Disclaimer: Do you think I might be JKR in disguise? Wow, you're deluded.
A/N: I got rather a mixed response from the last chapter; not that it wasn't unexpected. This chapter should be a bit more like a normal chapter. And like I mentioned, Ron starts the major plot rolling.
Chapter Eight: A Pull of Memory
To anyone else, the level of anticipation Harry felt at visiting Britain's only all-wizard town would have been comparable to the anticipation felt on Christmas eve, or just before a birthday. However, as the Dursleys never truly included Harry in their Christmas festivities, and did their level best to ignore his birthday, it was safe to say that he was feeling the highest level of anticipation he had ever felt before. He was unable to get to sleep until very late, it was nearing four in the morning, and he awoke at six. He stared at his alarm clock in blurry disbelief. There was no way I've only been sleeping for two hours!
Harry knew it was pointless to try to go back to sleep, even for a little bit, so he got up and got showered, shaved, dressed, et cetera. He wasn't sure what sort of clothes to wear, so he decided to combine muggle and wizarding wear. He pulled on a pair of jeans that were almost white, a light green short-sleeved button-down shirt, a pair of dragonhide boots, and a cream-colored tie. He figured he'd wear the dark green robe over the ensemble. Looking at himself in the mirror, he realized it was probably a bit too formal to wear to meet with Hermione. I like her as a friend, but there's no reason to give her the impression that this is a date when we both know it isn't… Grr… What else have I?
Harry decided on keeping the jeans and boots; they were rather comfortable. Instead of the button-down and tie, though, he located a t-shirt that Tonks had given him. It had a moving picture of a dragon on it and the back had all the dates for the 1996 Weird Sisters tour. He wasn't sure if he should wear a robe or not, and figured he'd ask Remus before they left. He glanced at the clock and found that he'd managed to waste an hour and a half. The smell of corned beef hash drew him to the kitchen like a magnet.
After breakfast and some lessons in wizarding culture from Remus, Harry and the werewolf left for the Leaky Cauldron at eleven. They flooed to the Three Broomsticks, and as it was still a tad early for lunch – not to mention meeting up with Hermione and Ron – Remus took Harry on a quick tour of the town, including the real reason the Shrieking Shack existed. At a quarter to one, Remus led the way back to the tavern. They had just located an out-of-the-way table and ordered butterbeers when Hermione, followed by a tall, gangly redhead, entered the pub. Harry stood and waived his friend and her companion over to their table.
"Hermione!" Harry greeted her and turned to the redhead. "And you must be Ron," he offered his hand.
"That's right. Good to finally meet you," Ron shook the brunette's hand. He's a bit shorter than I thought he would be…
"Have a seat. Do either of you two want anything to eat? Drink?" Harry offered.
Ron shrugged, looking to Hermione to lead the way. Though he could always eat something, he wasn't about to order something if no one else was. Hermione nodded, "The butterbeer here is quite good, but I already ate up at the castle before we left."
Remus flagged Rosmerta and ordered two more butterbeers for Hermione and Ron. "Do either of you two mind if we get some lunch, then? We've not eaten yet." A stray wisp of scent tickled the back of Remus' nose. He couldn't quite place it, though it felt as though the smell should be very familiar.
Hermione shook her head, "No, go ahead. Ron?"
Ron grinned and added an order of pie to Harry and Remus' lunch order. Ron felt a bit odd having lunch with a former professor, but quickly got over it when he realized that though Remus had been a professor, there was a good couple of years distancing him from that time, and Remus was as cool outside the classroom as he was in it. "So…" Ron glanced from Harry to Remus and back. "What have you been doing since you left Hogwarts, Professor? Sorry. Remus."
Remus smiled, "A bit of this, a bit of that. I've done some translation work for the French Ministry, ran some errands for Albus, and, of course, I'm tutoring Harry in magic. If he keeps on at the pace he's been going at, he should be ready to sit the OWLs by Yule; either that or work himself to death."
Hermione grinned, "I can imagine. I know you're still going to muggle school, and I couldn't imagine trying to do that, learn magic, and hold down a job at the same time. Third year was enough for me."
Harry quirked an eyebrow at his friend, "Oh? What happened third year?"
Ron laughed, "This psychotic bookworm couldn't decide which classes to take, and ended up signing up for all of them. I thought she was going to have a mental breakdown before the year ended. I still don't know how she managed to be in all her classes, though. Some of them were held at the same times…"
Hermione smiled a little secret grin that told Harry there was definitely something she hadn't shared with the redhead. He made a mental note to ask her about it at a later date. Harry shrugged, "Must have been magic."
Ron chuckled, "Even I know that much, Harry. I just can't figure out what magic."
Hermione snickered into her mug of butterbeer. Harry had the feeling that she'd been surreptitiously teasing Ron about it ever since their third year.
"Anyway, Hermione tells me you like to play chess." Harry cast about looking for a topic of conversation.
"Yeah, but hardly anyone will play with me anymore. It's not my fault that they don't know how to play properly and I keep winning. I like quidditch a bit more, though. It's outside, faster, and there are more things happening to keep track of. I still get to use the strategy skills from chess, but I also get a bit of exercise and the adrenaline rush is just… wow."
"Is it really all that?" Harry asked. "I mean, Remus has told me a bit about it, but I've never seen a game. Hell, I've never even been on a broom before. You said you use strategy? So are you the team captain? Or do you just come up with the plays? Or are there even plays?" Hermione sighed and looked resigned to a discussion on quidditch. Remus caught her eye and the two quietly sat discussing politics while Ron went into far more detail on his favorite pastime than anyone but Harry could or would have been able to tolerate; in fact, Ron took an hour to fully explain the game.
When the animated quidditch discussion wound down, Remus and Hermione rejoined the conversation. "Ron, does your father still work at the ministry?" Remus asked.
Ron nodded, "Yeah. Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. Why?"
"I was just musing over a few things that could use his input, that's all."
"Misuse of Muggle Artifacts?" Harry queried. "What's that mean?"
"Sometimes a wizard will think it's a great prank to give a charmed object to a muggle. Like a key that constantly shrinks, so the muggle has to keep buying replacements. Or they charm things like public toilets to regurgitate, or make shocking doorknobs. Stuff like that." Ron explained.
"It's called 'Muggle Baiting,' and is usually punished by a fine. It can and does go too far every now and then. Like a couple of years ago when that guy was caught obliviating little girls after he'd molested them. I think he was sentenced to ten years in Azkaban." Hermione looked thoughtful. "Yeah, it was ten years."
"Azkaban?"
"Prison. It's guarded by these creatures called dementors. A dementor feeds off the joy and happiness a person carries. It's rare for someone to live in Azkaban for more than a year or so without loosing their mind." Remus finished his butterbeer. Thinking of Azkaban made him think of Sirius. Don't, Remus. Just don't. That way lays madness. He caught another whiff of that maddeningly familiar scent and it brought to mind his old friends all the more. The wolf he kept firmly buried at the back of his mind was suddenly trying to escape again. The old anger at his so-called friend refreshed itself. He blinked and realized he was still in the Three Broomsticks, Harry and Hermione looking at him with concern, Ron distracted by something over Remus' shoulder. He shook his head, simultaneously dismissing the past and reassuring Hermione and Harry that he was fine. He glanced over his shoulder to see what Ron was glaring at. He sighed. It was Severus Snape.
Hermione had shifted her glance, as well, catching sight of Snape. Though she couldn't stand the Potions Master, she hid it well. She shifted in her seat and kicked Ron's shin, "Quit glaring at him, Ron, or he'll find ways to take points." Ron scowled and tore his gaze from the professor and busied himself with his tankard of butterbeer.
"Who is that?" Harry asked.
"That's Professor Snape." Hermione replied.
Harry smiled. "Oh. Thanks. I'll be right back." He stood from the table and approached the potions teacher.
"What's he doing?" Hermione asked Remus.
"I have no idea." Remus said, tracking Harry's progress across the room with his eyes.
A/N2: This should be the last of the shorter chapters, for the time being. Had I had a working keyboard at the time, chapters six through eight would have all been one chapter. Now that I have a working keyboard, once I have the time, I'll go through and re-edit a few of my chapters to make them more Brit-friendly, and when I do that, I'll condense these three into a single chapter.
In the next chapter we can expect to find Harry's first face-to-face conversation with Snape, a segment from Dumbledore's point of view, as well as some fun with Harry's muggle friends. We might also see some of what Andie and Tonks have been doing with regards to the Dursleys, but I haven't decided yet.
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