's most notorious deranged criminals.
While the Ministry has obtained the safety of its citizens from the threat that was Ginevra Weasley, the others are still at large. The ministry cautions that should any of its citizens happen upon these witches or wizards they should contact the Auror Department as soon as it is safe to do so. Further instructions on how to handle sightings of dangerous individuals or creatures can be found on Pg 11.
Harry didn't feel very hungry anymore. He shakily set the article on the counter and fled the room. He tugged on a jacket, a pair of sturdy boots, and grabbed his wand. Within minutes Harry dashed from his home and into the forest surrounding his property. He ran past the wards and deep into the wooded land.
He wandered for a while, his mind a whirlwind. He fluctuated between anger and hatred to horror and despair. He found a large tree with great, gnarled roots and a pocket of dead space beneath them large enough for him to climb into, though he had to sit a bit hunched over. He cast a few muggle repelling charms and a barrier spell before he broke.
He shook with anger and tears when he thought about what had really happened. He knew Ginny hadn't fought Aurors or escaped. She'd been murdered the year previously by a pack of Death Eaters. How could the Prophet run an article, a year after they'd paraded her corpse through the streets of London, as if she'd just died. Nothing had been printed about her the weeks following her actual death. Harry couldn't understand why they'd chosen to run a smear campaign. He couldn't understand why it had to be about her; the heaviest, hardest of all the deaths. He hated everything about it.
He hated that he was hiding away in America while Death Eaters still roamed the wizarding world freely. He hated he was safe while she was dead. But most of all, he hated himself for not being fast enough, strong enough, good enough to save her; to save anyone. Hated that he knew he was going to choose to stay in Forks, to stay safely hidden away, while his friends were living with fear, bigotry, violence, and an ever growing threat to eradication.
AN:
Someone asked how Harry hasn't noticed what the Cullens/Hales are. I'm here to alleviate your concerns, Mr. Guest, with a solid answer: It'll make sense one day, I promise.
I want to genuinely thank all of you that have reviewed, followed, or favorited HOTR. I'm sorry I'm not very consistent with updating.
I was going to write this sooner. Really, I was. But then I kept getting distracted by all the shit I've written for all the later chapters. That shit is hilarious.
A VERY IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: The carrier pigeons for the American mail delivery wasn't my idea. I'm pretty sure I read it in a Harry Potter / Avengers crossover once. But I can't remember which one or even if it's not secretly in another crossover universe with a Harry-goes-to-'Merica-Fuck-Yeah(Sorry, Cap. Should really watch my language) variety of story. In any case, I loved the idea and so I borrowed it. Now this may seem obvious but I'll say it anyway, I def didn't ask to borrow the pigeons because I can't remember where the idea came from. If anyone knows what I'm talking about, feel free to let me know who/where/what/how many tacos, etc. so I can credit the appropriate party(s?).
And that disclaimer leads me to THIS (is a) SIDE NOTE THAT HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS STORY, I'm still pretty crushed Fox maintains the rights to X-Men for a while yet. I know it's been a bit since Disney amassed even more of the MU but I'm clearly not over this yet. I want some damn Spidey-Pool. Or at least a brief moment of Wade pranking the Avengers. It'd be worth every last minute of it.
