Author's Notes: Here's the girl you've been waiting for…you'll see Cho in this chapter! Hooray!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of My Sassy Girl nor Harry Potter.
The First Night
"Cheers, mateys!" Harry Potter gulped deeply from his mug of mulled mead and scrunched his face at its potency
"Come on, lads, we can do another!" Seamus Finnigan sloshed the jug and refilled everyone's cups. Dean Thomas groaned and shoveled some chicken pie into his mouth.
"Not for me," Ron Weasley said firmly, standing and pulling on his cloak.
"What? You leaving already, Ronnie?!" Seamus tried to pull him back down to his seat. "Come on, mate, it's only 9!"
"Oy, geroff him Seamus." Neville pried Seamus' grip off Ron. "You know he's got Hermione waiting on him at home." He grinned mischievously. "Don't deprive him of his loving just cuz you're not getting any."
Seamus scowled and faked a punch at Neville, who smirked and took another swig of mead. Harry settled back into his seat and patted Ron's back goodbye. Ron grinned at his mates and left Three Broomsticks. The other four young men watched his retreating back until the heavy pub door swung shut. Dean whistled. "Married life seems to be good to him, eh?"
The four chuckled gaily and waved Madame Rosmerta over to order another tankard of mead. Harry sighed in satisfaction, running a hand through his messy jet black hair and leaning back comfortably in his seat. His eyes lit up when the shapely Rosmerta dropped the jug on their table and strutted away, heels clicking behind her. "Oy come on, boys, here we go again!" The four clattered their mugs in the noisy pub, then pause on hearing a buzzing vibrating noise. Harry looked apologetic as he lifted his vibrating wand and flicked his wrist and lifted the tip of the wand to his ear. "Hello? OH, hello Mrs. Weasley." He cleared his throat and shushed the other guys. "Ahh…I'm out with some mates…no, Ron's gone home already. What? Do I really have to? She always squeezes my cheeks…I feel like a little kid! Okay okay!" He winced as the older woman's tone turned into a scolding. "Yes, Mrs. Weasley, I'm leaving now to visit her."
"That's a good boy, Harry, dear," the boys heard Mrs. Weasley say fondly. "You know Martha likes to see you." Her voice softened. "You know it's the anniversary of her son's passing. She gets sad around this time…it will comfort her to see you. You know you remind her of him."
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. "I don't look anything like him!"
"Well, she also said that she has a nice girl in mind for you to meet…isn't that exciting at least?"
"Ugh! No thanks, I know the type of girls she likes…not my type." Harry shook his head and shuddered.
"Yes, well, Harry dear, I won't keep you then. Go hail the Knight Bus now, you know she lives in the Muggle District…can't apparate there, remember?"
Harry sighed. "Bloody hell. I mean, yes I remember! Thanks Mrs. Weasley! Goodbye now!" He quickly lowered the wand and flicked it before she could reprimand him. He sighed and straightened his glasses. "Gotta go, mates." Pulling on his cloak, he waved goodbye to his friends, who were already having another round of drinks.
The pub door slammed shut behind him as he stepped into the cool brisk night. Grumbling to himself, he shivered slightly and glanced around. Despite the late hour, the streets of Hogsmeade were still bustling with people. Harry ruffled his hair and stuck out his wand to hail the Knight Bus. After a few seconds, he heard the familiar banging noise of its arrival. Glancing to his right, he saw the purple double decker flying towards him, jerking rockily from side to side. That was when he saw a young witch standing about ten feet away from him. Her black cloak hung loosely around her shoulders, tracing a circle on the ground with her right foot, and Harry noticed her jeans had become unfolded and the bottoms were covered in dirt. Her head was drooped, rolling slightly, causing her sheet of shiny long black hair to billow eerily in the wind. As Harry observed her odd behavior, he realized that she was standing right in the Knight Bus' path! Cursing under his breath, Harry remembered what a lousy driver Ernie was and sprung forward towards the oblivious witch. Reaching out, he pulled her out of harm's way just before the Knight Bus skidded to a rough brake right in front of them.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conduct-ey there, Ern, look it's 'arry Potter! Been a long time since we seen you, 'arry, 'choo been up to?" The pimply young wizard beamed down at Harry excitedly.
Harry nodded politely at Stan, then glanced over at the witch. He was surprised to see her staring right back at him with a vacant expression. Her soft brown eyes looked up into his, strangely out of focus. Her hair fell in messy wisps over her smooth white cheek, and her face was a slightly flushed shade of pink. Feeling a hint of annoyance that she did not look remotely grateful for him saving her life, Harry was further puzzled when her expression turned to a frown. She did not seem to like his staring, and she slowly opened her pouting mouth, only to emit a loud hiccup. Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust. This witch was completely smashed.
Harry turned away from the drunken girl and stepped onto the bus, handing Stan some coins. He noted with some surprise how crowded the bus was tonight, and selected the last vacant bed to sit down on. Stan stared down at the witch and cleared his throat, and smiled cheekily. "Ahem, 'ello there miss. Name's Stan, 'choo doing out there, eh? We can take ya anywhere ya'd like, right there, Ern?" The driver grunted in response, and Stan nodded eagerly down at the witch.
Harry could not help laughing snidely as the witch fumbled drowsily through her purse for gold, then stumbled shakily up the steps. Stan grinned and tried to help her, but she flung his hand off her arm rudely and snapped angrily (but with a definite slur), "Get off me, you smelly arse!" She hiccupped again, turning away from the crestfallen conductor and staggered drunkenly to the window across from Harry. "Blooo-dy hiccup! hell…" she muttered, tipping from side to side. She leaned back against the wall of the bus, then slid roughly onto her bottom. Harry frowned in distaste, and settled back into his cot as the bus doors squeaked shut and the vehicle lurched into motion.
So I've long since shed my shyness. When I see a girl who is exactly my type, I never hesitate to hit on her. Life's short, you know? Bloody hell, what is life without taking some risks? I learned that, if anything, from the constant danger I was in back in the day. So, this witch here is pretty cute, I must admit, okay, just by looking at her, she is my type. But I'm not into her. Why? Psh! Drunk witches turn me off!