Romeo, Romeo…
Harry stared blankly at the brown-haired witch sitting across the table from him, uncaring that his spoonful of oatmeal was dripping slowly back into his bowl. "What?" he finally managed to say.
Hermione sighed and pushed her hair away from her face. "I said, I won't be able to help you rehearse your lines anymore," she repeated. "And, really Harry, push your glasses up. You know how annoying that is."
He obliged absently, trying to make sense of his friend's words. It was breakfast on Sunday morning, usually the final peaceful moments of the weekend before Hermione started her never-ending crusade to have Harry and Ron actually complete the week's homework. It seemed this week, that reprieve would continue longer for than he'd dreamed. "But, why?" he asked.
Hermione gave a frustrated groan and dropped her head to the table. "Half of my stage crew quit!" she exclaimed. "No reason, no notice," she glanced up to meet Harry's gaze as she continued, "just 'We're done' and then gone." She groaned again and sat up to put her chin in her hand, stabbing at her scrambled eggs. "What's worse, the only ones that are left are a bunch of Slytherins, and I'm sure at least half of them weren't in attendance last week. You can imagine that the lot of them are less than co-operative."
Harry nodded and chanced a small bite at his oatmeal. Hermione barely noticed as she continued her ranting. "It wouldn't be so bad if this wasn't the first play ever, but we have nothing to work with! We make all the props, all the costumes and sure, some of it you can do with magic, but if there's a spell that can sew clothes, and I'm sure there is, then none of the teachers are forthcoming." She dropped her fork and pushed the plate away in disgust, as if all her troubles were the personal fault of the eggs. "What I wouldn't do for some talking mice right now."
Harry smiled at the Cinderella reference and shifted over to let Ron, late as usual claim a seat on the bench. "They have those, you know," he commented and started loading his plate with his daily array of breakfast foods. Harry moved his arm closer to his own plate to avoid the syrup that sloshed a bit over the side. "Bet Hagrid would like one of them," he finished, not caring that Hermione was giving him a look that clearly said he was a moron.
"Doubtful," Hermione said, shaking her head. "They don't breathe fire or try to cause bodily harm. Utterly uninteresting." Harry's laugh brought her attention back to him and she picked up the conversation as though Ron had never interrupted. "Any way, I just won't have the time to help you anymore. I'm really sorry, Harry."
He knew she genuinely felt bad, but he really didn't blame her. "It's not your fault," Harry's sighed. "What should I do? I can't learn them on my own. I'll look like an idiot."
Ron swallowed his food a little too quickly to point out, "Like on Thursday?"
"Ugh!" Harry moaned, dropping his spoon and giving up the pretense of eating altogether. "Does the whole school know?"
Ron nodded enthusiastically, "Like you could keep a secret in Gryffindor for long. As soon as Lavender finds out, it's all over!" Hermione's sad nod of confirmation had Harry dropping his head back to the table.
"I suggest that you find the best person in the play and ask for their help," Hermione advised as she collected her books and stood to leave. "Now, if you boys will excuse me, I've got a balcony to build." Tossing one last 'finish that Potions essay' over her shoulder, Hermione disappeared in the growing crowd leaving the great hall.
"This is awesome!" Ron exclaimed, not caring that crumbs spewed from his mouth. "The first time in three years that Hermione won't be here to bug us about school work!" He sighed contentedly. "This is going to be the best day, I can tell. I'm going back to sleep 'til lunch, then I'm going to eat lunch, then I'm going with Fred and George. They're setting off some dung bombs in the Slytherin common room," he whispered conspiratorially. "Can you imagine Malfoy's face when that stench hits him?" Ron laughed, his face growing red with excitement. "How are you going to celebrate, Harry?"
Harry stood and shook Ron's crumbs from his robe. "I'm going to write that essay," he said and laughed as his friend's shocked expression. He wandered slowly through the halls, letting the bustle of the other students calm his nerves a bit. Eventually, he made his way back to his dorm, where, true to his word, Ron had already fallen asleep. Fully intending to work on the essay, Harry sat comfortably on his bed and spread his books and parchment around him.
Quill in hand, he stared at the scroll. And stared some more. Harry tossed the quill away in frustration and flopped back against his pillows, reaching to the nightstand to grab his script. If he couldn't work without Hermione pestering him, the least he could do was study enough that he wasn't a complete laughingstock at tomorrow's rehearsal.
That worked as well as his potions essay had. He stared at the page blankly, aware that there were words flowing across it but unable to tell one from the other. He alternated between the two projects but didn't get any work done on either. When Ron woke up, so precisely at noon that Harry thought he must have some sort of inner alarm, Harry welcomed the break.
The great hall wasn't very full when they arrived, but the lines of students trickling through the wide doors promised a full house for lunch. Ron ate his food with as much enthusiasm as usual but Harry sighed, dropping his chin in his hand and poking his meat half-heartedly with his fork. Hermione plopped down suddenly across from him and Harry looked up. It didn't take a psychic to know his friend was not happy. "You okay, 'Mione?" Ron asked, around a mouthful of his roll.
Hermione gave a frustrated sigh that surprised more than a few of their lunch mates. "Harry, I am so sorry for every time I got on you for hating Slytherins so much. You were right, I was wrong. They have no redeeming qualities!" she exclaimed, slicing her hand through the air for good measure.
Ron and Harry stared at the witch gape-mouthed as she grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice and took a deep swig. The look on her face said she wished it were something stronger. "Did you just say I was right?" Harry asked, a touch of smugness in his voice.
"Did you just say you were wrong?" Ron pointed out gleefully. "I'm going to savor this memory forever," he sighed, smiling.
She slammed her cup on the table with an audible clunk. "I spent half the morning working on that darn balcony. I finally got it to stand straight! I take five minutes to pop to the little witch's room and when I came back, the room was a disaster!" She dug her hands into her hair. "Harry, they set it on fire. On fire! The entire balcony was a smoldering pile of burnt wood!" Hermione threw her hands and gave a frustrated grunt. "So I asked what happened."
She looked at the two boys expectantly. "What'd they say?" Harry finally asked, taking a small bite of his toast.
"They didn't!" Hermione exclaimed. "The whole lot of them just burst out laughing and left the room, leaning on each other to keep their hairy frames upright and leaving me to clean up their mess!" Without another word, Hermione dug into her food with more gusto than usual, washing it down with another cup of juice. Then she left, leaving the hall at breakneck speed.
Harry figured she wanted to get back before the Slytherins could do any more damage. He sighed and brushed his hair back from his face. "Can you believe that?" he asked Ron.
"I know," his red-headed friend replied. "I don't even eat that fast. I don't think she took a breath the whole time." There was just the faintest hint of admiration in Ron's voice. He elbowed Harry's side none-too-gently. "And she didn't even ask about our homework."
Harry grinned and shook his head. He looked up in time to see Lisa Turpin standing from the Ravenclaw table, a group of her friends a few feet away, obviously waiting for her. He excused himself from Ron, though he doubted his friend noticed. The twins had come to collect him for their prank on the Slytherins. He was probably even more excited for the payback he'd be giving them.
"Lisa," Harry called as soon as he was close enough and immediately blushed when her group turned to face him as a whole. "Er…can I talk to you?" he stammered.
Lisa nodded. "Sure." She started towards him, then looked over her shoulder. Her friends had moved forward as well. She raised a brow at Harry.
"Alone," he confirmed and blushed again when the Ravenclaw group gave him knowing looks. Lisa giggled and followed Harry. He looked around, unsure, when they'd passed through the wide doors. He didn't really want to talk to her out here. It was embarrassing enough as it was without gaining an audience.
Lisa seemed to understand and grabbed his arm, leading Harry down the hall. They came to a classroom, empty at the moment but much used if the scuffed desks and unusual lack of dust was any indication. Even so, Harry had never been in the room before. He examined the scrolls hanging from the walls, filled with unfamiliar symbols. "What room is this?" he asked.
"Ancient Runes," Lisa replied, tossing her robe on a chair and hopping to sit on a desk. "Actually, I'm glad you asked to talk to me. There's something I needed to ask you."
"Yeah?" Harry said and leaned back against the teacher's desk. "What?"
Lisa twisted her hair around her finger and bit her lip. Harry held back a laugh. He doubted he'd ever again get the chance to see a Ravenclaw so unsure of what to say. "Well," she started slowly, "there's this guy." Harry's brows rose and she blushed. "He's truly amazing, and honest and sweet," she sighed. Harry made an encouraging noise, the same noise he made for Ginny when she took it in her head to ramble on about her current boyfriend. "We met last year and we've been dating ever since. This summer was the best summer of my life!" Lisa sighed happily, as if remembering.
Harry nodded, unsure of where this conversation was going. She laughed and waved a hand at him. "I know you don't care so I'll get point. He was a seventh year." She waited for that information to sink in. Harry watched the girl waiting for her to continue. "So he doesn't come here anymore," she prompted.
"Okay," Harry said. "I get it. Well, no, I don't. What does that have to do with me?"
Lisa twisted her hands together. "Nothing, actually, but…well, you see, he works down in Hogsmeade now. I only get to see him once a month. It's awful!" Tears filled her eyes and Harry jumped up quickly, rushing over to pat her back comfortingly. She took a deep breath and continued. "So I found a way to get to see him, but I can't be gone without a reason."
"A way? To Hogsmeade?" Harry asked.
Lisa nodded. "Uh-huh. A passage that goes straight into the village."
Harry knew then what she was going to ask, as surely as he knew exactly which passage she was talking about. "You want me to tell everybody we're together on the nights that you visit him," he guessed.
"Oh, would you?" Lisa confirmed. "That would be fantastic!" Harry didn't pause to think before nodding yes. The girl squealed and jumped up, throwing a hug around him that nearly knocked Harry from his feet. "Thank you, thank you, thank you soooooo much! Oh, Harry you don't know what this means to me!"
"I think I have an idea," he laughed and she stepped back.
"Really, Harry, thank you," she continued. "Anything you need, let me know! Now, what is your schedule like?" He looked at her blankly. "So I know when I can go," she explained.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's important." He thought for a moment. "Well, Mondays and Thursdays are rehearsal. Quidditch on Wednesdays and Fridays, games on Saturdays. And Hermione makes us do homework on Sundays."
"So Tuesdays?" Lisa concluded. She frowned a little. "Well, not as often as I'd like but you're a busy guy so I guess it's to be expected. Right, Tuesdays. Thanks so much, Harry," she said again. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?"
Harry shook his head with a smile. "Not off the top of my head."
She grinned at him and started to leave. Lisa had barely made it to the door, when it dawned on Harry that there was something she could do, besides the whole reason for his asking her here. "Actually," he said and she turned to face him with a smile. "Could you help me on this potions essay?" he asked.
"The one for next week?" she said, her brows lifted. "I haven't even started on that one yet."
Harry fought to keep his jaw from dropping. This girl would get along with Hermione so well. "Er, no. The one due this week."
"Oh," she said, then, "Oh, sure." Harry could tell it never occurred to the Ravenclaw to put homework off for so long. She'd probably finished her essay as Hermione had, the day it was assigned. "No problem. Meet me in the library in twenty minutes," she finished. "I've got to pick up my papers. I have some other assignments I can work on while I help you."
"Really," Harry asked. "Thanks!" She left the room first. Harry shrugged as he headed to the Gryffindor dorm. At least today wouldn't be a total wash. Even if he hadn't gotten the tutor he needed for the play, he'd get a good mark on the paper.
Ron was there to clap him on the back in congratulations when Harry returned to his dorm later that evening. "Way to go, Harry," the red-head said and Harry could catch the faintest whiff of dungbomb odor still clinging to him.
"Thanks," Harry responded, almost out of habit. It wasn't until he'd tossed his books to the table next to his bed and started changing into his pajamas when he'd realized that he hadn't done anything worth congratulating. "Er…for what?" he asked, pulling the drawstring on his pants tighter. He seemed to be losing weight again. Hermione would start to worry if he wasn't careful.
Ron was having trouble with his own shirt. His head seemed unwilling to leave the striped garment. Harry stifled a laugh when his friend's muffled voice came to him. "On your new girlfriend."
"Oh," Harry nodded and threw his shirt off. He stuck his arms in the sleeves of his night shirt and pulled it over his head. "Wait, what?" he asked, Ron's words finally coming to him. "Girlfriend?" he said, blushing.
Ron nodded and kicked his clothes under his bed, then started digging around in his trunk, muttering under his breath about some new quidditch magazine. "Yeah. Lavender saw you and that Turpin girl together in the library. Said you were sitting real close and whispering all romantic-like." Ron stood, his prize in hand and flopped down on his bed. He gave Harry a mock glare over the top before turning his attention to the pages. "You could have mentioned that you liked the girl. She's cute for a Ravenclaw," he commented. "And of course, all the girls are excited."
Harry rubbed tiredly at the bridge of his nose. He could feel the headache forming. Tomorrow was not going to be a peaceful day. "Why would they be?" he finally asked, slipping under his covers and pulling his worn copy of Quidditch Through the Ages from beneath his pillow.
"Dunno," Ron mumbled distractedly. "Think it had something to do with the play and her being Juliet." Harry groaned to himself. The mention of the play reminded him that he was still in trouble as far as an acting tutor was concerned. Tomorrow would definitely not be fun. At least he wouldn't have to lie, which he did horribly, yet another testament to his lack of acting skill. When people started wondering where Lisa kept disappearing to, they'd draw their own conclusions, thanks to Lavender's big mouth.
A/N: You know, I thought I'd mention, in case no one's noticed, that I didn't make Lisa Turpin up. Really, she's in one of the books. One mention, by McGonagall in Harry's first year. At the sorting hat, heh. That's all. Thanks to brionyjae, Hatori-chan, Inky74, DanuMarie, SwarmOfFangirls, NemesisMuse, and BladeMaxwell-GoddessofDeath for the reviews. I love you guys! (Even though I don't show it by taking forever to update. So sorry! Finals, you know?)