Fic: Harry Potter and Love’s Trespasser (Part I)
Title: Harry Potter and Love’s Trespasser (1/5)
Rating: All Ages
Category: Fluffy with some humor
Pairing: Harry/Hermione
Word Count: 2696
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: I saw this rather adorable "crush"challenge over at PK, and even though someone else had already started writing it, I really wanted to try my hand at it. It won’t meet all the requirements, but the main idea was too cute to pass up.
Just keep in mind, it’s seventh year, and I guess Voldermort was defeated. And everyone is just a-okay about it. Apparently, you can destroy the greatest evil of your time with no real physical or emotional repercussions.
OH! And thanks to ladybluestar for looking this over for me!! ♥
Harry gave Hermione and Ron a wide grin as the three of them settled along the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Ron grinned back and Harry could see Hermione’s eyes sparkle with happiness. The three of them were in excellent spirits, and no one could possibly blame them. After all, here they were, back at Hogwarts after having defeated Voldemort only weeks earlier. After getting some much needed rest, the three of them had owled McGonagall and (rather cheekily, Hermione had remarked) let her know to expect them on the Hogwarts Express.
Everyone had been thrilled with their decision to return. Mrs. Weasley couldn’t stop crying with joy that her youngest son would not be following in Fred and George’s footsteps. So much so, that she even bought him a new set of robes to finish his last year of school with. And with the news that Lupin would be once again teaching DADA and acting as the Head of House, Harry was certain that this last year at school would be the best ever.
Needless to say, not everyone was happy to see them return to school. While Blaise Zabini had given them a cold-almost imperious-nod in greeting, others in Slytherin audibly hissed at them as they took their seats in preparation of the Welcoming Feast.
“What a bunch of idiots,” Ron muttered, rolling his eyes. “You’d think they’d want to lie low a bit, bloody gits. After all, I don’t know if their parents can send them their monthly allowances from jail.”
But Harry couldn’t help but observe that Ron spoke with an almost impersonal dismissal of his former enemies, rather than the petulant anger he might have used in previous years. Ron would always be… well, Ron, but he had definitely matured. Hermione must have noticed as well, for she gave the redhead’s arm a quick squeeze as she smiled at Harry across the table.
And Hermione had changed as well, Harry noticed. Since Voldemort’s defeat, she had become more relaxed, more likely to laugh out loud. Not that she was giddy and giggly-she hadn’t suddenly turned into Lavender or Parvati-but it seemed that she didn’t have to be quite so serious all the time. Clearly, a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She also touched him and Ron constantly. She had never been an overly touchy-feely person before, but it was as if she now wanted to constantly remind herself that yes, they were still there. Happy and whole.
As the students in the Great Hall began to settle down, McGonagall stood up to welcome the returning students back and to introduce Susan Bones and Terry Boot as the new Head Boy and Girl. Harry watched Hermione closely during the announcement and leaned across the table a bit. “Are you okay with this?” he asked, concern in his voice. At Hermione’s perplexed look, he went on, “I mean about not being Head Girl. If we had told McGonagall earlier that we were coming back, that would be you.”
Hermione just smiled and put her hand over his, grasping it slightly. “No, Harry, I’m fine, honestly,” she replied, no false modesty forcing her to argue that she might not have been chosen as Head Girl. “I think I’ve had enough stress and responsibility to last me a while. Perhaps it’s really a blessing in disguise. I’m planning on enjoying this last year of school as much as possible,” she said with a brilliant smile.
Harry smiled back, and if he noticed that she didn’t remove her hand from his for the next few minutes or so, he certainly didn’t say anything about it.
As McGonagall signaled the beginning of the Sorting Ceremony, Ron let out an audible groan. “Good lord, look at all the little buggers! It’ll be forever before we get to eat!”
At that, Hermione gave Ron a slap on the shoulder and told him to act like a human being and not a slobbering animal. Harry just stifled his laughter, but he noticed that Ron was right: there were an unusually large number of first-years. The amount of time it took to go from “Abbot, Geoffrey” (to join his cousin in Hufflepuff) to “Yi, Janet” (to the claps of her new housemates in Gryffindor) seemed to last forever, and by the time McGonagall had finished introducing the new faculty and told them-borrowing Dumbledore’s phrase-to “tuck in,” Harry was sure people could hear his stomach growling.
At last the heaping platters of food appeared, and all the older Gryffindors stuffed themselves as they laughed and traded stories and anecdotes. As he looked over the table and waved at Lupin and Hagrid, Harry was sure he hadn’t enjoyed a Welcoming Feast more since his first year. By the time dinner was over (and even Ron was contentedly patting his belly) McGonagall stood up for some final words. He only listened with half an ear, as most of it was pretty standard stuff (Forbidden Forest bad, Filch had posted a new list of which products from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes were considered contraband, do not harass the Giant Squid, etc.), until she mentioned the uncommonly large number of first-years.
“Therefore,” she announced in her strangely crisp brogue, “your faculty has created a new program to help acclimate our newest students to these hallowed halls of learning. In each house, a first-year will be paired with a seventh-year student. The seventh-year student will act as a mentor to the first-year,” she continued loudly, silencing the groans that had broken out at various parts of the Great Hall with a stern look. “Each Head of House will decide how to match the students, and I am confident that this will be the start of a wonderful new Hogwarts tradition. And now! Please stand for the school song!”
As Harry sang the song (in a sort of cross between “La Cucaracha” and “Pop Goes the Weasel”) he glanced over at the group of first-years, and couldn’t help but grin as he saw the nervous awe on their faces. It was good to be back, and he couldn’t wait to see where the new year would take them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry sat in the chair by the fire, his jaw dropping lower and lower as he stared at the girl who was sitting on an ottoman inches away from him. How was it possible for a single human being to talk so much?
“I just can’t believe it, you know? I mean, I never would have thought when I got my Hogwarts letter that I would be meeting you, I mean, you’re Harry Potter, you know? But here I am, and you’re my mentor. Mentor sounds so stuffy, you know? I’m glad that Professor Lupin is calling it big and little brothers and sisters. Oh my god, Harry Potter’s my big brother! That’s so exciting, you know? I mean, I already have a big brother, but he’s in Venice, working as a mediwizard. That’s in Italy. I can’t believe it! First I’m sorted into Gryffindor and now Harry Potter is my big brother! It’s just so amazing, you know?”
Harry just stared at the blonde first-year for a full ten seconds before he realized that she had finally stopped talking. At what sounded suspiciously like laughter, he looked over to the sofa to see Hermione and Ron “coughing” as they tried to avoid looking at him. Harry narrowed his eyes. Their “little brothers” were noticeably calm and normal. Ron’s first-year was a short, easy-going boy from a village nearby Ottery St. Catchpole, and it seemed like they were discussing Quidditch. Harry couldn’t tell what Hermione and her first-year were talking about, but the blond boy was hanging on her every word with rapt attention. Why Lupin had paired him with this chatterbox was beyond him. She would have been perfect for Lavender. ‘Oh well,’ he thought to himself, ‘at least I only have one little sister to worry about.’ His eyes quickly darted to Seamus and Dean, who had both been assigned two first-years each.
“Uh… Fiona,” Harry began, realizing that his charge was looking at him expectantly, when she suddenly cut him off.
“Fifi,” she announced. At his bewildered look, she explained, “I go by Fifi. It’s more fun than ‘Fiona,’ you know?”
At that he could only wince. There was no way he was going to call anything human by the name of “Fifi.” He shook his head and tried again. “Uh, yeah. How about Fiona can be the special name that I call you?” Without waiting for an answer, he went on. “So, do you have any questions? You’ll get your schedule tomorrow from Professor Lupin at breakfast, so be sure to be there on time.” As Fiona took a deep breath, Harry soon realized his mistake. “ACTUALLY!” he almost shouted, causing more than a few heads to snap in his direction. “How about you save your questions till after you get your schedule? I’m sure you’re tired and want to settle in to your room and get to know your roommates.”
“Okay,” Fiona replied, scrambling to her feet before she threw her arms around Harry’s neck and squeezed. She didn’t seem to notice Harry’s choking sounds as she pulled away. “Have a good night!” she said brightly, bounding across the room before turning back to him. “This is going to be the best year ever, you know?” she exclaimed before she scampered up the stairs to the girls’ dorms.
Harry only had a moment to close his eyes, exhale and sink back into his chair before the laughter of his best friends reached his ears. He opened his eyes to see them making their way over to him, their own first-years also having gone up to their rooms. “Don’t rub it in,” he growled, but with a quirk to his lips.
“Are you kidding?” Ron asked as he plopped down onto the ottoman that Fiona had vacated. “I’ve just realized how much fun this year is going to be. Remind me to thank Lupin for your assignment.”
Harry laughed and threw a cushion at him as Hermione motioned for him to slide a little to the side of the chair so that she could wedge herself in beside him. Harry smiled at her and put his arm around her shoulders, glad that he was so comfortable with his best friend at his side. After the previous summer, they had been in some close quarters, to the point that they were very comfortable with each other’s personal space. “And what about you, Hermione?” he asked, looking down into her sparkling brown eyes. “How’s your little brother?”
“His name’s Michael, and he’s a Muggle-born, too. I think that’s why Remus matched us up together. He’s a little shy, but seems nice so far. To be honest, I think this is a rather nice program. I wish I had had something like it when I was a first year.”
Harry smiled at her and gave her shoulders a squeeze, remembering how rough her first month at Hogwarts had been for her.
Ron’s cheeks pinked a little as he also remembered, and then added, “My midget-Quintus-is not so bad, actually. He’s a Cannons fan.”
At that, Hermione snorted, and Harry fought a laugh. Leave it to Ron to boil it down to the really important information. Like their young charges, they also went to their respective beds soon afterwards, settling in for the night and for their last year at Hogwarts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry sighed as he looked at the schedule Lupin had handed him. Double Potions first thing after breakfast. True, he actually kind of liked Professor Slughorn, but potions still left a bad taste in his mouth. He sighed and looked over at Hermione as she pored over her own schedule, her lips pursed and her brows knit together. He smiled as he continued to watch her. She might have relaxed a bit since Voldemort’s defeat, but she was still Hermione, and woe to anyone who got between her and her schoolwork.
He was about to contemplate the way the sun streaming through the windows sort of made her hair shinier, when he was interrupted by about eighty pounds of girl suddenly squeezing him around the neck, and a loud “Good morning, big brother Harry!” shouted into his ear.
Harry tried to ignore the good-natured grins that broke out on his area of the long table, but knew that his face was a bit pink as he listened to Fiona (rather vocally) tell him about how wonderful her first night in Gryffindor tower was, how adorable all her new roommates were and how fabulous her first day in classes was going to be. After demanding to know where the Charms classroom was, she gave him another choke-hold of a hug and flounced out of the Great Hall with three other girls in tow.
Harry just stared after her a bit, bemused and with his mouth hanging slightly open, when he finally shook himself back to his surroundings. He looked across the table and saw that Ron was talking to Quintus, who was apparently asking some question about the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Though how the boy could understand a word Ron was saying around his mouthful of eggs and sausage, Harry had no idea.
But he had no time to ponder such deep questions before he found himself shoved rather rudely to the side. As he began cursing the strange precedent of being physically assaulted at breakfast that seemed to have developed, he turned to his side and found that Michael had rather forcefully insinuated himself on the bench between Harry and Hermione.
Harry fought the urge to scowl at an eleven-year-old boy, and had to content himself with chewing his toast rather vigorously. After all, Michael wouldn’t take his seat for that long; if judging by Fiona and Quintus, he would just touch base with his “big sister” and then be off.
But as he began to munch on his third piece of toast, Michael was still there, the boy’s focus completely on Hermione. Well, judging by the fact that Harry only saw the back of the blond boy’s head, and that the first-year practically ignored his roommates as they made their way to class. Ron only gave Harry a rather pointed glance at the boy followed by a comical eye-roll, and then he also left to walk with Ginny and Luna.
Soon, it was practically only the three of them left at the enormous table. Three people sitting rather close together, but one of the three having had nothing to say for the previous fifteen minutes. Harry was getting more than a little irritable at the situation and finally interrupted. “Hermione, I really think we should be getting to Potions. I know you don’t want to be late.”
At that, he finally got their attention. Hermione looked over at him with a bright smile, but Michael looked more than a bit annoyed. “Of course, Harry,” she replied with a wink as she got up from the table. “And you better get to Charms with the rest of your year,” she told Michael, throwing her heavy book bag’s strap over her shoulder.
“I don’t know where it is,” Michael replied, eliciting a silent groan from Harry. Good lord, what had the kid been pestering Hermione about for so long? Fiona might be a bit mad, but at least she had been quick about getting the relevant information and then going along her way.
“That’s okay,” Hermione told the boy with a smile as she ruffled his mop of blond hair. “We’ll take you on the way to our class.”
“Yeah,” Harry muttered to himself. “Because it’s so completely on the way to Potions.”
At that, Michael quickly grabbed her hand and they began to walk out of the Great Hall, with Harry bringing up the rear. A rather cranky Harry. A rather cranky Harry who only got for some reason crankier when he thought he saw Michael throw a satisfied smile at him over his shoulder.
PART II
Rating: All Ages
Category: Fluffy with some humor
Pairing: Harry/Hermione
Word Count: 2696
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: I saw this rather adorable "crush"challenge over at PK, and even though someone else had already started writing it, I really wanted to try my hand at it. It won’t meet all the requirements, but the main idea was too cute to pass up.
Just keep in mind, it’s seventh year, and I guess Voldermort was defeated. And everyone is just a-okay about it. Apparently, you can destroy the greatest evil of your time with no real physical or emotional repercussions.
OH! And thanks to ladybluestar for looking this over for me!! ♥
Harry gave Hermione and Ron a wide grin as the three of them settled along the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Ron grinned back and Harry could see Hermione’s eyes sparkle with happiness. The three of them were in excellent spirits, and no one could possibly blame them. After all, here they were, back at Hogwarts after having defeated Voldemort only weeks earlier. After getting some much needed rest, the three of them had owled McGonagall and (rather cheekily, Hermione had remarked) let her know to expect them on the Hogwarts Express.
Everyone had been thrilled with their decision to return. Mrs. Weasley couldn’t stop crying with joy that her youngest son would not be following in Fred and George’s footsteps. So much so, that she even bought him a new set of robes to finish his last year of school with. And with the news that Lupin would be once again teaching DADA and acting as the Head of House, Harry was certain that this last year at school would be the best ever.
Needless to say, not everyone was happy to see them return to school. While Blaise Zabini had given them a cold-almost imperious-nod in greeting, others in Slytherin audibly hissed at them as they took their seats in preparation of the Welcoming Feast.
“What a bunch of idiots,” Ron muttered, rolling his eyes. “You’d think they’d want to lie low a bit, bloody gits. After all, I don’t know if their parents can send them their monthly allowances from jail.”
But Harry couldn’t help but observe that Ron spoke with an almost impersonal dismissal of his former enemies, rather than the petulant anger he might have used in previous years. Ron would always be… well, Ron, but he had definitely matured. Hermione must have noticed as well, for she gave the redhead’s arm a quick squeeze as she smiled at Harry across the table.
And Hermione had changed as well, Harry noticed. Since Voldemort’s defeat, she had become more relaxed, more likely to laugh out loud. Not that she was giddy and giggly-she hadn’t suddenly turned into Lavender or Parvati-but it seemed that she didn’t have to be quite so serious all the time. Clearly, a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She also touched him and Ron constantly. She had never been an overly touchy-feely person before, but it was as if she now wanted to constantly remind herself that yes, they were still there. Happy and whole.
As the students in the Great Hall began to settle down, McGonagall stood up to welcome the returning students back and to introduce Susan Bones and Terry Boot as the new Head Boy and Girl. Harry watched Hermione closely during the announcement and leaned across the table a bit. “Are you okay with this?” he asked, concern in his voice. At Hermione’s perplexed look, he went on, “I mean about not being Head Girl. If we had told McGonagall earlier that we were coming back, that would be you.”
Hermione just smiled and put her hand over his, grasping it slightly. “No, Harry, I’m fine, honestly,” she replied, no false modesty forcing her to argue that she might not have been chosen as Head Girl. “I think I’ve had enough stress and responsibility to last me a while. Perhaps it’s really a blessing in disguise. I’m planning on enjoying this last year of school as much as possible,” she said with a brilliant smile.
Harry smiled back, and if he noticed that she didn’t remove her hand from his for the next few minutes or so, he certainly didn’t say anything about it.
As McGonagall signaled the beginning of the Sorting Ceremony, Ron let out an audible groan. “Good lord, look at all the little buggers! It’ll be forever before we get to eat!”
At that, Hermione gave Ron a slap on the shoulder and told him to act like a human being and not a slobbering animal. Harry just stifled his laughter, but he noticed that Ron was right: there were an unusually large number of first-years. The amount of time it took to go from “Abbot, Geoffrey” (to join his cousin in Hufflepuff) to “Yi, Janet” (to the claps of her new housemates in Gryffindor) seemed to last forever, and by the time McGonagall had finished introducing the new faculty and told them-borrowing Dumbledore’s phrase-to “tuck in,” Harry was sure people could hear his stomach growling.
At last the heaping platters of food appeared, and all the older Gryffindors stuffed themselves as they laughed and traded stories and anecdotes. As he looked over the table and waved at Lupin and Hagrid, Harry was sure he hadn’t enjoyed a Welcoming Feast more since his first year. By the time dinner was over (and even Ron was contentedly patting his belly) McGonagall stood up for some final words. He only listened with half an ear, as most of it was pretty standard stuff (Forbidden Forest bad, Filch had posted a new list of which products from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes were considered contraband, do not harass the Giant Squid, etc.), until she mentioned the uncommonly large number of first-years.
“Therefore,” she announced in her strangely crisp brogue, “your faculty has created a new program to help acclimate our newest students to these hallowed halls of learning. In each house, a first-year will be paired with a seventh-year student. The seventh-year student will act as a mentor to the first-year,” she continued loudly, silencing the groans that had broken out at various parts of the Great Hall with a stern look. “Each Head of House will decide how to match the students, and I am confident that this will be the start of a wonderful new Hogwarts tradition. And now! Please stand for the school song!”
As Harry sang the song (in a sort of cross between “La Cucaracha” and “Pop Goes the Weasel”) he glanced over at the group of first-years, and couldn’t help but grin as he saw the nervous awe on their faces. It was good to be back, and he couldn’t wait to see where the new year would take them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry sat in the chair by the fire, his jaw dropping lower and lower as he stared at the girl who was sitting on an ottoman inches away from him. How was it possible for a single human being to talk so much?
“I just can’t believe it, you know? I mean, I never would have thought when I got my Hogwarts letter that I would be meeting you, I mean, you’re Harry Potter, you know? But here I am, and you’re my mentor. Mentor sounds so stuffy, you know? I’m glad that Professor Lupin is calling it big and little brothers and sisters. Oh my god, Harry Potter’s my big brother! That’s so exciting, you know? I mean, I already have a big brother, but he’s in Venice, working as a mediwizard. That’s in Italy. I can’t believe it! First I’m sorted into Gryffindor and now Harry Potter is my big brother! It’s just so amazing, you know?”
Harry just stared at the blonde first-year for a full ten seconds before he realized that she had finally stopped talking. At what sounded suspiciously like laughter, he looked over to the sofa to see Hermione and Ron “coughing” as they tried to avoid looking at him. Harry narrowed his eyes. Their “little brothers” were noticeably calm and normal. Ron’s first-year was a short, easy-going boy from a village nearby Ottery St. Catchpole, and it seemed like they were discussing Quidditch. Harry couldn’t tell what Hermione and her first-year were talking about, but the blond boy was hanging on her every word with rapt attention. Why Lupin had paired him with this chatterbox was beyond him. She would have been perfect for Lavender. ‘Oh well,’ he thought to himself, ‘at least I only have one little sister to worry about.’ His eyes quickly darted to Seamus and Dean, who had both been assigned two first-years each.
“Uh… Fiona,” Harry began, realizing that his charge was looking at him expectantly, when she suddenly cut him off.
“Fifi,” she announced. At his bewildered look, she explained, “I go by Fifi. It’s more fun than ‘Fiona,’ you know?”
At that he could only wince. There was no way he was going to call anything human by the name of “Fifi.” He shook his head and tried again. “Uh, yeah. How about Fiona can be the special name that I call you?” Without waiting for an answer, he went on. “So, do you have any questions? You’ll get your schedule tomorrow from Professor Lupin at breakfast, so be sure to be there on time.” As Fiona took a deep breath, Harry soon realized his mistake. “ACTUALLY!” he almost shouted, causing more than a few heads to snap in his direction. “How about you save your questions till after you get your schedule? I’m sure you’re tired and want to settle in to your room and get to know your roommates.”
“Okay,” Fiona replied, scrambling to her feet before she threw her arms around Harry’s neck and squeezed. She didn’t seem to notice Harry’s choking sounds as she pulled away. “Have a good night!” she said brightly, bounding across the room before turning back to him. “This is going to be the best year ever, you know?” she exclaimed before she scampered up the stairs to the girls’ dorms.
Harry only had a moment to close his eyes, exhale and sink back into his chair before the laughter of his best friends reached his ears. He opened his eyes to see them making their way over to him, their own first-years also having gone up to their rooms. “Don’t rub it in,” he growled, but with a quirk to his lips.
“Are you kidding?” Ron asked as he plopped down onto the ottoman that Fiona had vacated. “I’ve just realized how much fun this year is going to be. Remind me to thank Lupin for your assignment.”
Harry laughed and threw a cushion at him as Hermione motioned for him to slide a little to the side of the chair so that she could wedge herself in beside him. Harry smiled at her and put his arm around her shoulders, glad that he was so comfortable with his best friend at his side. After the previous summer, they had been in some close quarters, to the point that they were very comfortable with each other’s personal space. “And what about you, Hermione?” he asked, looking down into her sparkling brown eyes. “How’s your little brother?”
“His name’s Michael, and he’s a Muggle-born, too. I think that’s why Remus matched us up together. He’s a little shy, but seems nice so far. To be honest, I think this is a rather nice program. I wish I had had something like it when I was a first year.”
Harry smiled at her and gave her shoulders a squeeze, remembering how rough her first month at Hogwarts had been for her.
Ron’s cheeks pinked a little as he also remembered, and then added, “My midget-Quintus-is not so bad, actually. He’s a Cannons fan.”
At that, Hermione snorted, and Harry fought a laugh. Leave it to Ron to boil it down to the really important information. Like their young charges, they also went to their respective beds soon afterwards, settling in for the night and for their last year at Hogwarts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry sighed as he looked at the schedule Lupin had handed him. Double Potions first thing after breakfast. True, he actually kind of liked Professor Slughorn, but potions still left a bad taste in his mouth. He sighed and looked over at Hermione as she pored over her own schedule, her lips pursed and her brows knit together. He smiled as he continued to watch her. She might have relaxed a bit since Voldemort’s defeat, but she was still Hermione, and woe to anyone who got between her and her schoolwork.
He was about to contemplate the way the sun streaming through the windows sort of made her hair shinier, when he was interrupted by about eighty pounds of girl suddenly squeezing him around the neck, and a loud “Good morning, big brother Harry!” shouted into his ear.
Harry tried to ignore the good-natured grins that broke out on his area of the long table, but knew that his face was a bit pink as he listened to Fiona (rather vocally) tell him about how wonderful her first night in Gryffindor tower was, how adorable all her new roommates were and how fabulous her first day in classes was going to be. After demanding to know where the Charms classroom was, she gave him another choke-hold of a hug and flounced out of the Great Hall with three other girls in tow.
Harry just stared after her a bit, bemused and with his mouth hanging slightly open, when he finally shook himself back to his surroundings. He looked across the table and saw that Ron was talking to Quintus, who was apparently asking some question about the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Though how the boy could understand a word Ron was saying around his mouthful of eggs and sausage, Harry had no idea.
But he had no time to ponder such deep questions before he found himself shoved rather rudely to the side. As he began cursing the strange precedent of being physically assaulted at breakfast that seemed to have developed, he turned to his side and found that Michael had rather forcefully insinuated himself on the bench between Harry and Hermione.
Harry fought the urge to scowl at an eleven-year-old boy, and had to content himself with chewing his toast rather vigorously. After all, Michael wouldn’t take his seat for that long; if judging by Fiona and Quintus, he would just touch base with his “big sister” and then be off.
But as he began to munch on his third piece of toast, Michael was still there, the boy’s focus completely on Hermione. Well, judging by the fact that Harry only saw the back of the blond boy’s head, and that the first-year practically ignored his roommates as they made their way to class. Ron only gave Harry a rather pointed glance at the boy followed by a comical eye-roll, and then he also left to walk with Ginny and Luna.
Soon, it was practically only the three of them left at the enormous table. Three people sitting rather close together, but one of the three having had nothing to say for the previous fifteen minutes. Harry was getting more than a little irritable at the situation and finally interrupted. “Hermione, I really think we should be getting to Potions. I know you don’t want to be late.”
At that, he finally got their attention. Hermione looked over at him with a bright smile, but Michael looked more than a bit annoyed. “Of course, Harry,” she replied with a wink as she got up from the table. “And you better get to Charms with the rest of your year,” she told Michael, throwing her heavy book bag’s strap over her shoulder.
“I don’t know where it is,” Michael replied, eliciting a silent groan from Harry. Good lord, what had the kid been pestering Hermione about for so long? Fiona might be a bit mad, but at least she had been quick about getting the relevant information and then going along her way.
“That’s okay,” Hermione told the boy with a smile as she ruffled his mop of blond hair. “We’ll take you on the way to our class.”
“Yeah,” Harry muttered to himself. “Because it’s so completely on the way to Potions.”
At that, Michael quickly grabbed her hand and they began to walk out of the Great Hall, with Harry bringing up the rear. A rather cranky Harry. A rather cranky Harry who only got for some reason crankier when he thought he saw Michael throw a satisfied smile at him over his shoulder.
PART II