Jean, Chapter 19 Which Way is Up?
December 30th, 1993
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
As she lay in her comfortable bed, cuddling her furry new friend, Hermione reflected that the day had been a day like none other in her memory.
The beginning was as ordinary as it could be in a wizarding household.
Warming charms to heat the room enough to slip from the cozy-charmed bed. Magically set water temperature to make a perfect shower. No steam on the charmed mirror, no risk of slipping on the charmed tiles (which were also nice and warm). No risk of interruption with 'colloportus' and 'imperturbable' charms.
No lost socks with 'accio', no difficulty finding a certain jumper with sorting charms. Hermione was quickly finding that life as a witch was a bit addicting – she could even see how magic might make people lazy.
With that troubling thought she headed down to breakfast. There she discovered another aspect of living with a teenage boy in the house – and an adult that was just as juvenile, if not more so – that magic made more... intense.
Pranks.
It seemed that now that she had officially passed her Hogwarts entrance exams, Sirius felt himself free to fully reveal his childish side.
The demonstration of this was quite evident the moment she entered the kitchen, by Harry's hair.
Normally messy, it was quite... done up. She couldn't think of any other words to describe his three foot tall yellow and magenta mohawk.
A hairstyle that Harry seemed quite oblivious to, if the way that he was more concerned with his cereal was any indication. To be fair his cereal was keeping him busy as he tried to interrupt it from spelling mildly obscene and ridiculous messages – and then speaking them out loud in a burbling noise akin to someone speaking under water.
Blinking in confusion, she made the mistake of assuming that Harry was the only target.
Not so.
As soon as she sat down she noticed that her fingernails sparkled and flashed various neon colors.
Then her eggs burped when she touched her fork to them.
Her pumpkin juice wouldn't come out of the glass in sips, only in gushes.
Lastly she realized that she had begun humming along with whatever it was that Sirius, Harry and even Remus were humming. She couldn't quite place the tune and looked up once more to survey the others at the table.
Harry seemed amused by her predicament; however it appeared that his vision would randomly tilt for a few moments at a time as he turned his head quite often, apparently to see straight.
Someone had gotten Sirius at least once though, his chest hair kept growing up over his collar and trying to get into his mouth. As she watched he cast some form of incantation which reversed the growth, only for it to steal back up his neck moments later. The dark haired wizard seemed simultaneously irked and amused as he emphatically jabbed his wand into his chest, causing the hair to tumble out – and onto his omelet.
If Harry found this amusing she could not tell, he seemed to be staring at nothing in particular with a silly grin.
Remus alone seemed unfazed by the enchanted anarchy. He sat at the corner of the table peacefully reading the Daily Prophet, his only participation was the low humming all four seemed to share. Hermione wondered if the Defense against the Dark Arts Professor was showing who was boss, or if the other two were just ignoring him?
The general air of mischief continued as one or the other of the dark haired 'boys' would not so subtly point their wand at the other.
Harry's mohawk parted in the middle and began flapping like a ridiculous and overburdened bird.
Sirius suddenly couldn't help but stand and begin tap-dancing.
Remus seemed to have adjusted humming his tune along with Lord Black's remarkable agility.
Everyone was giggling at the various effects until Hermione began to gag.
In truth she would have been fine except she had begun to feel compelled to sing along with the tune they had all been humming. The gagging was the result of her attempt to stifle herself. You see it wasn't a Christmas carol that the group were humming perfectly in tune.
It was a love song.
In fact she wasn't just fighting to refrain from singing the words. She was battling the urge to sing about Harry.
She was out the door and up the stairs as fast as her twinkling toes could carry her.
Never again would she come to breakfast without her wand.
. . .
Once that obstacle had been passed (finite incantatem was such a necessary spell, why on earth did they wait till second year spells to cover it?) the day progressed normally – if more than a little warily – until just before lunch time.
Coming down stairs for lunch (she had been sorting books all morning, not hiding) she heard voices. Now, this was not unusual, and she recognized both Sirius and Harry as the speakers; again, nothing unusual.
It was the tone of those voices, although she couldn't quite make out her hosts' words. The joviality or sarcasm she generally associated with Sirius's baritone was much more measured. In fact he almost sounded... well, serious.
Then there were Harry's responses, which Hermione could clearly hear: "Yes sir.", a slight pause, "Yes sir.", then, "I understand, sir."
'What was That all about?' She wondered as she hesitated on the stairs.
The witch did not get a chance to find out as the pair went into the kitchen where she (cautiously) joined them.
Apparently the morning's frivolity was a passing episode. Either that or her abrupt departure did in fact have the hoped for (though unintended) consequence of making the males fear that they had crossed a line.
Though she detected a bit of restraint, their banter was as light as always.
While lunch was being served by a largely unnoticed Kreacher, Sirius asked Hermione how long she thought she might need picking out a dress. Any attempt at clarification was derailed by Harry's ridiculous question.
"Why do you need a new dress anyways?" The teen asked, seemingly completely sincere, as he then obviously awaited an answer.
Hermione, with only Sirius there to turn to (Remus had returned to Hogwarts to prepare for the coming term) realized that neither of them had seen her in her 'rescue' gown. Still, as Lord Black, he should certainly understand the fact that if she went to two balls – at the same location no less – dressed in the same gown, it would look as though it was the only one she owned.
Never mind that she didn't even own that one – it had been returned to some Order member or another – the very idea was inconceivable.
Yet, how could she point that out, especially to guys, without... 'I'm over thinking this' the young woman realized with a fond if painful memory of her Mum's advice about boys: "In your best condescending voice, tell them 'that is just how women do things'" she had advised.
So, with the realization that she had been quiet for some time and both males were obviously growing uncomfortable, she stated, "Because that is how a young Lady does things. Any other questions?"
She hadn't meant to put quite so much 'posh' into her reply, but Harry's wide eyed – and still obviously confused – expression was evidence that she had quite surprised him.
'Good,' she mused with a small smile and tucked into a much quieter – and less eventful – lunch.
. . .
The noon meal finished, Hermione changed into her nicest 'wizarding casual wear'. She had to find out who bought the clothes and get them a card. Her favorite outfit was a silky cream mandarin-collared blouse tucked into a matching calf-length skirt. The fact that the shoes fit perfectly, were scuff-proofed and sure-footed even though they were three inch heels didn't hurt her feelings either. Magic was indeed so cool!
As she descended the stairs, voices from the entry hall confirmed that she was a bit late. She could hear Sirius's booming voice and a young woman's laugh as she reached the bottom step.
Hermione rounded the corner to find Harry turned away from her, apparently demonstrating something requiring him to hunch completely down.
Luna was watching intensely, her wide grey eyes sparkling as she giggled at his antics. She wore a bright yellow and pink sundress (a sundress in December?) and what appeared to be actual cowboy boots. Bright green cowboy boots.
Sirius, much more sensibly dressed in a classic dark grey suit, was nodding enthusiastically when Harry jumped up from his crouch.
The boy exclaimed, "but I did catch it, even if it was in my mouth! I about choked, but we won the match!"
Luna nodded sagely while the males laughed uproariously. Thankfully Hermione only had to hover at the periphery for a moment before Sirius caught sight of her.
"There you are young lady. Come along, I've got an appointment and I hear you all have quite a day planned!" With that, Lord Black turned, stated "The Leaky Cauldron", and was through the floo with no more delays.
Harry seemed to double-take as he looked her over, smiling that big goofy grin of his, head tilted slightly to one side. She liked that his smiles always reached his eyes. He wasn't taking her to the ball, but at least he noticed her if that look was any indication.
"Ladies first," he bowed slightly as he motioned Luna towards the green flames. A pinch of floo powder and she was on her way. Harry continued to smile as he awaited Hermione's passage.
A jumbled, nerve-jangling ride later and she stumbled out of the floo and into the steady arms of her host. Still not exactly fond of floo travel (she'd been to Diagon a few times with Remus and/or Tonks) she was doubly glad for the charms that also kept her clothing spotless. Especially when she saw how much soot had covered Luna's brightly colored print dress. Hermione had her wand out and the dress cleaned before Luna even seemed to have noticed.
Sirius had, however, and while Harry was picking himself up (he landed rather badly, but seemed unsurprised) Lord Black grinned down at his guest.
"Looks like you've about gotten used to this waving sticks around business, hey?" he delivered with a rakish grin.
Hermione blushed slightly at the reminder of one of her comments from her first days in this strange new world.
She noticed that Harry was grinning fondly at her. Glancing at Luna, she found that the blonde appeared to be staring fixedly at a sprig of mistletoe by the stairs.
Sirius broke the moment as he declared himself on his way – and went out through the muggle exit instead of towards the Alley.
Harry rather gallantly offered each young lady an arm and led them towards the entrance to the wizarding center of London.
. . .
The trio seemed to attract a lot of attention, and while Hermione knew that Harry was famous as The-Boy-Who-Lived, he seemed to be oblivious to the stares. She wondered if he were egotistical or just ignoring the various, and sometimes quite rude, comments and questions.
Luna seemed as unconcerned as Harry, perhaps more so; while his face was set in a resolutely neutral expression, the blonde seemed quite happy, even humming a strangely familiar tune as they made their way down the street.
Hermione's musings were interrupted as Harry brought them to a stop outside a shop that she had not noticed on her previous visits.
Harry pointed into the store, asking, "Do either of you need a pet, for school?"
Luna stopped humming long enough to utter, "Nope, your beautiful Hedwig takes care of my post just fine. Besides, I've never been much interested in regular animals."
While these statements seemed to make about as much sense as could be expected to Hermione, Harry seemed to find the last bit quite funny; though he squelched his snort and just grinned at the blonde.
"Well, that beautiful bird deserves some treats, if you two beautiful ladies wouldn't mind the delay?"
Shrugging away her blush at the compliment, the bushy haired brunette decided 'why not look' since they had the whole afternoon.
Entering the store, which the magically bright sign proclaimed to be "Magical Menagerie", the trio were assaulted by a cacophony of noises and a deluge of smells.
"Quiet!" Hollered a plump older fellow in dark brown robes at the back of the store. Remarkably, the vast majority of the shop's denizens immediately settled as the noise dropped to the odd squeaks and rustling. Sadly, the odor did not abate.
Inside the large wooden building was every type of cage, terrarium, perch and lair imaginable. In and on these there were a myriad of creatures.
While almost all of them were recognizable to Hermione, there were some that were clearly of 'unique' stock. The tortoise whose back seemed encrusted in gems was large enough for the three of them to ride, if uncomfortably. A terrarium nearby contained a sleek looking animal that the bookworm initially thought was a mink, until she noticed the extra set of legs and golden tint of it's coat.
The more closely she looked, the more she had to revise her initial appraisal.
Walking through the store, she caught sight of Harry gathering his purchase and was just turning to leave when she found herself being stared at.
The creature, for cat seemed too insufficient a term for it, had the most unique eyes Hermione had ever seen. They weren't exactly orange, nor were they gold. They had a bit of a glow to them, but more importantly they seemed to be regarding her, as if this rather large feline were measuring her.
Taking an involuntary step forward, the young witch looked at the thick, orange furred creature and thought it was quite lovely.
The proprietor's rough voice bellowed from the counter, "That'd be Crookshanks. Best watch that one, he's got a bit of an attitude he does. Has the run of the place as he won't stay put anyplace I set for him. No ordinary cat is he, half Kneazle and smart as you please, but he's been here for years, nobody wants him." The man said matter-of-factly.
Then, as if realizing that Crookshanks was glaring at the man, he hastily added, "I'm sure he's just waiting for the right witch though, what do you say?"
"He's gorgeous!" Hermione gushed, and the giant 'cat' began a rumbling purr that the enthusiastic witch could feel in her chest.
"That'd be twenny-two galleon'n four sickles, but se'en how yer a friend o'Harry here, I'll make it an e'en twenny." The shop keep stated.
The young woman reached out and picked up the surprisingly light (for his size) creature. She had just realized the error of this move (her hands were full and there was simply no way for her to reach her coin purse) when she heard the ring of the register, followed by the owner's cheerful, "Pleasure." as he shut the drawer.
Looking past the mass of orange fur, she saw that lop-sided grin that she had thought so endearingly hers just a few days ago.
"He's all yours, a 'going to school' gift." Harry proclaimed. Turning, she found Luna had a gentle, almost dreamy look on her face, so apparently she wasn't jealous of her boyfriend buying gifts for other girls.
"Thank you Harry," she answered softly, even as the large cat shifted around in her arms, somehow making himself even less of a burden. He had also reduced his purr to a low rumble, one that made her feel warmed throughout.
"Listen, I've got an idea," Harry was saying. "I know you just got him, but we've got a bit of shopping to do and then you have a dress fitting."
Hermione almost interrupted, she realized right away how impulsive she had been, losing track of all logic in her 'choice' to take the half-Kneazle. She didn't quite get a protest formed before Harry continued.
"I think you might be able to settle him into your room and come back, if you were to ask for help nicely."
Squinting now, Hermione began to wonder what kind of game Harry was playing. While she certainly didn't want to try to floo back to Grimmauld – or anyplace for that matter – with twelve pounds of fur and claws, she didn't like the idea of side-along apparition with Sirius and the same said claws any better.
Her expression must have reflected her waning patience as Harry smiled a gentle, if crooked grin and gave the one word answer to the dilemma, "Dobby?"
The elf appeared at Harry's side with a small 'pop'. Hermione was impressed to see that the little fellow was wearing a deep-blue hued, one-piece outfit similar to Kreacher's, along with his now trademark flashing Christmas socks.
"Harry Potter is calling Dobby, how may Dobby serve House Potter?" The elf squeaked out.
Lowering himself to his haunches, Harry smiled first at the elf, then led his gaze to Hermione and her new friend. "Dobby, this is Hermione's new pet-"
"-Familiar." Hermione interrupted, and was shocked to have done so. She realized that she was blushing a bit, yet even though she didn't know why, 'pet' just wasn't the right word for the hybrid. She wanted to do a lot of research before she was sure, but somehow this fellow was more than met the eye; of that the young woman was sure.
"I read about it somewhere, he's not just an ordinary cat, though I'm not sure how I know."
The 'cat' in question thrummed with a loud, rumbling purr for a few moments as he pushed his flat faced head under Hermione's chin, then settled back into place.
The three teens grinned at one another for a moment, then Harry got back to the matter at hand.
"Dobby, could you take Miss Granger and her, uhm familiar, back to her room at Grimmauld Place and return her here please? I think he would much prefer travelling with you than through the floo system."
The large orange creature regarded Harry, then Dobby, from his perch. Seeming to approve, he settled his head back down in the fold of Hermione's arms as his purr settled back into that reassuringly warm, low thrum.
"We'll wait here for you," Harry stated as a gratefully smiling Hermione reached down to take Dobby's extended hand.
The sensation was similar to that of side-along, but only because that's all she had to compare it to. It was altogether smoother, and more importantly, much less disorienting than apparition.
'Crookshanks', still resting comfortably in her arms, never stopped his low purr so she assumed he was fine with elf travel.
She took some time to settle him into her room, going so far as to get a bowl of water for him and ask Kreacher up to introduce the two. Kreacher was... not impressed, if his appraisal of "Very well, for one week," was any indication.
Dobby helpfully produced a cat-bed out of thin air, a feat for which Hermione gave him a kiss on the forehead. (While she might have been capable of transfiguring a blanket into a short term arrangement, she was a long ways from conjuring anything lasting, let alone of such obvious quality.)
Finally, after fretting over her new companion for a while, she realized that Harry and Luna were probably bored waiting for her in that smelly store.
"See you in a little while Crooks," she said fondly to the cat, who appeared to be slumbering in his new bed. "I'm ready to go back Dobby."
Moments later she stood next to Harry, who had the strangest look upon his face. Thanking Dobby, she turned to see Luna was at the register and the owner was loading a bag, sporting a wide grin.
Harry quickly stepped into her view and asked several questions about Crookshanks, about travelling with Dobby, and even segueing into mutual complaints about side-along apparition.
The whole time he seemed intent upon not allowing her to look towards Luna. She was no dummy, she figured the young blonde was probably buying a treat for Crooks or something along those lines. So she played along until finally the witch in question sidled up to the pair of them with a somewhat dreamy-eyed look that gave nothing away.
The brunette witch had played only a few games of poker with her friends back at Wolfson, yet she knew intuitively that she'd never want to try to out-bluff the blonde.
Hermione considered the day so far as the three of them moved down the street towards Madam Malkin's. While Luna was certainly full of smiles and good cheer, she only gave Harry light hugs and held his arm quite properly. She never once acted openly amorous towards the wizard. Hermione was glad that they were not overt in their affections like some of her recent classmates – but then again many of those were college students in their late teens.
She found the couple easy to get along with, especially since Luna didn't seem to mind that Harry gave Hermione just as much, if possibly even more attention than he gave to the blonde.
The brunette had to suppress a giggle at the way she and the other witch had ganged up on the lone wizard when he suggested they go get lunch and ice cream before the fitting. Even she, who had nary a fashion-bone in her petite body, knew better than to eat before getting fitted for clothing!
Between her and Luna's arguments, they had made Harry desperate to retract his suggestion – thus they were escorted by the bemused boy to the front door of the dress shop a few minutes later.
At first Harry had stood to the side, his shy side coming very much to the fore-front in the crowded clothing store. Hermione, knowing that her dress had been set aside by Draco, only needed her gown adjusted. If she remembered what she had overheard correctly, Harry had made the comment that they would need to pick out a gown for Luna.
Thus, taking a low, diplomatic tone, she urged Harry to get busy helping the blonde to find something. Her parting shot of "It's what I would want my boyfriend to do," seemed to leave the boy particularly confused.
Hermione had no time to dwell on his cute, yet odd response as she had been called for her fitting.
She was happy to find the small side-room had been charmed against the press of sound from the front. The quiet allowed her to concentrate her full attention on the most breath-taking gown she had ever seen.
The attendant's voice interrupted her reverie, and she had to blink and give a blushing blank stare as she had no idea what the woman had said.
"I said, Mr. Malfoy mentioned an inlaid comb, to match the gown. Did you bring it?" the seamstress asked with a small, proud smile. She obviously liked Hermione's reaction to the dress enough to forgive the girl ignoring her.
"Y-yes!" Hermione enthused, producing the comb from the small magical bag Tonks had lent her.
The older witch held the gold and topaz jewelry to various parts of the gown, turning the cloth on it's mannequin and even using her wand to adjust the interior lighting to gauge the effect. This lady was very thorough!
With small, precise movements Hermione watched the seamstress make minor adjustments to the color until she was satisfied. She nodded as though to herself, then turned to her apparently forgotten customer. Not that the young witch was at all put off – she was quite fascinated watching the woman work her craft.
Just then a young woman's voice was heard on the other side of the thin partition-door. "Madam Malkin? How long until the snow-silk fur is done?"
"Tell Claudia, that is Miss Tervane, that she will have her dress for tomorrow, as promised. But not until tomorrow, as I reminded her yesterday," huffed the woman, who Hermione realized with a start was the owner. "Sarah?" she quickly continued, with resignation now in her tone.
"Yes ma'am?" the woman replied, still at the door.
"Disregard my snippy answer, simply stick to the facts – the dress will be ready by three tomorrow. And remember to smile my dear, always smile," Madam Malkin trailed off as she turned a wry grin towards Hermione.
"Sorry, dear, the lead up to the New Years events is always crazy. Three major balls, two industry dinners, and a wedding of all things. You, my lucky young miss, are going to the biggest ticket of them all, so lets get you into this dress and make sure you look just perfect for your generous benefactor," she finished with a bright smile which took the sting out of her words.
Two wand swishes later, Hermione found herself holding her breath at the beauty of the gown – again.
She could scarcely credit her eyes that the gown, which had looked so wonderful on the hanger, was still stunning on her.
Seeing might be believing, but the young woman was still staring in wonder as the proprietor used expert wand movements to straighten and smooth, tuck and let out, raise the hem an inch and lower the shoulders just a tad.
With a few quick beauty charms for her hair and another pair of those wonderfully self-sizing, balance-steadying four inch heels (she guessed that the extra height was to suit her date for the ball more than anything), Hermione was led out of the fitting room.
She had just enough time to consider that she would be getting Harry and his girlfriend's opinion – and maybe rubbing his face in it a bit – before she saw Draco staring at her wide-eyed.
The platinum-blonde haired boy was standing next to an equally gobsmacked appearing Harry.
Hermione's blush turned from pride to embarrassment as the two young men seemed to have lost their wits. 'Really,' she thought, that old negative inner voice biting out harshly, 'that's a bit much, it's just me.'
Yet, as the two wizards scrambled to pull themselves together, her worries started to buckle under their praise. For once they finally found their voices, it almost seemed as though they were trying to out-do one another with a series of compliments, both sounding quite genuine.
The attention was becoming a bit uncomfortable when she spied Luna off to the side. The blonde was lovely in a shoulder-baring full-length gown which was black as it flared from her slender hips and a silvery grey above the belt where it hugged her youthful curves.
Although Hermione had been bashfully excited at the compliments both boys had paid her, she couldn't help but feel disappointment in Harry at the way he was ignoring of his own girlfriend. Maybe he wasn't such a great guy after all.
Oddly, Luna didn't seem at all put out by the obvious snub. Instead she seemed quite happy to stand to the side and wait for notice, apparently watching the hustle and bustle all around the busy store.
So the brunette decided to take the initiative, turning away from the wizards and moving towards her fellow witch.
"That's a great gown Luna, I think it's amazing how well the top matches your eyes," she enthused, genuine in her appreciation now that she took a moment to notice the details. Luna's hair was slightly curled and tucked, exposing her long graceful neck. While Hermione still thought the girl looked rather young, she could see the beauty that the blonde would be, and quite soon. At least Harry had good taste... 'Which explains why he's not interested in you,' that harsh inner-voice spoke up.
The boys, of course, quickly joined in lauding Luna's appearance, although Draco's words seemed to hold more politeness than the sincerity he spoke with towards her. Or was that her ego and imagination? Regardless, the negative thoughts about her desirability were struggling against the fond looks that the two wizards were giving her.
Shaking the fruitless thoughts aside, Hermione ignored the boys and discussed shoe options with Luna. She couldn't remember ever being so excited - or 'girlish' - and the new experience held her attention for a few minutes.
Noticing that Luna had gone quiet, she heard a low but obviously heated conversation behind her. Turning, Hermione found Harry staring at her rather intently again, but much to her dismay he looked quite thunderous. Even as she watched, the two young men seemed to be having quite a strained, if muted conversation, their words only sounding like a droning buzz.
Draco, instead of looking put out, looked... somewhat bemused? He gestured at his vest, cravat and cummerbund, then towards Hermione and that seemed to stop Harry cold. Draco's colors perfectly matched Hermione's golden hues.
The brunette witch noticed that while Harry's dark suit appeared fitted, all of his accouterments were plain white. Even as she took in these details she noted that the dark haired boy's posture had become rigid. He spoke in clipped tones, still muted obviously by a spell. Whatever he said, the blonde boy's only response was a curt nod.
Spinning on his heel, Harry strode towards her. For a moment she thought the boy was going to say something, but then he veered around her and only spoke as he passed. "We'll meet you out front. When you are done we'll meet Sirius at Fortescue's."
His voice sounded different than she'd heard it before, strained, and... bitter?
Draco stepped forward as the dark haired boy moved to speak with Luna.
His focus hadn't shifted from her, as his comment confirmed, "You look exceptionally radiant in that gown, I will be the envy of the ball." The younger Malfoy proclaimed with an exaggeratedly haughty tone.
Turning, Hermione found the snooty look upon his face entirely too much and burst into a giggle before she could help it. The tension was broken as Draco's upturned-nose-expression became a genuine grin.
"That's better," he said with an easy smile. "Harry's a bit intense, don't let him get you down with his grumpy moods. I take it you're staying with Lord Black then?"
His question seemed innocent, and Hermione didn't pick up anything untoward in the young man's posture or tone, so she answered simply, "Yes, Lord Black and Emmy have some family or something in common so that's where I landed, at least until school begins."
She winced a bit internally, that was a lot to give away, but she felt comfortable in the blonde wizards presence. His easy going manner was a sharp contrast to the seeming roller coaster of emotions she felt around Harry.
Still, her stomach clenched a bit at the way the day had taken such a wrong turn in such a short time. The young witch found herself struggling to give Draco constructive criticism on his choice of tuxedo jacket. Meanwhile her mind whirled around all of the implications of the very few events that brought the light-hearted afternoon with Harry to a sudden crash.
Madam Malkin soon vied for Draco's attention, but before he left he took her hand in his and laid the merest brush of his lips against her knuckles, promising to be awaiting her arrival at six the next evening.
As the blonde wizard went to speak with the shop owner, Hermione was led back to the private room to change out of her gown. She was all the way back into her own clothes before she came out of her fog.
No matter how she turned the problem in her mind she could not find the answer to Harry's perplexing attitude. Given his various moods since she had known the young man, Hermione reluctantly concluded that perhaps she didn't really know him at all.
She found Harry and Luna standing outside as promised. The wizard looked cross, and did not meet her eyes. Luna was humming happily again, giving Hermione a quick grin before she took each of their arms, the blonde leading from the middle.
Harry only allowed this arrangement for a few steps before sliding gracefully between the witches. He still did not look happy, but he did offer his arm as a proper gentleman.
They walked across the busy streets to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour; and though Harry continued to escort the witches, he was stiff and unresponsive to either of their questions or comments.
Since he was Luna's boyfriend, and she seemed to be content with ignoring his ill temper, Hermione followed suit.
The ice cream shop had some very tasty sounding flavors, and quite a few ridiculous ones as well. Luna joined Hermione in a sampling of flavors, and the two girls laughed at the faces the other made at such dubious treats as Fickle Tart Filigree, Caramel Pumpkin Firetwist and the grey-green treat simply titled 'Zoom', which caused both girls eyes to cross as they felt light headed and thought they'd float away.
Through it all, Harry prodded his single scoop of chocolate fudge. Normal ice cream would have long since turned to soup, but since it was charmed not to melt, all he did was sullenly move it around in his bowl.
Sirius had no sooner arrived than Harry stood, took Luna's hand and announced that he was taking her home and would be catching up on some forgotten homework for the rest of the day.
Lord Black had barely time to raise an eyebrow before Harry had practically pulled the blonde along, her only response was an apologetic shrug before the two were lost in the crowd.
Although Sirius asked a few questions, Hermione honestly had no idea what to tell her host.
Recounting how she found both Draco Malfoy and Harry awaiting her, she thought at first Harry had seemed to really like her dress. Then she had felt bad that they were ignoring Luna. Once her attention had been focused on the blonde, she had realized that the boys seemed to be talking in hushed, but urgent tones which were muted by a privacy spell. She turned to see that Harry and Draco had gotten into some sort of argument and after that the teen had been sullen and refused to speak to either of the witches.
Hermione thought she saw a flash of comprehension on Sirius's face, but he masked it quickly and then shrugged, proclaiming "He's a teen aged boy. Too many pretty girls probably broke him." He finished with an exaggerated wink and then offered his arm, declaring "There are still many hours of daylight left, and you've not been shopping properly in Diagon. So, Miss Granger, may I have the honor of accompanying you on your first tour of our wizarding equivalent of a shopping mall?"
. . .
After several hours of shopping, during which she made Sirius teach her the 'muscle soothing' charm he used on their aching feet, the two arrived back at Grimmauld.
Hermione ran upstairs to drop off her bag and check on her familiar. It felt odd for her to think of him that way so easily, and yet it was quite natural as well.
Crookshanks, for his part, was immediately full of rumbles when she walked into her room.
On her bed she found a bag with "Magical Menagerie" printed in various animals for letters on the side. Propped against the bag was a short note.
"Hermione,
Thanks for a lovely day while it lasted. I thought you might need a few things for Crookshanks, so Harry and I got you and him a late Christmas present. Or two. Some presents. And food, and also some kind of soap that doesn't smell very good but the man behind the counter said you'll want it when he gets too warm in the summer so I hope it works and doesn't make your familiar stink.
Your friend I hope,
Luna"
Shaking her head at the odd, but very nice young witch, she realized that while she may have lost Harry's interest, at least his girlfriend was a nice person.
It took her about ten minutes to remove everything from the bag. 'One or two, indeed!' She mused as she looked gazed upon the over twenty items that the blonde witch had purchased for her familiar.
Half a dozen toys, eight kinds of treats, two books and several items that she vaguely thought were grooming tools, or maybe more toys?
Then she turned to her own shopping bags. Removing her own trove of various books, clothing, study aides, spell books, colored inks, a comfort-glide quill handle and a dictionary of magical terms for muggles, Hermione felt truly spoiled.
Sirius's explanation of "Harry doesn't let me buy him anything. He wants to be so self-sufficient, I think it's got something to do with how his uncle raised him. Now that he's with me he has access to his vault, and his father left him enough funds to care for his needs. So let me play doting parent, even if it is by proxy?"
This little speech had left her all the more confused about the dark haired boy's personality. But Sirius did get his way, and she had to admit it was wonderful to be able to have some frivolous items, even if most of them were also functional.
. . .
Around an hour later Hermione was just finishing rearranging her packed supplies into her trunk when she felt the slight vibrations through her slippers.
Knowing that this meant that Harry was back to blowing things up made the young witch frown with a mixture of frustration and confusion. 'Just what is wrong with that boy?'
With a resolute nod to herself, Hermione drew a house-coat on to ward against the chill – she was heading to the basement.
The young witch had quickly made her way down the two flights of stairs to the basement and then down the hall to the practice room she'd only been in once herself.
Her cheeks colored briefly in remembered embarrassment. Regardless of Tonks's reassurances, she knew that her own skills with a wand were nothing to brag about, certainly not when dueling.
Edging to the darkened doorway, she was gratified to find it unlocked. However, now that she had slipped the door open, what she witnessed made her feel all the more pathetic.
Harry was moving quickly, running parallel to the far left wall. He seemed to be going through some form of casting drill and he was moving with both grace and speed that astounded the young witch. He sprinted and dodged, tumbled and crouched, sprang to his feet and was off running again, all the while his wand was a blur of motion.
Colorless streaks were the only indication that he was casting any spells at all, yet a series of target dummies were being sliced, blasted and even knocked end for end. Although he seemed to be casting only the same three spells over and over, they were each quite effective.
The dummies kept replenishing, each sending a steady stream of curses that appeared like slightly sparkling red streaks. While some of the angry looking hexes came close, none of them landed upon the panting, grunting and profusely sweating young wizard.
Then all of the dummies fell over at once.
At first Hermione's jaw fell open in shock. 'What spell could possibly have done that?' she wondered, even as she realized that Harry had stumbled to a stop. The look on his face as he glanced around betrayed his obvious confusion.
The teen's didn't have long to have their shared confusion cleared as Kreacher quickly popped into the room a short distance in front of the panting wizard.
The ancient elf's voice was much more refined than Hermione had remembered it, yet his tone still had an element of reproach as he addressed Harry. "Lord Black is saying you are to stop. Your Lord is saying you will hurt yourself. You will stop so not to disobey your Lord." The authority with which the diminutive fellow finished his statement made both teens blink in surprise.
Harry recovered more quickly, he slipped his wand into his wrist holster and rested his hands on his hips. He was still breathing heavily as he gave his one word reply, "Alright."
The servant seemed to peer up at the wizard for a moment, as if considering Harry's response, and then he popped away.
The temperamental young man that had so confused Hermione over the last few days stood like that for a few moments, then he seemed to tense up. Suddenly the door closed abruptly, the rough wood actually shoving the witch away as it slammed.
She scampered up the stairs to her room and did not come down for supper, though Dobby brought her a sandwich and her favorite bottled water without being asked. That thoughtfulness only added to the mystery that was Harry Potter.
. . .
Hours later Hermione found herself standing outside the young wizards door. She had to apologize, she knew she was wrong to spy upon him. Worse, she had a feeling that if she didn't clear the air soon, his attitude would only worsen.
She had first set out to knock upon his door, but he did not answer, so she searched the house.
He wasn't in the kitchen, the library or the back yard.
She even braved another trip down stairs, this time with her wand lit to prevent any misunderstanding.
The door was unlocked, but the room was empty.
In short, without going upstairs to the living quarters of the remaining refugees, Hermione had to conclude that the boy was either holed up in his room or not in the house at all. If he was in his room, he was still refusing to answer the door.
Shoulders slumped, she returned to her room.
Curling up with Crookshanks turned out to be a mixed blessing. The feline provided a much appreciated cuddle, his warm purrs motoring through her body and soothing her nerves.
However, that same cuddly orange hybrid was a constant reminder of Harry's generosity and thoughtfulness. As she had been putting away the gifts for Crookshank, she had found the receipt in the empty bag. The whole thing was charged to the Potter account. The total was no small sum, even for a well-to-do young man like Harry Potter.
With familiar determination her practical side took charge and put the mysteries – and turmoil – that defined the green eyed boy out of her mind. Harry Potter would still be there in the coming weeks, she would figure him out, or she wouldn't. The emotionally drained young woman resolved to get a good nights rest and be ready for the best night of her life.
Little did she know that in less than twenty four hours her current troubles would seem like childish nonsense.
.o0o.
Many thanks to my wife for continuing as my Beta, the story would not be posted without her help and advice.
A great big Jhappi to my sis, Thirst4light, who has resumed helping check over and give advice on Jean.
Recommended reading: Five Fish of Truth by Muggle Jane - honestly I wish I'd have seen it before Christmas, no knock on Epitaph, but I could have saved that for later ;) Plus, it's got that first kiss you've been waiting for!
Once again I am blessed with the deluge of reviews of Chapter 18, thanks to Luna de Papel, vyoom, brighteyes2889, pawsrule, lavanyalabelle, flaming-amber, Tellur, Queengi, arabellagrace, KSpringer, SmolderingJade, ladygoddess8, robst, erbkaiser and Chantilly's Mom.
The pace has slowed a bit, and for that I would apologize were it not for the sheer volume of what I hope are important events transpiring in the life of our favorite bushy-haired witch.
The New Years Eve chapter is fully outlined, once it is filled in and reviewed by my expert staff I will have it to you!
. . .
Blessings,
Majerus