Chapter Nine

Harry was experiencing a severe case of déjà vu the next morning. He'd woken up in exactly the same position as he had the morning before, with Parvati asleep next to him, her steady breathing warm on his chest. It instantly put a grin on his lips. It wasn't every day you woke up next to a beautiful girl, and a naked one at that.

Harry chanced a peek out of the drapes, spotting that Neville was missing from his bed. There were a thousand and one reasons why he'd been awake so early for two days in a row, but only one reason for it in Harry's mind: Neville had himself a girlfriend. Why else would he be out of bed at such an ungodly hour?

Harry didn't think he would be able to get back to sleep any time soon. The Stamina Charm had finally worn off the night before, just as he met Parvati in the common room. He'd nearly collapsed on the way up to the dormitory, prompting Parvati to offer him the chance to rest. There was no way in hell Harry would turn down sex for something as silly as exhaustion, and he'd told her as much.

This was how Parvati wound up staying the night in Harry's bed (for the second night in a row), and how Harry woke up at the ungodly hour of six for two days running.

While Harry's sexual frustration had been completely relieved, a new frustration had taken its place. Because his magic wasn't as it should be, a simple finite wouldn't work – at all. He could say the word and point his wand at himself a hundred times, but nothing would happen. It wasn't exactly difficult for even a first year to pull off, and Harry didn't have a clue why it wasn't working for him. A simple finite just before he fell asleep would mean he wouldn't be waking up at six, and then he wouldn't be at all frustrated. Even Parvati had tried to cancel the charm, but it still hadn't worked.

However, Harry could see one benefit from waking up so early, if the previous morning's activities was anything to go by. Parvati had mentioned the night before how much she liked her sleep, but it did mean she was usually late for breakfast. Like the morning before, Harry decided to wake her up, and like the morning before, it took some convincing on his part before she did.

Parvati cracked one eye open and glared at him through a curtain of dark hair. She made a noise of protest in the back of her throat, somewhere between a moan and a grunt, and promptly fell back asleep. Her peaceful slumber didn't last very long, however, because Harry woke her up again.

"D'you have to wake me up so early?" she demanded, pouting.

Harry thought it looked remarkably cute, although he'd deny such thoughts until he was blue in the face if anyone asked. He couldn't resist kissing her, which had the added benefit of cheering her up, if only slightly.

"Just think, you have Divination first lesson," said Harry. Once Hermione had told him what Divination consisted of, Harry had immediately scoffed at the subject. Then he'd found out a prophecy had dictated much of his own life, but he'd scoffed at that as well.

Upon hearing how early it was, Parvati huffed loudly into her pillow and refused to move. She still didn't move when Harry grabbed the blanket and threw it off her naked body, although she did give an exaggerated shiver.

"Harry!"

"Do you want a massage or not?" asked Harry pointedly. As he expected, Parvati couldn't say no, although she did narrow her eyes at him when she saw his innocent expression.

"Don't think I'll just have sex with you just because you're doing this for me," she warned.

Harry simply smiled, and said, "I wouldn't dream of it."

He was lying, of course, which they both knew. It didn't matter though, because Parvati snorted at the obvious lie, dropped her head back onto the pillow and closed her eyes. Harry cracked his knuckles and got to work. It took precisely three minutes for his concentration to drift and his hands to wander, by which time they'd gone from her shoulders to the bottom of her back, and then continued south. When he reached her thighs and realised he hadn't given her much of a massage, but more or less felt her up, he refrained from going any further.

After massaging her thighs for close to five minutes, Parvati finally had enough of what she thought was him teasing her, and growled at him to just get started already.

Needless to say, Harry did exactly as he was told. As he did he wondered if life could possibly get any more perfect. Well, he told himself, as soon as he worked out how to use finite, it most definitely would be.

It wasn't a shock to either of them that a quick massage had turned to sex, and Harry cheered for the second morning in a row.

This time, Parvati joined him.

"Say, Ron," said Harry. "Did you hear me cheering earlier? More to the point, did you hear Parvati cheering earlier?"

"Of course I heard you," muttered Ron, his head in his trunk. "You stuck your heads out of the drapes and cheered in my face!"

They were in the dormitory. Ron had claimed he needed to sort out his personal belongings. That was the reason his head was in his trunk, his clothes were scattered over his bed, and his arms were covered in ink.

Harry had showered and dressed, and was now lounging on his bed and messing around with Ron's guitar (which he was playing rather atrociously). He was amusing himself by winding up the redhead. It was, he'd discovered a while back, a rather easy thing to accomplish.

Ron flinched when Harry strummed the guitar again. Although it was in tune, even Harry admitted that when he played it, it sounded worse than Hermione singing in the shower. He happened to say that out loud, and Ron's head jerked up out of his trunk.

"When have you heard Hermione singing in the shower?" he demanded.

The guitars' strings stilled, and a small smirk appeared on Harry's lips. He'd noticed recently that Ron's feelings for their bushy haired friend were only deepening.

"At your place," said Harry, deciding for once to tell the truth. A second later, he decided against it, when he added, "Did I forget to tell you? Well, I walked in on her one morning." He winked at Ron, whose face was steadily reddening. "There she was, washing that bush on her head, and singing her little heart out. Naturally I asked her if she wanted me to help scrub her back."

Ron looked like his worst nightmare had just come to life before his very eyes. His eyes were wide, and his whole body shook with, Harry guessed, pure rage.

"Hermione was so shocked that she didn't respond right away," continued Harry, wondering if he was about to get punched on the nose. It didn't stop him though; Ron's reactions were far too funny for that. And what was a little punch on the nose? It wasn't like it would kill him. "When I said I was desperately in need of a shower too, Hermione asked me to join her. You can guess what happened next, if you want, or shall I tell you?"

Ron clenched his eyes shut, and Harry swore he heard him counting down from twenty under his breath. The redhead stopped shaking, and his cheeks slowly turned back to their pale self. When he opened his eyes again, he looked straight at Harry.

"Why do you like pissing me off so much?"

"It's fun," Harry said, shrugging.

"It's not for me!"

Harry stood up from the bed, placed the guitar back on Ron's bed, and stretched. The conversation was boring him now. On top of that, the tips of his fingers were starting to hurt. Who knew that playing guitar could be mildly painful?

"Well, you like pissing Hermione off, don't you?" said Harry.

"No, I don't!" Ron stood up as well, his trunk now empty apart from a layer of spilled ink.

"Sure you do," said Harry. "You're always saying things to her, under your breath but loud enough for her to hear. Like you want her to get angry at you." A sudden light bulb went off in Harry's head, while Ron's face now completely lost what little colour it had. "Aha! That's it! You think if you piss her off then she'll give you her full attention."

Ron's mouth opened but no words formed for a long moment, until he managed to burst out with, "Well she likes pissing me off too! She's always nagging me to do something."

Harry was only half listening now. He kicked open his own trunk, which he hadn't bothered to search through since being released from St. Mungo's. He wasn't sure what he'd find, but it was bound to be more interesting than the current topic of conversation. He eyed the mound of spellbooks and clothes, hoping none of his ink pots had smashed.

"Even if you ever grow the balls to actually tell her how you feel, do you really think you two would ever work out?" Harry refrained from sighing. Even though he could only remember the past few months, it wasn't difficult to tell a girl you wanted to be with her. "I mean, it's like Hermione winds you up just so you'll piss her off. Makes no sense at all to me."

"It's not that easy," Ron said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. He'd completely abandoned sorting out his belongings now, and was perched on the side of his bed.

"It really is that easy." Harry lifted up a green dress robe, eyed it in confusion, and threw it on the bed. "I don't know why you're so worried about it."

"Maybe it's easy for you," said Ron, huffing. "But for those of us not named Harry Potter, it's not! I can't just walk up to Hermione, tell her she's more beautiful than any veela, and then kiss her. And I certainly can't tell her 'I bet you fuck like a tiger'!"

Upon remembering saying those exact words to Parvati, Harry laughed heartily, the noise bouncing off the dormitory walls. "And you know what?" he said. "She really does. Fuck like a tiger, I mean."

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but his words got lost from his brain to his mouth, and no sound came. His brow furrowed. "Hermione would kill me if I said that to her."

"Of course she wouldn't," Harry said, snorting. "She'd probably pounce on you then and there. If anyone needs a good old shagging, it's that girl."

"It's more than just a shag!" Ron exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

Harry's hand automatically went into his trunk, only this time it went straight down to the bottom. Everything that had been inside was now on his bed. He stood up, looked at Ron, and bit back another sigh. He wasn't sure what Ron wanted to hear from him, but he knew it wasn't what he was about to say.

"If you don't tell her, do you mind if I do?"

"Do I mind if you do what?" asked Ron, a hint of fire in his blue eyes.

Harry offered Ron his most charming smile, and said, "Do you mind if I go up to Hermione, tell her she's more beautiful than Fleur could ever dream of being, tell her I bet she fucks like a tiger, and then kiss her then and there."

Ron's hands were balled into fists by his side. Instead of punching Harry, he stormed out of the dormitory without saying a word.

"Well," Harry said, noticing his snake curled around one of the bedposts, and switched to Parseltongue almost without thinking, "that went well."

"You humans mate in the most remarkable of positions," said the snake.

Harry wondered if the snake was a bit of a pervert, but discarded the idea almost immediately. One thing he'd learnt from talking to the snake was that they simply didn't care about sex unless it was used to procreate. Or to mock Harry.

"Fancy some breakfast?" asked Harry. "I'm sure I can find something for you to eat."

The snake shook its head, slithering down onto the bed, where it curled into a tight coil. "I have already swallowed a frog. I caught it under the bed across the room." Its tongue flicked out. "It was very tasty."

Harry tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed in thought. What had a frog been doing in the dormitory? He thought about it for a second, but then shrugged.

"Ah well," he said to the snake. "I'll speak to you later."

Harry whistled a cheery tune as he left the room, leaving all his belongings in a mess on his bed. He paused with his foot on the top step of the stairs, thinking about the upcoming confrontation with Hermione. He just hoped he'd managed to convince Ron to express his feelings to her. With any luck, she would be so distracted (and maybe even caught up in a shag in a broom cupboard), that she would completely forget about Harry.

If all else failed, Harry was seriously thinking of slipping a Calming Drought in her pumpkin juice.

Hermione was in the Great Hall, absently nibbling on a slice of buttered toast, completely lost in thought. She was jolted out those thoughts moments later, when Ron nudged her shin with the toe of his shoe under the table.

"Ron," she said, blinking rapidly. "Have you seen Harry?"

Ron's jaw clenched upon hearing Harry's name, and he refused to meet Hermione's eyes. The tips of his ears went red, and Hermione assumed that Harry had said or done something. It wouldn't be the first time. She could guess what he'd done. It didn't take a genius to figure it out.

"Parvati stayed the night again, didn't she?" said Hermione sympathetically.

"Huh?" Ron's eyes showed confusion for a moment, before he nodded. "Oh, yeah. She did." He stabbed his egg with his fork. "She only left an hour or so ago."

Hermione took another bite of toast. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Harry since … that night. It was rather obvious he was avoiding her, and he'd done a remarkably good job of doing so. He'd skived off classes, which irritated her, although Snape had actually smiled. Hermione repressed a shudder at the image. She'd never seen him smile before, and she never wanted to see it again. It had only been for the briefest of milliseconds, but it was enough to make her want to violently hurt the man.

"Listen, Hermione," Ron said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He was pushing his fork around the plate, refusing to look at her once again. "I need to tell you something. It's just … well, I'm not sure how to say it. Harry said … and I mean … it's not like I'm just saying it because—"

"For goodness sake, Ron," said Hermione, starting to get dizzy from listening to him ramble. "What on earth is the problem?"

Ron deflated before her very eyes. "I can't say," he mumbled despairingly. He got to his feet, his breakfast mostly untouched. "I'm sorry. I can't do it, not like this. I'll see you later."

Hermione frowned as she watched him walk away from her, all the way out of the Hall. He'd sounded so … broken. It made her want to rush after him and force him to admit what he wanted to say, but then she saw Harry stroll into the Hall, whistling. He looked like he didn't have a care in the world. It was a refreshing change from his past demeanour, and it made her smile. She'd wanted him to be happy and carefree since she'd known him, and now that he was, she found she hadn't been prepared for what that entailed. He was acting like the teenager he was, one that he had never been able to be.

Harry sat down opposite her, the seat which Ron had just vacated, and begun piling food onto his plate.

"You've been avoiding me, Harry Potter," said Hermione.

"Yes," said Harry. "Yes, I have."

"I'm sorry about deliberately walking in on you and Parvati," said Hermione. She felt her cheeks start to burn, but ignored her embarrassment. "When Ron came back down to the common room and told me what you were doing, I was a bit …"

"Jealous?" asked Harry, grinning.

"NO!" Hermione glared at him, which he ignored, of course. "I was concerned, actually. I know you're seventeen, and certainly not the only one having sex in the castle, but this is so unlike you. You never did anything like this before the … well, before." Hermione whipped her to the left, where Dean was sitting, and to the right, which was free of anyone. She lowered her voice. "You've never had the talk, Harry. Did you even think to use protection?"

Harry's hand paused halfway to his mouth, where he was holding a fork, which was speared into a sausage. "I may have lost my memories, Hermione, but I'm not stupid." His eyes took on a mischievous look, one which Hermione had come to know very well. "I take it you have had the talk, then?"

"Of course," said Hermione. "My mum sat me down when I was ten."

"Oh?" said Harry. "Well, I'm sure my dad would have, but seeing as he's not around, perhaps you can take his place?" He bit into the end of his sausage. "Since you seem so determined to tell me all about it, give me the details, Hermione."

Hermione stuttered horribly, white as a sheet. This wasn't what she'd had in mind. Nevertheless, she was Harry's friend, and she would do her best. Thinking back to what her mum had told her, she discarded it almost immediately. That talk had been directed at a ten year old, not a seventeen year old whose hormones were out of control.

"What would you like to know?" asked Hermione, her voice barely audible.

Harry grinned. "Tell me, what is a clitoris?"

From next to Hermione, Dean violently coughed. Hermione flinched, watching Dean thump his chest with his fist. When he finally recovered, he looked at them, eyes wide.

"You two have really interesting topics to discuss over breakfast, don't you?" He shook his head, as if in disbelief, and looked at Harry. "And don't give me that bollocks, mate. Stop winding Hermione up."

"Way to ruin the fun, Thomas. I was just getting started!" Harry whined. "I didn't even get to ask her how old she was when she first had her period, or started growing hair…" Harry met Hermione's eyes and winked, "… down there."

Hermione didn't know what made her say it, but she boldly replied, "I think the better question would be, do I still have hair down there now…" Hermione smirked in satisfaction, watching Dean's jaw drop and Harry's eyes grow wide. "And I'll have you know that I don't, thank you very much."

"Fucking hell," muttered Dean, rising from his seat. "This just got way too weird for me."

Hermione watched him go, and then turned to Harry. She suddenly felt very self-conscious, and wondered what on earth had possessed her to say something so immature. She blamed it on Harry, of course.

"I think it's a damned good thing you do shave," said Harry. "I can only imagine you'd need to, if the hair on your head is any indication to go by. It'd be like traipsing through an unexplored forest in search of a rare pussy … cat."

Hermione dropped her head into her hands, groaning pitifully. "You're not funny, Harry."

Harry laughed. "You can't even tell me off now, after what you said."

"Only because you're so disgusting! It's rubbing off on me!" snarled Hermione. She saw Harry's lips quirk in a grin, and added, "And don't you dare make a joke about you rubbing off on me!"

Harry laughed even harder. "What about a joke where you rub off on me, and not I on you?" He held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. Tell me what Ron said to you. I saw him leave here when I came in."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "You know exactly what he wanted to tell me, don't you?"

"I sure do."

"Well, he didn't say very much at all," said Hermione, frowning.

"Ah," said Harry. Hermione swore he looked disappointed. "Tell me, Hermione, what's our first lesson?"

"Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Then I think we'd best get there. Unless you fancy staying here, of course," said Harry. "You can tell me all about your first orgasm."

Hermione just threw her leftover piece of toast at him, which he managed to dodge just in time. The toast sailed over his head and smacked Pansy Parkinson on the back of the head, causing Harry to laugh all the way to class.

"Good morning," said Remus Lupin upon entering his classroom full of seventh year students. He wasted no time in beating around the bush. "I'm sure your other professors have told you already, but this year is N.E.W.T year, and it will be the most difficult year of all."

Predictably, the students groaned at him, with the exception of Hermione and Harry. Hermione looked eager to get started, while Harry seemed to be whispering in her ear, making her face go a curious mix of embarrassed and … Remus wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Now, since you've had six different professors in six different years, I thought I'd start off with a little test." There were more groans, and a gleam entered Hermione's eyes. "Not to worry. You'll find this isn't a normal test. Today will be focused entirely on the basics, so to speak. I assure you that the work will become much harder as we progress through the year, but today we will be casting just two spells." Remus saw the surprise etched into the students faces. "Stand up everyone, and allow me to clear the room."

Once the desks were pushed up against the far wall, and the students were silent again, Remus continued. "We'll start with the Stunning Spell. I trust you all know the incantation?"

As expected, Hermione's hand flew up instantly. "Stupefy, Remus," she said, and then blushed. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I meant to say Professor Lupin."

"That's quite all right, Miss Granger," said Remus with a kind smile. "Ten points to Gryffindor for your answer. The second spell is the Shield Charm. I assume, like the Stunning Spell, you all know the incantation?"

"Nope," said Harry, the only one to speak.

Malfoy laughed derisively. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey!" snarled Ron. "He still beat your master, didn't he?"

"Now, now," interjected Remus, keeping his smile firmly in place. "For those that don't know, the incantation is Protego. Now, I want you to form a line." He waited for them do just that, before he continued. "Good. When I call your name, I want you to first shield yourself from my Stunning Spell. If you manage to do so, you will have your chance to attempt to stun me. All spells must be cast silently."

Draco Malfoy suddenly looked a lot more interested in this lesson, and so did a few others. However, because he'd been dawdling, he was stuck near the back of the line and forced to wait. The first person up was Hermione Granger, who expertly stopped Remus's Stunning Spell. In turn, Remus blocked her own attempt.

"Very well done, Miss Granger." Remus smiled. He'd expected no less. "Take another ten points."

Ron's shield held firm, and Remus blocked the return fire. The trend continued with Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Parvati Patil. If Remus remembered correctly, they had all been taught by none other than Harry, who was up next.

Harry held eye contact with Remus. The werewolf hesitated. Harry wasn't on par with his classmates due to his accident. He'd heard from McGonagall and Flitwick that Harry's magic was acting a little strange. The spell Remus sent at Harry was weaker than his previous attempts, and he held his breath in hope. Harry brought up his wand, but the confidence in his eyes disappeared when his wand produced no results. The Stunning Spell smacked into his forehead, instantly knocking him out.

Malfoy roared with laughter. "Did you see him?" Malfoy flung his wand up and down, imitating Harry's attempt, and laughed again. "A squib could do better! Merlin, Longbottom practically is a squib, and he managed to do it."

Neville stepped forward, a steely glint in his gaze, holding his wand loosely by his side. "If you're so certain of yourself, Malfoy, why don't you show me what you can do?"

"Neville," hissed Hermione. "You're Head Boy, you shouldn't be goading him like this."

"That's all right," said Harry, who was now awake, courtesy of Remus. "I'll give Malfoy a duel if he wants one."

"Really?" drawled Malfoy. "Did you hit your head again when the werewolf stunned you?" Then, without warning, he snapped his wand down across his body, shooting a spell straight at Harry's chest.

Remus recognised the spell as a Nose-Growing Curse, and raised his wand to shield Harry from harm. However, Harry got there before him. The black haired teenager, who reminded Remus so much of James and Sirius, lifted his wand and batted the spell away with a casual flick of his wand. Remus felt his jaw slacken. Where had that come from?

Harry tilted his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips. "Try again, Draco."

Malfoy snarled fiercely, bringing his wand forward to unleash another spell. Remus watched the red beam of light leave the end of the wand, recognising it instantly as the Stunner. Malfoy was obviously holding back from deadlier spells with a teacher in the room.

Harry simply raised his wand, catching the spell with its tip. A collective gasp spread across the watching students, and Remus couldn't help but swell with pride.

"I think you'll find I'm not quite useless," said Harry, his calm demeanour suddenly turning savage. He made a slow circular motion with his wand, which ended with a flick, and the Stunning Spell rocketed back at Malfoy. A shield sprang into place, blocking the spell. What the blond boy didn't expect was another spell, hidden half a second behind his own Stunner, to pierce his shield. Malfoy didn't have enough time to recast it, and Harry's next spell hit him square in the midsection.

A moment of silence passed in which nothing happened and everyone held their breath. Then, Malfoy was suddenly standing there as naked as the day he was born, his clothing having completely vanished into thin air. Hastily covering his bits, Malfoy dropped his wand, his face burning. It was Hermione, oddly enough, who was the first to crack up. It instantly made Ron join her, and then most of them were roaring with laughter.

Pansy Parkinson had the good sense to cover up her boyfriend with a conjured robe.

"I'm so sorry, Pansy," said Harry, turning to the girl who was as wide eyed as her boyfriend. "I think every boy in this room suddenly feels a lot better about themselves."

Pansy glared at him, but there was none of its usual venom in her gaze. She seemed entirely too concerned with dragging Malfoy out of the room, and Crabbe and Goyle followed them.

"Did you see his pale little chicken legs?" Seamus asked through his laughter.

"What about his two inch—"

"Settle down now," interjected Remus, stopping Ron from completing that sentence.

Try as he might, Remus couldn't get the class to settle down for the rest of the lesson. When it finally finished, he distinctly heard Harry telling Parvati how he'd vanished Draco's Shield Charm, and then vanished his robes. Remus would forever wish he hadn't witnessed seeing that, but he couldn't help thinking that Harry's thought process had been quite ingenious. Who would ever think of vanishing a Shield Charm?

"Harry," said Remus. "Could you stay behind for a moment?"

Remus used the distraction of the students filing out of the room to give him some time to think, and he came to a conclusion.

Harry stood at his desk, eyebrow raised.

"I hear you've had some trouble with your magic?" said Remus. At Harry's nod, he continued, "If you wish, I could help you regain your proficiency with a wand."

"Really?" Harry said eagerly.

Remus smiled. "Of course. You were a rather fearsome fighter before your accident, and with some practice, I'm sure you can be just as fierce once again."

Voldemort was gone, but that didn't mean Harry was safe. Remus knew very well that even now, somewhere outside and maybe inside Hogwarts' walls, someone was plotting Harry's death. Harry simply needed to know how to defend himself.

A/N Any chance of a review? I'd love to hear some thoughts on this.