Title: Mr. X
Chapter: 3
Author: Arawna
Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.
A/N: I am well aware of the mistakes in Harry's texting…that's half of the point.
"Harry, are you completely sure about this?" Hermione asked dubiously, watching Harry over her mug of tea from her seat at the table in the dining room. Ron was sitting beside her, reading that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet and generally ignoring his girlfriend's 'this isn't a good idea' rant.
"Not completely," Harry said over his shoulder as he slid an omelet from the pan he was cooking with and onto an awaiting plate. After adding a few slices of bacon to the plate, he carried it over and set it before Hermione. "But enough."
"Harry, you don't even know this guy," she warned, slapping Ron's hand away from her breakfast as he attempted to nonchalantly steal a piece of bacon.
Harry merely shrugged as he walked across the room again to lay a plate in front of Ron, who promptly picked up a piece of bacon and took bite. "So. I'm getting to know him."
"Oh, really? How much do you know about him?" she asked, as though she was trying to disprove him.
"Er, well," Harry stammered. He began mentally going through the texts in his head. "He's a professional Quidditch player. And he's a stickler for grammar and spelling. And…and some other personal stuff."
"And what does he know about you?" she prompted.
"Uh…that I suck at spelling?" he answered after a moment. The other man had never really asked him about his life, just a greeting followed by pseudo-insults. "That's about it; he doesn't really ask me anything."
Hermione stabbed part of her omelet. "But he knows your name, Harry. That's already a one up for him."
"Yeah, 'cause people who know me but I don't know them are really rare," Harry bit back. He was getting slightly annoyed, and his tone was showing it. "Anyway, you don't have to worry about that, he said he's gonna tell me by the end of the week."
"Harry, I still don't like this," she told him, finally taking a step back, although she didn't concede entirely. "RONALD! Leave my bacon alone! You have your own!"
"But, 'Mione, I ate all mine," Ron whinged. "Pwetty pwease, 'Mione, just one piece."
Harry rolled his eyes at the exchange between his friends, somewhat thankful for the change of subject.
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The Trio spent hours together that afternoon, just sitting in Harry and Ron's flat, alternating between watching the telly and talking about whatever came to mind. At one point, Harry had the ingenious idea to go find the old photo albums he'd acquired only recently from the Creevey brothers as a End-of-War Anniversary gift. All of the pictures were taken during school or the very beginnings of the War, when everyone was still going about life as though the next day wasn't going to bring about a battle in which dozens (if not hundreds) would die.
Harry plopped himself between his two friends and opened the first book, causing the thin layer of dust that had accumulated to fill the air before them, making Harry sneeze. Wiping his nose on the back of his hand absentmindedly, he flipped to the first page, where the three of them were pictured sitting under a tree, hiding from the warm spring sun. Hermione was doing a bit of 'light reading' and running her fingers through Ron's hair, whose head was situated in her lap. Harry sat beside them, looking down at and joking with Ron over something Harry couldn't remember anymore.
The pictures in each book were never in chronological order, so every once in a while, they would come upon a picture where Ron and Hermione were glaring daggers at each other and in the very next they would be in each other's arms. Some pictures were just two of the three, sometimes missing Harry, and sometimes missing Ron, depending on who Hermione wasn't totally ticked off with on any given day during their fourth year.
A good portion of the second book was meal times and mixed House activities (excluding classes). One of the very first pictures was of the whole of the Quidditch teams during Harry's sixth year, all players in their flying robes, and the Seekers of the two rival Houses acting very much that: rivals. Harry and Malfoy were standing in a very tense way with their arms crossed and attempting to bore holes through the other's skull simply by glaring at him. The others around them just seemed to grin and roll their eyes at the show, with the exceptions of the Slytherins and the Hufflepuffs, the former scowling at everyone and the latter trying to get everyone to 'play nice'.
Another picture that stood out was of a warm spring day in their seventh year when most everyone took advantage of the lake. A good portion of the Gryffindors were horsing around and generally being teenagers in the shallows toward the shore. Most of the girls were on their backs on the shore, trying to tan, except for Hermione who was sitting upright with her head bent over a book. The Slytherins were huddled together, trying to egg Malfoy to jump from the very top of a huge rock. After much smirking and predictable boasting, he leapt from the edge in a perfect dive, disappearing under the green-blue of the water before the picture started from the beginning to replay itself.
Harry noticed his eyes lingering on the lean form of the boy diving into the water and quickly broke the contact, hoping he didn't stare long enough to warrant suspicion.
Hermione, however, noticed and hoped to Merlin that she was wrong for a change.
TBC