In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 14: Prince
Monday morning Harry sat on the bed in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey came over.
"I wanted to see you Friday," Madam Pomfrey said.
"Didn't nag hard enough," Harry said, sarcastically.
"How do you feel?" Madam Pomfrey asked.
"A bit sore," Harry said.
"I heard about that marathon you ran," Madam Pomfrey said, "What were you thinking? I told you to take it easy, yet, here you go, determined to break everything before it has a chance to finish healing properly."
"I didn't mean to—just kinda happened." Harry protested.
Madam Pomfrey ran her wand over him. Harry stood and bent over. Her wand poked and prodded.
"I wish you were my only problematic patient," Madam Pomfrey said, "Life is short enough as it is, why do you have to be so determined to make it even shorter?"
"Talk to that jerk who killed my folks and tried to murder me when I was one," Harry said, "Get him to cut it out, and just then, I might be able to relax."
"Everything working for your girlfriend?" Madam Pomfrey asked.
"Yes!" Harry exclaimed as the first bell tolled.
"Get dressed, go to class," Madam Pomfrey said.
Harry reached for the socks on the bed, began to dress. Harry loathed the tie, made him feel like he was being strangled, unless he kept it loose, which he put on last. He grabbed his bookbag, left the Hospital Wing. Harry consulted his schedule, listing Professor Sprout. He made his way down to the greenhouse.
"You're late Potter!" Seamus exclaimed.
"Just in time," Harry said as the bell tolled.
"You know, there are other ways to take out stress," Neville said.
"He's Lording it over us," Ernie Macmillan said.
"What's going on?" Harry asked Hermione.
"You, or somebody looking just like you, picked a fight with Neville and Colin," Hermione whispered to Harry.
"Blimey! What? When?" Harry exclaimed.
"Middle of the day, Saturday," Hermione replied.
"They were both knocked unconscious," Ron said.
"I was running a marathon!" Harry seethed. He suddenly understood Professor Dumbledore's questioning.
"We saw the pictures," Hermione said.
"I hadn't a clue what Rita Skeeter was doing there!" Harry said.
"Don't worry, it didn't make the front page," Ron said.
"Really?" Harry asked.
"More like pages six through eleven," Hermione said, "Including a centerfold."
"Congratulations," Ron said, "I think you'll be a favorite pinup."
"Thank you for that assessment," Harry grumbled.
"Good morning," Professor Sprout said, "Please hand in your essays."
Toward the end of that Herbology lesson, Neville had the shears in his hand, nipped at the stem.
"Ow!" Neville quipped.
Neville pulled back a bloodied finger.
"Why'd you do that Potter?" Seamus yelled at Harry.
"Do what?" Harry replied.
"Ignore it," Ron said to Harry, "They're baiting you."
"Why'd you do it?" Seamus demanded, as he stepped close to Harry, "First you beat him senseless now you're using him as a guinea pig?"
"I didn't—" Harry said.
"Tired of your lies," Seamus said.
SMACK!
Seamus' fist recoiled from the left side of Harry's jaw.
"Hey!" Ron said as he shoved Seamus away.
"You're in on it too!" Seamus said.
"Stop it," Dean said, "I don't want to have to take points."
"Like those matter," Seamus said.
"Forget it," Harry said to Seamus.
"I can't," Seamus said, "How much are you going to pay them off?"
"I was running—it wasn't me!" Harry snapped, "Stop blaming me."
"Can't fool me with some enthusiastic fan," Seamus said.
"Use your head," Harry seethed.
SMACK!
"Twenty points!" Dean snapped as Seamus' withdrew his fist from Harry's side ribs.
"He's got you too?" Seamus asked Dean.
"You're the one doing the hitting," Dean retorted.
"Shove it," Ron said to Seamus.
Dean, Ernie, and Neville worked Seamus away from Harry.
"I'd rather run that marathon, again, than put up with this," Harry said.
"Keep that down," Ron said, "They sense something weird is happening with you, with you not being around, it gets noticed."
"Really?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, really," Ron said, "I feign ignorance when asked, but they're not buying it."
"Thank you," Harry replied.
"You do get noticed," Hermione said, "Whether you're here or not."
"I confess, we missed ya too," Ron said, "Nice pictures."
"Thanks Ron," Harry snapped.
"They were nice," Hermione said.
"Glad you approve!" Harry said, "You only had all summer—you didn't, by chance, get another package?"
"No," Ron said, "Still, it made me appreciate you better."
They kept on working to the end of the double lesson.
"Have a nice day," Professor Sprout announced.
"Yeah, right," Malfoy sneered as he left first; Crabbe and Goyle followed.
Neville's shoelaces tied themselves together, right before he began to walk. Neville tripped, hit his nose against the door's edge.
"Why'd you do that?" Seamus demanded of Harry.
"Not his fault," Neville said, holding his bloodied nose.
"What'd he feed you?" Seamus asked Neville.
They left the greenhouse, started up the stairs from the ground to the third floor. Parvati, who was in the lead, halted, her foot stuck in a step.
"Relax it!" Seamus said.
They all gasps as Parvati's robes, clothes, vanished, leaving her starkers. Nearly everybody stopped to study her. Seamus went past her, turned around and stopped.
"Seamus!" Parvati snapped.
"Somebody's getting hard," Seamus said.
"Stop it!" Hermione said, coming around, with most of the others.
"How much did Potter pay you?" Parvati asked Hermione.
"Nice," Ernie said, "Can you stay like that?"
"Just needs a bit of a shave," Seamus said.
"Your bookbag!" Padma snapped.
Parvati moved her bookbag, it hid her crotch, but the bosoms were still there.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you Potter?" Seamus asked.
"I've got a girlfriend who wants me to strip her!" Harry said, "I don't need this. Here." Harry pulled his cloak from his bookbag, handed it to Parvati.
"I don't need—" Parvati said as she refused Harry's cloak.
"Here," Padma said as she handed hers over.
"Thank you, no gentleman here," Parvati said as she wrapped Padma's cloak over her.
Padma helped Parvati out of the false step. The rest of them continued up the stairs.
"Sorry Potter," Seamus said, "I'll forgive you—if you teach me that spell you just used."
"It wasn't me," Harry said.
"Be careful Seamus," Ernie said, "He'll use it on you next, though I'd expect he practiced it on Weasley."
"Potter's likely right," Seamus said, "He wouldn't do it to Parvati, likely wants to jump Weasley's bones instead."
Harry glared.
"Lets stay back, just a bit," Ron said to Harry.
Hermione, Ron, and Harry loitered a moment, let the rest disappear down the third floor corridors, including Parvati and Padma.
"Is it getting this bad?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Hermione said.
"Sorry, didn't realize the insults—nice not dealing with them at home," Harry said.
"I can manage," Ron said, "I grew up with five older brothers, so I learned."
"Lets go," Harry said.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione continued up the steps.
After Defense against the Dark Arts, Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined the others leaving the classroom.
"I'll meet you at lunch," Hermione said, she went into the third floor girls' lavatory.
Hermione entered a cubicle when she heard the other door open, footsteps. Hermione bolted the door. She recognized the voices.
"They've even been doing it in their common room," Hannah Abbott said, "Ernie said so."
"What that slut sees in them, I don't know," Susan Bones said, "She'll get on her hands and knees, beg."
"I feel sorry for the others," Megan Jones said, "That Potter—it's like he owns Gryffindor and the castle."
Hermione stayed in her stall, she needed to go, but she didn't wish to make a sound.
"So stuck up, the lot of them, so spoiled," Hannah Abbot said, "Even heard that they intend to use their fellow housemates as guinea pigs, to test new spells, new incantations—that's why Parvati was so embarrassed. Can you believe the nerve, undressing her like that?"
"Likely won't be the last time," Megan Jones said, "I'm glad I'm a Hufflepuff!"
Flush! Flush! Flush!
"You got that right!" Hannah Abbot said.
"Glad," Susan Bones replied.
Cubicle doors moved, sinks poured.
"Think I'll let them others stay with us," Hannah Abbot said, "Let them escape Potter."
The lavatory door opened, closed, as the footsteps led them away. Hermione lowered her trousers and panties, sat on the toilet.
"Hustle! Hustle!" Ron shouted from his broom at Natalie MacDonald.
Natalie flew. Justin Prewett took his bat, bludgeoned the Bludger, it hit Natalie and the Quaffle fell from her grip. Ginny flew beneath, caught the Quaffle, and ran it through the goal posts.
"Weasley!" Oliver Wood shouted as he entered the Quidditch Pitch, "Now!" His eyes were on Ron.
Harry came down along with Ron.
"Good," Oliver Wood said, "Potter, which days have you booked the field for?"
"Um…" Harry muttered.
"I figured as much," Oliver Wood said, "I just heard a complaint from Roger Davies, being unable to schedule the field. I checked the calendar, would it surprise you Potter that the field was reserved in your name?"
"Harry wouldn't personally reserve it," Ron said, "Talk to our team secretary."
"Secretary?" Oliver Wood said, "I didn't realize that we needed secretaries, who's your team secretary?"
"What's going on?" Harry asked Oliver Wood.
"Were you aware of what your team captain did?" Oliver Wood said, "He signed up for every day until the Quidditch final."
"It's not just me," Ron said.
"Seems familiar," Harry said to Oliver Wood.
"Sure, I signed up for as much as I could," Oliver Wood said, "I don't recall going through my entire team's roster as I signed up. Today, it's been booked under you, Potter. Tomorrow is under Colin Creevey, Ginny Weasley for Wednesday, Ron Weasley, all throughout the school year."
Harry laughed.
"It's not funny Potter," Oliver Wood said.
"Yes it is," Harry said, "I'll leave this to you."
Ginny came back down.
"I did it for the team," Ron said.
"Every day not listed under you will be stricken, opened back up to the other three teams," Oliver Wood said, "If you wish to haggle with the other team captains, that needs to be ran by me. Understood?"
"And those my name?" Harry said, "Those should be kept too."
"You've been on the team long enough to know this wasn't right," Oliver said
"You used to be on the Gryffindor team," Ron said.
"I am an instructor at Hogwarts," Oliver Wood said, "I cannot play favorites. If getting your fair share of practice time seems unreasonable, you can resign or forfeit the entire season. Sorry, that's my final word."
"Yeah," Ron said, begrudgingly.
Oliver Wood left.
"You could've backed me up better!" Ron said.
"Wood's just mad because he didn't think of it," Harry said.
Ron's frown dissipated, a bit.
"I told you it wasn't going to work," Ginny said to Ron.
They returned to practicing.
Harry landed in Gia's bedroom, with the strap of his bookbag over his shoulder, the bag hung to the side. He walked over, stored his wand in Hedwig's perch, put an owl treat in her dish. He left the bedroom, went down the stairs, took the hard right, crossed the living room, another right, and entered the dining room. He walked along the table, pulled a chair out, put the bag on the table, and sat on the chair. He brought out the Quill, ink jar, parchment, and began to work on his Transfiguration essay.
"That's a funny way to write," Ant said, coming into the dining room.
It took Harry a moment to realize she was referring to the quill.
"It's the way my school does it," Harry said.
"You could just use a pen," Ant said.
"No, they want it by quill," Harry said.
"Bit quaint," Kristen said, coming into the dining room, "However, that's what was used before the ballpoint pen was invented. It's does encourage good penmanship. Maybe I should have you teach my department, some of their scribbles is downright horrible to have to decipher. I've considered mandating they use the typewriter, but that's not exactly practical on the beat."
"Typewriter, that'd cause a riot," Harry bemused. He imagined turning in his Potions essay, typed. Though he wondered about feeding a roll of parchment into the device.
"Andrea, you had something you were going say to him," Kristen said, "Remember?"
"Yeah," Ant got a bit more somber, "Did you really get Gia the pill?"
"Birth control," Harry said.
"Andrea!" Kristen snapped.
"I…I'm sorry I took your debit card," Ant said, "Won't happen again."
"You can't use it anyways," Harry said.
"It acted weird," Ant said.
"It kept you from using it," Richard said as he entered.
"I'm glad to hear that you've made the decision to be responsible," Kristen said to Harry, "Too many don't." She went into the kitchen.
Yip! Growl!
"Cody! Snuffles!" Ant shouted, she rushed into the living room.
Gia came through the door. Richard went into the kitchen. Gia sat on the chair just to Harry's left. Harry studied her curves. She leaned over, kissed him.
"So, how was it today?" Gia asked.
"Stupid stuff," Harry said, "Get this, while I was running that marathon, somebody at school dressed up as me—my normal me, beat up a couple of others."
"I saw the pictures in the newspaper," Kristen said, "You were running in London, how far away is your school from there?"
"It's a ways," Harry said, "But it didn't persuade my schoolmates who assumed the London Harry was somebody else dressing up as me."
"There wasn't much to dress up," Kristen said.
"I know," Harry said, "According to them, I'd rather be beating up my housemates than running . As Hermione puts it, I think with my todger!"
"Good advice," Gia said.
"A simple explanation and apprehending the real culprit should help," Kristen said, "Did you tell them you were in London?"
"It's a boarding school," Harry said, "I'm kinda the only one allowed to commute—I don't want to spoil that. Fortunately, Professor Dumbledore—the Headmaster, believes me."
"If I know the agency assigned to the case, I can send a letter," Kristen said as she opened the refrigerator
"I don't think that'd be possible," Harry said, "Bit reclusive, like to handle things internally."
"Don't mess it up," Kristen said as she felt into the refrigerator, "Bollocks—it's like an oven in here."
Kristen pulled a half bottle of milk, poured it into the sink, it was curdled.
"Definitely done for," Richard said, pulling out some celery stalks.
"Just because you don't like that doesn't automatically mean it's bad," Kristen said, "Dinner…about an hour away."
Kristen went to the phone, dialed.
"Hello…King's pizza?" Kristen asked into the phone.
Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall for dinner.
"Where's the Prince of Gryffindor?" Malfoy asked.
"Buzz off Malfoy," Ron said.
"Potter Lording over everything yet couldn't be bothered to show up for dinner?" Malfoy asked.
"It's Potter's stomach," Seamus retorted while glaring at Malfoy.
"Where's your Lord's throne?" Malfoy asked, "The lavatory?"
Laughter and chuckles.
"Your type isn't wanted," Seamus said to Malfoy.
"I'd be more careful of Lord Potter, if I were you," Malfoy sneered.
"Shove it," Ron said, "Go to your table, and we'll head to ours. If Harry's not hungry, then he's not hungry, which means more for the rest of us."
Malfoy retreated back to the Slytherin Table.
"Nice going Weasley," Seamus said as Ron sat.
"Yeah, whatever," Ron said.
"Where is Potter?" Seamus asked Ron.
"You know my reply," Ron said, "Why bother asking?"
Ron reached for the crusted deep fried chicken.
"They're going to keep asking," Hermione said.
"Hu—humph!" Ron managed between bites.
Harry landed Wednesday morning on his bed at Hogwarts; he climbed out. He put his bookbag down, with his wand and his Portkey. Harry restored the curtains back to their closed state when the door opened. Harry did not have enough time to reach for his trunk when the crowd, led by Colin, swarmed into the dormitory. Colin grabbed an arm. Neville grabbed a leg. Dean took the another leg, while Ginny took Harry's other arm. They all lifted Harry off the ground.
"Whoa—whoa!" Harry exclaimed.
Quickly, Harry was carried down the steps, into the common room, where most of the house was gathered. On the table, a porcelain throne, a toilet, and Harry was sat down onto the seat. Colin grabbed his camera, took pictures.
"All hail Lord Potter, Prince of Gryffindor!" yelled Seamus.
"I'm not even dressed!" Harry complained.
"Nothing's too immodest," Dean said, "Our emperor needs no clothes."
"You did it anyways?" Ron asked, coming down from the girls' dormitories.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Make Malfoy eat his words," Ron said.
"Come on, time for breakfast!" Seamus exclaimed.
Justin and Paul Prewett brought one sock each to Harry's feet. The Gryffindors dressed him.
"That's quite enough," Harry said.
"Nonsense," Dean said, whistling.
Several fourth year boys brought over a chair bound to two long poles. Harry was moved to sit in the chair. Each of the fourth years grunted as they lifted the poles, lifted Harry, so the chair was suspended between them. Neville carried Harry's bookbag as Harry left the common room, on the chair.
"I can walk," Harry offered.
"Royalty don't walk," Dean replied, "They get chauffeured everywhere."
Harry was carried down the steps, to the Great Hall.
"Blimey!" Malfoy exclaimed, "What the fuck is this?"
"Be kind to the Prince of Gryffindor," Dean said.
"Prince?!" Malfoy said, "I've never heard of such rubbish in my life!"
Harry was lowered at the head of the table, the chair moved into position. Ron sat to Harry's right; Hermione sat to Ron's right.
"It's not funny," Harry said.
"Yes it is," Ron said, "Are you going to eat or do I need to suggest they help?"
"Alright! Alright!" Harry grumbled. He took a sausage patty.
Ron vacuumed several platters into his mouth, before he let out a large burp.
BURP! BURP!
"Ready for class?" Seamus asked.
"Yes," Harry said.
Seamus whistled, the fourth years came over, lifted the chair and carried Harry out of the Great Hall. They went down the steps into the dungeon. Professor Snape glared as Harry was brought into the classroom. Harry let out a brief cackle. Colin's camera kept taking pictures.
"Twenty five points from Gryffindor," Professor Snape said.
The fourth years quickly took the chair, and its poles, away; Colin left. Quickly, everybody else got to work on their potions.
At the end of the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Professor Tonks escorted Harry into the small office. Professor Lupin was there, brewing a bit of tea.
"Hello Harry," Professor Lupin said, "Thought we'd have a little chat, over lunch, sound alright?"
"Yeah, sure," Harry said.
Professor Tonks brought over a platter of sandwiches, set them onto the small round table. Harry sat, waited for the tea to cool. Professor Lupin sat to the other side.
"I understand that Severus Snape was not pleased this morning," Professor Lupin said.
"Not my fault—" Harry started.
"It's always your fault when it comes to Snape," Professor Lupin said, "It's simply because you are you, so it's not really your fault, even if Snape makes it out to be."
"The others—they decided I was a prince!" Harry said.
"The chair was a nice touch," Professor Lupin said.
"Have to ask Mr. Creevey if he took any pictures," Professor Tonks said.
"Colin loves taking those pictures," Harry said.
"Yes, I must take a bit of the blame Harry," Professor Lupin said, "You seemed to be getting off to a bad start within Gryffindor this year. I suggested to Miss. Weasley that a little festivity might get it back to normal. Evidently, she got carried away."
"It was…different," Harry said.
"I imagine it was," Professor Lupin said.
"Enough small talk," Professor Tonks said.
"Yes," Professor Lupin said, "I understand that you're still having difficulty in Professor Tonks' lessons. Specifically, the inability to cast particular curses."
"I'm not a killer!" Harry said, the rage of it coming to him, "That's what you're trying to turn me into! I'd rather flunk."
"If it were any other student, we'd let them make that choice," Professor Lupin said, "I know you wish to be ordinary, but you are different. Specifically, Lord Voldemort."
"Professor Dumbledore will have a way," Harry said.
"The Headmaster is convinced that your path and Lord Voldemort's will cross again," Professor Lupin said, "And that you will have to cast that decisive blow. How do are you going to deal with Lord Voldemort? A tickling charm?"
"No," Harry stated, though he wondered whether a tickling charm could work.
"We can always hope that Lord Voldemort stubs his toe and it becomes a lethal injury, but that is highly unlikely," Professor Lupin said, "We are not turning you into a monster. Lord Voldemort is not going to relent until either you are dead or you kill him. Albus Dumbledore doesn't see any other way around it. So class, or no class, you need to be able to use the Killing Curse, because I don't want to be reading that you've been killed by Lord Voldemort."
"It's admirable, Harry, to never want to use the Killing Curse," Professor Tonks said, "Many Aurors never have to either. But it's good to know it, to be able to use it, whether it's to save your own neck, or those that you love, or those you're sworn to protect."
"I swore, to the bodies of your parents, to look out after you," Professor Lupin said, "I can't always be there to stop an attack, but I can teach you to help yourself, and that's what Professor Tonks is trying to do."
"I can't cast it," Harry said, "I can cast anything else, but sorry, I can't cast that one."
"Then you best hope that fits of laughter kills him," Professor Lupin said, "Eat."
"I'm not hungry," Harry said, standing, "Thank you."
"We really do care about you, remember that," Professor Lupin said.
Harry grabbed his bookbag, left the office. Harry's mind was ablaze, he didn't want to become a killer, a murderer, under any circumstance; he needed another voice, and he decided to go and visit Hagrid. Harry went down the stairs, walked along the first floor corridor.
"Seize him!" Ernie barked, pointed from the Hospital Wing, at Harry.
"What?!" Harry stammered.
Ernie came over, eyes glaring at Harry.
"Seamus thought it was silly when Ginny suggested it, to mend the wounds," Ernie said, "This is how you repay, attempted murder?"
"What?!" Harry stammered.
"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said as she came out of the Hospital Wing.
"Expel him!" Ernie spat.
"That is for me to decide," Professor McGonagall said, "Mr. Potter, please follow."
Harry followed Professor McGonagall to her office. Ernie loitered outside as she closed the door.
"I don't understand," Harry said.
"Where have you been?" Professor McGonagall asked as she stood behind her desk. Her thin mouth bore no hint of smiling.
"I was just with Professor Lupin and Tonks," Harry said.
"Mr. Seamus Finnigan was beaten on the fifth floor," Professor McGonagall said, "I would've been fatal if it weren't for Mr. Ernie Macmillan intervening. Professor Dumbledore has already interviewed, and Mr. Macmillan was sincere in identifying you as the perpetrator."
"I didn't—" Harry said, "Professor Tonks and Lupin talked to me after class. Will Seamus be alright?"
"Most likely," Professor McGonagall said, "Madam Pomfrey stated that another kick or two to the neck would have finished him off. You understand our predicament?"
"Yes," Harry said, "But I didn't do it."
"Fortunately Professor Dumbledore is of the same opinion," Professor McGonagall said, "I strongly advise you refrain from scandalous behavior — that includes those rumors that I have been hearing regarding certain indiscretions."
Thursday afternoon, Harry escorted Gia down the steps from the dormitory into the common room. Gia had her nice slacks and one of Ron's school jumpers. Harry was in his Quidditch robes and carried his Firebolt in his left hand.
"You brought her here?" Hermione asked.
"She wanted to see us practice," Harry said.
"Come along Hermione," Ron said as he entered the common room, "Please?"
Hermione sighed, gathered her books, stuffed her bag, and followed. The four of them left the castle, went down to the Quidditch Pitch.
"Keep Gia safe," Harry said to Hermione.
Hermione escorted Gia up into the tall stands, sat.
"They do this a lot, right?" Gia asked.
"Every chance they can get, or take," Hermione said. She recalled Ginny's description of Oliver Wood's rant.
"How dangerous can it get?" Gia asked.
"Practice? Not too bad," Hermione said, "It's the matches to watch out for."
Gia and Hermione watched, kept their eyes on Ron and Harry flying around.
"Next?" Gia asked as Harry landed on the stands after the practice.
"This way," Ron said, landing next to Hermione.
Ron and Harry led the way down the stairs; Gia and Hermione followed.
"Where are we heading?" Hermione asked.
"It's a surprise," Harry said.
Hermione wondered about this, what sort of Quidditch would be involved, until they approached Hagrid's hut.
"This?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, this," Harry said, as he walked up to the steps.
Knock! Knock!
"Hello arry," Hagrid said as he opened the door, "This way."
Harry and Ron leaned their Firebolts against the wall after they entered. Hermione and Gia sat on the one bench, while Harry and Ron sat on the other.
"ust a inute," Hagrid said, back turned, "Baked it myself."
Hagrid turned around, a cake with six candles.
"Happy Birthday!" Ron started, joined in with Hagrid and Harry, "Sixteen!"[1]
"Make a wish," Harry said.
"Already done," Ron said, "Her wish has come true."
Hermione snorted, before she huffed, blew out the candles.
"I remember you younguns," Hagrid said, "Showed up years ago, yeh grown up."
"You can say that," Harry said.
Hermione stared at him and Ron. Both were innocent boys that first train ride, a pile of sweets between them, boys who were initially hesitant but have grown to love her, unconditionally. Maybe she had become too harsh on them with their antics. Their only desire was a genuine smile on her face, and they typically succeeded, even though she had learned years earlier to not let that smile actually show, most of the time.
"Here yeh go," Hagrid said, handing a plate to her with a slice of the cake.
Harry took a plate, nibbled at it. Hermione tried hers, and kinda agreed with Harry, fed hers to Fang when Hagrid wasn't looking. Harry snorted, smiled at her. Ron ate about half, while Gia abstained.
"Just a moment," Ron said.
Ron moved to kneel on the floor, he bent over. Ron grabbed two packages from beneath the bench.
"Get mine," Harry said.
"Already did," Ron replied.
Ron handed the two packages to Hermione. Hermione opened the first one, from Harry; it was a model of a galloping horse, with two people on it, Ron on the back, Hermione in front of him.
"Thank you," Hermione said.
"And mine," Ron said.
Hermione opened the other package. It was a long slender clip of silver metal, the front clip smaller than the back, and a red and gold tassel from its root.
"It's…?" Hermione asked.
"A bookmark," Ron said, "Better than an ordinary bookmark, it'll remember where it was, so you can use it in other books.
"Interesting," Hermione said.
"You're always losing your place otherwise," Ron said, "This'll help."
"Thank you," Hermione said.
They heard the bell from the castle.
"Don't be late for supper," Hagrid said, "Congratulations, ermione."
Harry and Ron grabbed their Firebolts, they left.
"That was nice of you," Hermione said.
"You're important, we're not letting that slip by," Ron said.
"Obviously," Hermione said.
They headed for the Castle.
Friday afternoon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way up to Gryffindor Tower after their Transfiguration class and entered the sixth year boys' dormitory.
"In a hurry?" Professor Dumbledore asked, he was sitting on the chair to Harry's study desk.
"Another hike," Harry said, "Ron and Hermione too."
"Stay safe," Professor Dumbledore.
"They're with me," Harry said, "You don't come up here often."
"Mr. Potter," Professor Dumbledore said, his hand shook on his cane, "Two first year Gryffindors, … Mr. Ruff and Mr. Alison, … were found beaten in a … desolate part of sixth floor—"
"We didn't!" Harry protested under Professor Dumbledore's penetrating gaze.
"Honestly!" Ron protested, "We haven't a clue."
"Stay vigilant," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Hike, here we come!" Harry said, wand aimed at the Portkey. Ron and Hermione held on.
It was late Sunday evening when Kurt brought the station wagon to a halt in Noigate, but not at 26 Oak.
"You'll be alright?" Jen asked.
"Yeah, my parents are here," Hermione said, "Nothing to worry."
Ron grabbed his backpack as he and Hermione got out.
"See you tomorrow Harry," Ron said.
"Yeah," Harry said.
Ron and Hermione approached the house, giggling and splashing could be heard from the back. They walked around.
"Oh my—" Hermione started to exclaim.
Both Linda and Charles Granger were in the hot tub, not just starkers, but banging.
"Hermione!" Linda exclaimed.
Charles and Linda quickly withdrew to the safety of the bubbles.
"Hi Mum, Dad," Hermione said.
"You're supposed to be at school!" Charles said.
"We got a pass," Hermione said, "Mind if I use my bed, here, for the night, head back tomorrow?"
"Sure, you don't need permission," Linda said, "You already have it."
"What have you been doing with my daughter?" Charles asked, his finger pointed at Ron.
"Only the best," Ron said, smile on his face, "Nothing less for her."
"I don't trust him," Charles said.
"Mind?" Hermione asked, stepping into the hot tub.
Ron put the backpack down, stepped in himself.
"So, what were you up to?" Linda asked.
"A little hike," Ron said, "A classmate of Harry's girlfriend set it up, seemed a bit more relaxing than hanging out at Hogwarts."
"Your studies?" Charles asked.
"Hermione's well ahead," Ron said, "I'll be making the rest of it up tomorrow."
"It pays to get be ahead," Hermione said.
"I wish you would've called to at least warn us," Linda said.
"Harry suggested it on the drive back," Ron said, "She couldn't."
"It is nice to see you both," Linda said, "If you excuse me, I must get ready for bed.'
Linda got up, entered the house. Ron got up, grabbed the backpack and followed, leaving Hermione in the hot tub.
"You needed something else?" Linda asked.
"Yeah," Ron said, "Mind if I check your library again?"
"I did get you that book you had requested," Linda said, "Was planning to wait until you came for the winter break."
"I'm here now," Ron said.
Ron entered the library, Linda followed. Linda went through the shelves, pulled it out, handed it over. Ron opened Eating Disorders and Psychiatry, glanced.
"Thanks," Ron said.
Ron grabbed a book cover, he recognized it as one of the ones he had stashed before, and the cover added itself. Ron waved his hand, the cover altered the title to Dietary Habits of Effective Quidditch Players.
"You could let Hermione help you," Linda said.
"She's too busy looking for ways to defeat You–Know–Who," Ron said, "This is my project. Thank you."
Ron grabbed the book, his backpack, went out, up the stairs, down the corridor, and entered the bedroom on the end, the one filled with miniature horses. Ron laid on the bed, opened the book, and began to read. Hermione came in a half hour later.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.
"Like you said, had to catch up," Ron said as he closed the book.
"Of course," Hermione said as she read the cover.
"Yeah," Ron said, "It was a good idea, coming here."
"As much as the House Elfs try," Hermione said as she sat, "There's nothing quite like your own bed."
"I know," Ron grumbled.
"I don't mind sharing," Hermione said.
"Thanks for trying," Ron said, "Back to school tomorrow, think we could talk Dumbledore into letting us do this more often? Hogwarts is nice and all, but I can see why Harry likes his commute."
"We saw a lot of that," Hermione said.
Hermione pointed her finger, the lights went out, and she pulled the covers over them. Ron turned to his side as Hermione began to snuggle into his chest, sought his hands out, to pull them onto her, to hold her, as she went to sleep.
[1]: This story predated JKR's revelation to Hermione's age; thus, for this story, she's sixteen, not seventeen.
Date: Thu Jan 4 09:53:35 2024