Fic: Harry Potter and Love’s Trespasser (Part III)
Title: Harry Potter and Love’s Trespasser (3/5)
Rating: All Ages
Category: Fluffy with a bit of humor
Pairing: Harry/Hermione
Word Count: 1705
Summary: YES. I have written a seventh year, Harry Potter and the Blank fic!! It will be chock-full of action, magical and literary innovations, new foul and dark creatures, as well as a thorough account of the horcruxes, how to destroy them AND a completely unique take on “the power he knows not”!!!!!
Oh, wait... Huh. It’s actually just some fluff. Seventh year, Harry and Hermione are just friends, a first-year develops a crush on Hermione, fun ensues.
Notes: Um. There's actually not a lot of Harry/Hermione interaction in this part (and by not a lot, I mean none). I had originally planned it differently, but it seemed best to end it where I did. Hopefully you all won't be too disappointed. And thanks again to ladybluestar!
PART I | PART II
"I'm telling you, Ron, there's just something about that kid that's not right," Harry heatedly asserted to his best friend while they walked across the Quidditch pitch (following a friendly scrimmage between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams). Ron let out a dramatic sigh which Harry promptly pretended to not notice. "Seriously not right," Harry continued, warming to his topic as he detailed all the times in the week since Fiona's unfortunate wand "incident" that Michael had interfered in their lives.
"Interfered?" Ron asked in an incredulous tone that Harry found more than slightly annoying. "Okay, Harry, I'm with you on the whole 'Michael's an annoying little bugger' train of thought. But when you start tossing around words like 'interfering,' and what was the other one? Oh yeah. Menacing!" Ron let out a snort before continuing. "I mean, come on, Harry. He's just a little kid. He might be completely mad about Hermione, but he's not, you know, mad mad. He just has a harmless crush."
"HARMLESS?" Harry exclaimed. "Harmless? I've had to seek medical attention because of that kid. He's hardly harmless."
At that, Ron rolled his eyes and groaned. "Medical help? Please. You just needed some headache potion from Pomfrey from when you fell."
"You mean when I fell after he pushed me off the bench! I could have had a concussion!" Harry shot back, but at least he had the good graces to flush a bit as he said it. He knew he was sounding a bit over-the-top in his complaints about Michael, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. For the past week, he felt like he never got to see Hermione without her "little brother" in tow, except for when they were in the occasional class together. And that very day, she had been unable to come out to see the Quidditch scrimmage because she'd been too busy helping Michael with his Transfiguration homework.
So, Harry was angry. And being a bit foolish about his anger. Which was confusing him because he knew he was being foolish but couldn't seem to stop himself. And that seemed to only make him more irritable. For which Michael was a convenient target. Though, he had to admit that a seventeen-year-old targeting an eleven-year-old was not exactly good form. Harry flushed again.
Oh well, he thought to himself. Poor, little, curly-headed Michael got enough coddling from everyone else, so in the end, it all balanced out.
Harry nodded to himself, pleased with how comforting logic could be. "Anyways, Ron, you're missing the point!" he exclaimed as they crossed the courtyard and entered the castle.
"Enlighten me."
"He's obsessed with her! He's with her all the time, complimenting her and holding her hand and staring at her when he sits next to her! We've got to do something before it gets worse. I mean, what's it going to take, Ron? Finding Michael's secret love cupboard, filled with pictures of Hermione and lit candles?"
"Whoa, back up a bit," Ron finally interjected. "Let's not get crazy. I mean, I know you've got cupboard issues and all and I don’t mean to be insensitive-"
"Ron! This is not about me!" Harry interrupted.
Ron just threw a carefully considered look at Harry. "Are you sure about that? I was talking to Luna the other day about an article in the Quibbler. It was all about how the Bulgarians have infiltrated the English Quidditch team by using Legilimency and how-"
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Harry shouted, his frustration painfully obvious as he forced Ron to a halt in the middle of the corridor.
"Oh, yeah. Anyways, the point is that Luna told me that there are always lots of ways to look at a particular situation, that the story's always bigger than it first looks. And, like the Bulgarian Legilimens-see? I did have a point-there are more people involved than you might think."
"More people involved? Ron, I think you're the one who needs to see Pomfrey, you're making no sense at all. This is about one person, and that person is MICHAEL. Michael and how he's keeping Hermione away from me. Are you even listening to me?"
"Shh," Ron murmured as his head cocked to the side in concentration. "Is someone crying?"
"What?" Harry snapped, but forced himself to listen. Sure enough, he heard crying coming from one of the classrooms up the hallway. With a couple of questioning nods followed by some resigned sighs, they made their way to the room and pushed the already ajar door completely open. Only to find a miserable and confused looking Quintus standing next to a weeping Fiona.
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. As familiar as he was with Fiona's crying after the whole wand situation, he was unprepared to see his "little sister" so dejected. Fiona was normally so full of energy and everything about her seemed so… big. Even when she cried, it was dramatic and full of wailing.
But this time, she looked like the tiny first-year that she was. She was quietly sobbing, her face buried in her hands and turned away from everyone else, her body visibly shrinking into the chair she sat in.
"Oh, Ron and Harry, thank god you're here," Quintus sighed, relief showing all over his face. "I didn't know, I swear! The two of us were in here, cleaning the classroom for a detention we got today from Flitwick, and everything was fine," he hastened to reassure them as he hurried to Ron's side and Harry made his way to Fiona. "We were just teasing each other a little; she said that my parents were probably glad that their fifth child had finally left them to go to Hogwarts, and then I said…" Quintus paused and swallowed, and Harry could see Fiona tense. "And then I said that her parents probably couldn't wait to get rid of her, that they were probably counting down the days."
Quintus had finished his sentence in a whispered rush before bravely looking Ron and Harry in the face. "I didn't know about her parents, I swear!" the short boy continued, the truth obvious in his earnest face. "I didn't know they had died," he finished, his voice filled with misery.
"It's okay, Quintus," Harry calmly replied. "Ron, maybe you could take Quintus and find Flitwick and let him know what's going on? Maybe the professor will be willing to find something else they can do for their detention?"
After Ron nodded and left with Quintus, Harry looked at Fiona and sighed. He hadn't known her parents were dead, either. He actually didn't know all that much about her, he realized. He pushed aside the gnawing guilt and sat on the chair next to her and simply waited until she stopped crying.
When it seemed that she had spent all her tears, she finally looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to be such a blubberer," she quietly said, her cheeks wet and her eyes red.
After he had reassured her, she tried to smile, but Harry could see how wretched she was. "Why didn't you tell me about your parents? Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked.
Fiona looked away for a moment before speaking.
Harry could tell how difficult it was for her, and for the first time he saw a very different Fiona. She told him how her parents had died a year earlier in an accident and how she had been living with her aunt and uncle since.
"They're not bad people," she hastened to add when Harry asked about them. "It's just, I don't know. I guess I miss them. My parents. They loved me, you know? I could tell they loved me, I could feel it. My mum would tuck me in every night and my dad would sing silly songs to me. I know I can be a bit much, but my mum and dad, they always encouraged me and laughed at my jokes. I love them so much and I hate it that they left me, even though I know they didn't want to leave me."
And at that, she began to cry again, quiet tears that rolled down her cheeks.
Harry put his arm around her shoulder with less awkwardness than he would have expected and asked her for more stories about her parents. He asked her for more of her good memories until she was no longer crying. She still had tears on her face, but Harry was relieved that she was able to smile through them.
"Look, Fiona," Harry began, "I can't say that I know exactly how you feel, but I do know what it's like to miss your parents. And I know that your real big brother is off in Italy, but I'm your big brother here at Hogwarts, okay? So just remember that you'll always have family here."
At that, Fiona gave him a real smile and threw her arms about his neck. And for the first time, Harry hugged her back. "So, what do you say?" he asked, getting up from the chair and holding out his hand to help her up. "How 'bout you go to the girls' room and freshen up? And then I suppose we should go see Professor Flitwick about your detention." At Fiona's alarmed face, Harry scrambled for something to keep the tears at bay. "Then maybe you might want to have dinner?" he quickly asked.
Fiona nodded and then gave him one last hug before rushing off to the washroom.
Afterwards, as the two of them walked into the Great Hall for supper, he thought back to his conversation with Ron. Maybe Luna was right; maybe there always was more to a situation-or a person-than you might think. He smiled ruefully. And maybe Lupin had known was he was doing all along, matching him with Fiona. And maybe he had been overly harsh about Michael.
At that, he looked over to where the blond boy was sitting next to Hermione as she gave him a bite of her pumpkin pie off of her fork. Then again, Harry thought, maybe not.
PART IV
Rating: All Ages
Category: Fluffy with a bit of humor
Pairing: Harry/Hermione
Word Count: 1705
Summary: YES. I have written a seventh year, Harry Potter and the Blank fic!! It will be chock-full of action, magical and literary innovations, new foul and dark creatures, as well as a thorough account of the horcruxes, how to destroy them AND a completely unique take on “the power he knows not”!!!!!
Oh, wait... Huh. It’s actually just some fluff. Seventh year, Harry and Hermione are just friends, a first-year develops a crush on Hermione, fun ensues.
Notes: Um. There's actually not a lot of Harry/Hermione interaction in this part (and by not a lot, I mean none). I had originally planned it differently, but it seemed best to end it where I did. Hopefully you all won't be too disappointed. And thanks again to ladybluestar!
PART I | PART II
"I'm telling you, Ron, there's just something about that kid that's not right," Harry heatedly asserted to his best friend while they walked across the Quidditch pitch (following a friendly scrimmage between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams). Ron let out a dramatic sigh which Harry promptly pretended to not notice. "Seriously not right," Harry continued, warming to his topic as he detailed all the times in the week since Fiona's unfortunate wand "incident" that Michael had interfered in their lives.
"Interfered?" Ron asked in an incredulous tone that Harry found more than slightly annoying. "Okay, Harry, I'm with you on the whole 'Michael's an annoying little bugger' train of thought. But when you start tossing around words like 'interfering,' and what was the other one? Oh yeah. Menacing!" Ron let out a snort before continuing. "I mean, come on, Harry. He's just a little kid. He might be completely mad about Hermione, but he's not, you know, mad mad. He just has a harmless crush."
"HARMLESS?" Harry exclaimed. "Harmless? I've had to seek medical attention because of that kid. He's hardly harmless."
At that, Ron rolled his eyes and groaned. "Medical help? Please. You just needed some headache potion from Pomfrey from when you fell."
"You mean when I fell after he pushed me off the bench! I could have had a concussion!" Harry shot back, but at least he had the good graces to flush a bit as he said it. He knew he was sounding a bit over-the-top in his complaints about Michael, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. For the past week, he felt like he never got to see Hermione without her "little brother" in tow, except for when they were in the occasional class together. And that very day, she had been unable to come out to see the Quidditch scrimmage because she'd been too busy helping Michael with his Transfiguration homework.
So, Harry was angry. And being a bit foolish about his anger. Which was confusing him because he knew he was being foolish but couldn't seem to stop himself. And that seemed to only make him more irritable. For which Michael was a convenient target. Though, he had to admit that a seventeen-year-old targeting an eleven-year-old was not exactly good form. Harry flushed again.
Oh well, he thought to himself. Poor, little, curly-headed Michael got enough coddling from everyone else, so in the end, it all balanced out.
Harry nodded to himself, pleased with how comforting logic could be. "Anyways, Ron, you're missing the point!" he exclaimed as they crossed the courtyard and entered the castle.
"Enlighten me."
"He's obsessed with her! He's with her all the time, complimenting her and holding her hand and staring at her when he sits next to her! We've got to do something before it gets worse. I mean, what's it going to take, Ron? Finding Michael's secret love cupboard, filled with pictures of Hermione and lit candles?"
"Whoa, back up a bit," Ron finally interjected. "Let's not get crazy. I mean, I know you've got cupboard issues and all and I don’t mean to be insensitive-"
"Ron! This is not about me!" Harry interrupted.
Ron just threw a carefully considered look at Harry. "Are you sure about that? I was talking to Luna the other day about an article in the Quibbler. It was all about how the Bulgarians have infiltrated the English Quidditch team by using Legilimency and how-"
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Harry shouted, his frustration painfully obvious as he forced Ron to a halt in the middle of the corridor.
"Oh, yeah. Anyways, the point is that Luna told me that there are always lots of ways to look at a particular situation, that the story's always bigger than it first looks. And, like the Bulgarian Legilimens-see? I did have a point-there are more people involved than you might think."
"More people involved? Ron, I think you're the one who needs to see Pomfrey, you're making no sense at all. This is about one person, and that person is MICHAEL. Michael and how he's keeping Hermione away from me. Are you even listening to me?"
"Shh," Ron murmured as his head cocked to the side in concentration. "Is someone crying?"
"What?" Harry snapped, but forced himself to listen. Sure enough, he heard crying coming from one of the classrooms up the hallway. With a couple of questioning nods followed by some resigned sighs, they made their way to the room and pushed the already ajar door completely open. Only to find a miserable and confused looking Quintus standing next to a weeping Fiona.
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. As familiar as he was with Fiona's crying after the whole wand situation, he was unprepared to see his "little sister" so dejected. Fiona was normally so full of energy and everything about her seemed so… big. Even when she cried, it was dramatic and full of wailing.
But this time, she looked like the tiny first-year that she was. She was quietly sobbing, her face buried in her hands and turned away from everyone else, her body visibly shrinking into the chair she sat in.
"Oh, Ron and Harry, thank god you're here," Quintus sighed, relief showing all over his face. "I didn't know, I swear! The two of us were in here, cleaning the classroom for a detention we got today from Flitwick, and everything was fine," he hastened to reassure them as he hurried to Ron's side and Harry made his way to Fiona. "We were just teasing each other a little; she said that my parents were probably glad that their fifth child had finally left them to go to Hogwarts, and then I said…" Quintus paused and swallowed, and Harry could see Fiona tense. "And then I said that her parents probably couldn't wait to get rid of her, that they were probably counting down the days."
Quintus had finished his sentence in a whispered rush before bravely looking Ron and Harry in the face. "I didn't know about her parents, I swear!" the short boy continued, the truth obvious in his earnest face. "I didn't know they had died," he finished, his voice filled with misery.
"It's okay, Quintus," Harry calmly replied. "Ron, maybe you could take Quintus and find Flitwick and let him know what's going on? Maybe the professor will be willing to find something else they can do for their detention?"
After Ron nodded and left with Quintus, Harry looked at Fiona and sighed. He hadn't known her parents were dead, either. He actually didn't know all that much about her, he realized. He pushed aside the gnawing guilt and sat on the chair next to her and simply waited until she stopped crying.
When it seemed that she had spent all her tears, she finally looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to be such a blubberer," she quietly said, her cheeks wet and her eyes red.
After he had reassured her, she tried to smile, but Harry could see how wretched she was. "Why didn't you tell me about your parents? Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked.
Fiona looked away for a moment before speaking.
Harry could tell how difficult it was for her, and for the first time he saw a very different Fiona. She told him how her parents had died a year earlier in an accident and how she had been living with her aunt and uncle since.
"They're not bad people," she hastened to add when Harry asked about them. "It's just, I don't know. I guess I miss them. My parents. They loved me, you know? I could tell they loved me, I could feel it. My mum would tuck me in every night and my dad would sing silly songs to me. I know I can be a bit much, but my mum and dad, they always encouraged me and laughed at my jokes. I love them so much and I hate it that they left me, even though I know they didn't want to leave me."
And at that, she began to cry again, quiet tears that rolled down her cheeks.
Harry put his arm around her shoulder with less awkwardness than he would have expected and asked her for more stories about her parents. He asked her for more of her good memories until she was no longer crying. She still had tears on her face, but Harry was relieved that she was able to smile through them.
"Look, Fiona," Harry began, "I can't say that I know exactly how you feel, but I do know what it's like to miss your parents. And I know that your real big brother is off in Italy, but I'm your big brother here at Hogwarts, okay? So just remember that you'll always have family here."
At that, Fiona gave him a real smile and threw her arms about his neck. And for the first time, Harry hugged her back. "So, what do you say?" he asked, getting up from the chair and holding out his hand to help her up. "How 'bout you go to the girls' room and freshen up? And then I suppose we should go see Professor Flitwick about your detention." At Fiona's alarmed face, Harry scrambled for something to keep the tears at bay. "Then maybe you might want to have dinner?" he quickly asked.
Fiona nodded and then gave him one last hug before rushing off to the washroom.
Afterwards, as the two of them walked into the Great Hall for supper, he thought back to his conversation with Ron. Maybe Luna was right; maybe there always was more to a situation-or a person-than you might think. He smiled ruefully. And maybe Lupin had known was he was doing all along, matching him with Fiona. And maybe he had been overly harsh about Michael.
At that, he looked over to where the blond boy was sitting next to Hermione as she gave him a bite of her pumpkin pie off of her fork. Then again, Harry thought, maybe not.
PART IV