Chapter 13
It had been almost a week since Harry's unexpected visitor arrived, and he was still playing the conversation over in his head whenever he was alone. Currently, he was lying awake in bed as dawn was just beginning to break, his mind racing as he recalled Dobby's warnings.
After Dobby had introduced himself as a house-elf, a creature who willingly served his master's every need (which prompted Hermione to bristle), he had advised the pair that anyone who went to Hogwarts would be in grave danger. He refused to admit how he knew such things, insisting that he couldn't reveal it without speaking against his master.
Then, the elf admitted that if the pair felt cut off from their friends due to a lack of letters, they wouldn't want to go back to Hogwarts at all, so he'd intercepted all of their mail, including Harry's pleas to Gringotts. After barely resisting the urge to strangle him, Harry told Dobby they would do no such thing – they were going to Hogwarts and no amount of interference could stop them from doing so. The elf responded by bursting into tears, which made Hermione quite sad but Harry had just felt rather uncomfortable. The bushy-haired witch decided to sit on the bed with the creature, wrapping an arm around its shoulders to alleviate his frustration.
Through the tears, Dobby confessed that he had planned to perform magic at the Granger residence in an effort to get them expelled for underage magic. Harry felt rage boil in his veins, but before he could open his mouth Hermione began offering kind words in a soft voice, trying to convince the elf that it wouldn't work and that he should stop fretting. Harry admired her compassion, and even felt some of his anger dissipating at the sound of her voice.
Dobby eventually calmed down, spewing all kinds of apologies for his threats to use magic. Hermione – and Harry, albeit begrudgingly – forgave him, and they made the elf swear to stop hindering their mail and trying to prevent them from going to Hogwarts. Dobby nodded dejectedly and disappeared with a small pop into thin air.
Since then, the two of them had busied themselves with all matter of things and made a point of talking about anything besides their sudden warning. For one, it took them hours to read through the myriad of letters they hadn't had the chance to read. All of their friends from Gryffindor had written them, most of them multiple times to make sure everything was alright. Harry had been bombarded with birthday messages, and Ron had sent him a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages as a gift. The Weasley twins had sent him some fake wands that exploded upon trying to cast a spell, and most everyone else had sent him some magical candies. The pair happily wrote back to all of their friends, agreeing to say that they'd come down with the flu and didn't want to germ up any letters that their friends would be touching. Both felt uneasy telling their classmates that Hogwarts would be the home of some grave dangers according to an elf.
Letters from Hogwarts arrived the next day with their school supply list, and the Grangers agreed to take them to Diagon Alley the next Saturday. Harry and Hermione received a frantically written letter from Ron, who told them he was glad that they were better, and asked if they would be in Diagon Alley come Saturday.
Harry was ecstatic at the thought of seeing another friend this summer, as well as meeting the rest of the Weasley family he'd heard so much about. But he couldn't quell the nervous knot that formed in his stomach at the thought of Dobby's forewarning.
"Harry?" A familiar voice whispered from the other side of the bedroom door. He blinked, sitting up straight as he was ripped away from his train of thought.
"Hermione?" He mumbled, and he saw the doorknob slowly turn. The bushy-haired witch poked her head in.
"Can we talk?"
"You usually just start talking without giving me a choice – "
"I'll take that as a yes." She huffed, gingerly closing the door behind her and walking over to Harry's bed. "So," she sighed, plopping down on the side of the bed, "I think we should tell Ron about Dobby when we see him in Diagon Alley." She said matter-of-factly, spinning around so she could sit cross-legged and face Harry.
"OK." Harry said, hoping to hear an explanation. He remembered how Ron had cowered in the bathroom when he was face-to-face with a troll, and immediately decided that telling the redhead he'd be in more danger was not a wise idea.
"I know he's a git, but hear me out. Besides you and me, he was the only person who knew about the Stone. He kept his mouth shut about that, didn't he?" Harry nodded reluctantly. "Plus, I think someone who lives full-time in the wizarding world might know something about whatever Dobby was talking about. What other purebloods do you know that you're certain wouldn't tell anybody?" She explained, wringing her hands nervously in her lap.
"OK." Harry repeated, still unsure. It did make sense, and perhaps fresh ears regarding the warnings were needed. He and Hermione had silently been repeating their cryptic encounter in their heads in hopes of finding some new details. "You're not just doing this because you feel bad about not bringing him to get the Stone?" He asked with a smirk.
Hermione scoffed. "Honestly, Harry, if we could survive chess without the prat…" She sighed, sporting a smirk of her own. The two shared a laugh, before Hermione turned back to Harry expectantly.
"So what do you think?" She asked almost pleadingly. "I want to know what's going to happen."
"I do too." Harry sighed. "Alright. We can tell him. But it'll be hard getting him alone. He's got three brothers and a sister, plus his parents will probably be with him."
"We'll figure something out." Hermione smiled. "Don't we always?"
"You always figure something out." Harry was smirking again, and Hermione's cheeks turned pink. She ducked her head hurriedly, then met his eyes again.
"I'll go get ready. We'll probably be heading out soon. Mum wants Dad to take her out for a nice lunch in London while we do our shopping." She sighed, carefully swinging her legs over the edge and sliding off the bed. "I'll see you downstairs."
Harry nodded, and watched her tiptoe out of his room, closing the door behind her. He sighed, falling backwards and letting his head hit the pillow. He lied in bed for a few minutes, turning over their bizarre encounter with Dobby one more time before dragging himself out of bed to get ready.
By the time he had arrived downstairs, showered and dressed in his grey Henley shirt from J. Crew and black jeans, Hermione and her parents were relaxing in the living room, bacon sizzling in the frying pan. The four of them shared a pleasant breakfast, going over once again what time the Grangers wanted to meet Harry and Hermione at the Leaky Cauldron once they were done all their shopping.
They clambered into Mr Granger's Jaguar and set off towards London, cruising along the motorway. Harry and Hermione felt the anxiety of talking to Dobby melt away as their excitement for re-entering the magical world grew. By the time they pulled in front of the Leaky Cauldron, they were practically bouncing around the backseat and dashed out into the open after a rushed goodbye.
The pair strolled through the entrance and waved hello to Tom before reaching the seemingly normal brick wall that guarded the entrance. Hermione eagerly tapped the correct sequence of bricks and soon a large archway led them out into a bustling street full of equally excited witches and wizards – Diagon Alley.
"Gringotts?"
"Gringotts."
Hermione beamed and grabbed Harry's hand to drag him through the street, running as fast as their legs would carry them. They stumbled through the entrance to the goblin-run bank, and Hermione quickly ran over to one of the many exchange tellers to convert the muggle pounds her parents had given her.
As he watched her fork over paper note after paper note, Harry suddenly realized he couldn't let Hermione (or her parents) pay for her school supplies. The Grangers had undertaken a significant financial burden by having him for the summer without a second thought. It was the least he could do for Hermione and her parents, he felt. He decided he'd make his trip to his vault and withdraw enough Galleons to pay for every robe, book, and material his friend would need.
"I've never gone down into the vaults before. What's it like?" Hermione asked as she bounded back over to Harry. They were quickly met by another goblin, who offered to take them down to Harry's vault.
"You'll see." Harry smirked.
Hermione's face had turned green the moment the cart lurched forward, whizzing down the caves and passing vault after vault. Harry hastily shovelled a few handfuls of Galleons into his bag before Hermione could get a good look at the small fortune in his vault. Soon enough, the two were back above sea-level, with Hermione breathing heavily.
"You could have warned me…" She groaned, placing her hands on her knees as they stepped out of the bank and into the sunlight. Harry didn't notice his friend's discomfort, however. What he saw was a familiar patch of blonde hair over pale skin skulking away from a dingy-looking street, accompanied by a much taller frame with equally blonde hair.
"Is that Malfoy?" He whispered, and Hermione's queasiness seemed to vanish as she whipped their head in the direction of the Slytherin. This time, it was Harry who instinctively grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her towards the pair of blondes.
He assumed it was Malfoy's father when he caught sight of a sneering face that bore an unsettling resemblance to their classmate's. He pulled his son behind a corner and Harry and Hermione crept as close as they dared, staying around the corner and out of eyesight. They strained their ears to pick up the hushed conversation.
"I don't want to hear you complain about teachers playing favourites again! You are a Malfoy, that alone commands near unmatched respect in our world. I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam, but instead you're being a bitter brat in public." They heard a voice hiss. Harry turned to Hermione, beaming, and she blushed and looked to the ground. "I only offered to let you help me sell those…items because I thought you had earned that privilege." Malfoy's father continued. "Perhaps I was wrong. You wouldn't want me to scrap buying you a racing broom from today's schedule, would you?"
"No." They heard Malfoy mumble dejectedly.
"I thought not. Come, Draco."
Harry and Hermione frantically dashed backwards, trying to put as much space between the Malfoys and themselves as possible. They quickly marched down Diagon Alley, and Harry pulled her in front of Madam Malkin's robe shop before he spoke.
"What do you think he was selling?"
"I don't know, Harry, but I don't have a good feeling about it. That street looked shady, I doubt he was getting rid of his old hair extensions."
Harry stood dumbfounded at Hermione, before they burst into laughter.
"You pick interesting times to crack jokes, you know that?" He managed to gasp out, holding his sides.
"I'm sorry, but he's got better hair than I do. It was all I could think of, besides whatever sinister things they're planning, of course." Hermione chuckled, wiping a tear away from her eye. "Do you think it has anything to do with what Dobby said?" Harry shrugged.
"Ron seemed to know a bit about the Malfoy family on the Hogwarts Express last year. Remember? He told us how they sided with You-Know-Who before, you know." Harry pointed to his scar. "We'll talk to him when he gets to Diagon Alley, but nobody else. Sound good?"
Hermione nodded, and took a deep breath. Harry saw her brown eyes were darkened with concern, possibly worry. She turned to meet his eyes and they instantly brightened.
"Shall we start shopping?" She asked excitedly. Harry grinned, and they waltzed into Madam Malkin's. After getting fitted for new a new school uniform, Hermione walked up to the counter to pay for her wardrobe additions.
"Oh, sweetheart, your friend was nice enough to pay already." The mauve-dressed woman smiled, pointing to Harry, who was suddenly staring at the ceiling awkwardly.
"Harry?"
"Yes?" He practically squeaked.
"What do you think you're doing?" She marched over to him.
"Trying to count the ceiling tiles."
"There's no tiles on the ceiling, you prat."
"Ah, that's why I'm having so much trouble – ow!" He groaned as he felt a fist collide with his shoulder. "That was not a proportional response…" He grumbled, rubbing his shoulder with one hand and holding his new robes in the other.
"You're not paying for me, Harry Potter."
"I've got an entire summer's worth of meals, clothes, and birthday gifts to make up for, Hermione. It's the least I can do." He finally turned to her, his eyes steely with determination. Hermione sighed, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Now, I think you need some new quills." He grinned, strolling out the door nonchalantly to Amanuensis Quills next door. The pair steamrolled through shop after shop, with Hermione groaning every time she tried to sneak off to the counter only to be told Harry had already paid.
At last, when Hermione dragged Harry away from the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, the two of them caught sight of a crowd of redheads.
"Harry! Hermione!" A voice called out. Ron Weasley sprinted through the throng of people and ran up to them, a grin stretched across his face. "It's great to see you both!" He panted. Harry and Hermione grinned back. "I was really worried something happened – I'm sorry you two got ill. Some way to spend your summer, eh?" He nudged Harry, but suddenly turned serious. "I honestly thought I'd scared you both off, especially you Hermione. I thought all that rubbish I said about you in the beginning of the year finally caught up to me." Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise, and Harry couldn't help but open his mouth in surprise.
"Oh, well, it wasn't – " Hermione stammered incoherently.
"Either way, I'm sorry. I know if someone treated me like I treated you I would have dropped them like that." He snapped his fingers for effect. "Cheers to you for still being nice to me and all. I'm going to try and be better about it this year."
Harry stood in stunned silence, and after shooting a glance to Hermione she looked equally astonished. 'Is Ron apologizing?' Harry thought to himself. He wracked his brain and couldn't remember Ron uttering the word 'sorry' once during the entirety of first-year, and definitely not towards Hermione.
"Thank you, Ronald." Hermione said, finally composing herself. "We actually, need to talk to you about – "
"You must be Harry! And Hermione!" A voice cried out from behind Ron. The children turned their heads toward a sea of red hair, led by a thin man with glasses. He had a bit of a bald spot on his head, but his hair was fiery red just like the rest of the Weasleys. "I'm Arthur, Arthur Weasley."
The pair quickly introduced themselves to Mr and Mrs Weasley. Mrs Weasley didn't hesitate to throw her arms around them, causing Harry to bristle uncomfortable and Hermione made a strange sound in her throat.
"Oh, it's wonderful to meet you two!" The redheaded woman exclaimed. "I see you two have been busy shopping already. Have you been to Flourish and Blotts yet?" The pair shook their heads, hoping to wait until Ron arrived to do so.
"Well, how about we meet there in a half an hour. We've got to swing by Gringotts and get Ginny a wand!" Mrs Weasley pointed triumphantly at a young girl behind her. Harry turned to the redheaded girl and her cheeks instantly matched her hair, and she dashed behind her mother with a squeak.
"She's been off her rocker about meeting the great Harry Potter!" Fred Weasley grinned, clapping Harry on the back.
"So brave…" Mused George.
"So handsome…"
"So – "
"Boys!" Mrs Weasley glowered, and the twins shut their mouths, but gave Harry a pair of sly smiles.
"Mum, can I hang around Diagon Alley with Harry and Hermione a bit? I haven't seen them in so long." Ron asked innocently. Mrs Weasley paused, but nodded her head.
"Just make sure you're at the bookstore by 2. Don't want to miss the signing!" She smiled before whisking the rest of her family towards the white marble bank.
"Blegh. She and Ginny won't shut their mouths about Lockhart. Insisted we go when he's signing books. Honestly, he seems kind of pompous." Ron muttered.
"Lockhart's signing books today?" Hermione asked excitedly. "We can actually meet him! He's written practically the whole booklist!" She squealed. Ron gave Harry a dejected look, and Harry couldn't help but snort.
"Ice cream?" Harry asked, and both his friends grinned. Harry led them to Florean Fortescue's parlour excitedly, and the three of them talked about the upcoming year.
Harry suddenly recalled a mental promise he'd made one year ago on the Hogwarts Express – he remembered Hermione gushing about how strawberry-and-peanut-butter was her favourite flavour at the small shop and how he'd internally vowed to buy her one. He grinned to himself, proud that he'd remembered such a detail for his friend, and happily purchased three large cones of the very flavour.
"You remembered!" Hermione beamed as he handed over her cone. Harry felt his cheeks grow warm.
"Of course I remembered, Hermione. What kind of friend would I be if I forgot?" It was Hermione's turn to blush, and she busied herself with her ice cream.
"So, you said you wanted to talk about something?" Ron managed to speak, his mouth full of ice cream. Harry and Hermione exchanged uneasy glances, and told him everything. They told him about Dobby hiding their letters, trying to block them off from Hogwarts so that they would be safe.
"Wonder why he didn't warn me…" Ron speculated absent-mindedly. Harry noticed his tone wasn't spiteful, but of genuine curiosity. He began wondering if something set him and Hermione apart, but quickly returned to hear Hermione's retelling of Malfoy and his father's conversation.
"Hey, that had to feel good, knowing you live rent-free in Malfoy's head?" He asked Hermione with a grin. Hermione sighed, and Ron turned serious again.
"Well, there's not much I can tell you about what – what was his name? Dumbo? Dobby, sorry – there's not much I can tell you about what Dobby said. I haven't heard anything about threats against Hogwarts, and it sounds like he was pretty vague on purpose. House-elves can't speak ill of their masters, it's like it's burned into their little brains that they can't, otherwise they try and hurt themselves as punishment."
"That's barbaric!" Hermione gasped.
"But!" Ron added with a small smile. "I think I know what Malfoy and his dad were on about. My dad works for the Ministry, and they've been conducting raids to try and seize dark objects from former supporters of You-Know-Who." He spoke the last part in a whisper. "You said Malfoy was selling stuff in that dingy street over there? That's Knockturn Alley, full of all kinds of the wrong sort. There's a store called Borgin and Burke's that Fred and George really want to visit because it's got all kinds of cool artefacts, but lots of them have dark magic. That's probably where he sold that stuff. No way Mum would let them anywhere near it.
"Malfoy's dad is a pretty powerful guy, but if even he is getting nervous enough to sell his evil artifacts and what-not, then I guess my dad's doing something right." Ron concluded. Harry nodded pensively, wrapping his head around the information Ron relayed them. It paid to have friends in the magical world 24/7, he decided.
"You understand nobody can know about this, right?" Hermione whispered, glancing around the table. Ron nodded.
"Just like the Stone." He smirked before dragging a finger across his lips as if he were zipping them closed. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to Harry.
"Do you think there's any connection between the Malfoys being suspicious and Dobby's warning?" He asked Ron, who shrugged.
"Doesn't seem like there's enough to go on. Granted, the Malfoys have been causing trouble for a long time. I'm sure that smarmy brat wouldn't mind making life miserable for everyone at Hogwarts." Ron sighed, pursing his lips as he thought about what he'd been told. "I'm glad you guys came to me, though. At least I know ahead of time that…you know, the safest school in Britain is now a danger zone." He smirked, but his voice was wobbling from nerves.
"There's also the chance that we're looking too far into things." Hermione placated.
"Yeah, maybe Dobby's just another member of the Harry Potter Fan Club that wants him all for himself!" Ron snorted, and the three of them were laughing again, just like that.
"Oh, bloody…it's almost two o'clock. Guess we should head over." Ron grumbled, getting to his feet. The trio strolled over to Flourish and Blotts, grabbing copies of The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 2 as they walked in before meeting up with the Weasley clan towards the front of the line.
A wizard wearing forget-me-not blue robes stepped out from behind a stack of books, and the room broke into applause. Harry swore he saw Mrs Weasley swoon. The man, whom Harry realized to be Lockhart, flashed a dazzling smile and waved to the crowd. Suddenly, he locked eyes with the bespectacled wizard and froze.
"It can't be!" He shouted. "Harry Potter!"
Harry felt his stomach plummet. The last thing he wanted was to be ogled at by the one person in the wizarding world that seemed to garner attention like he did, but before he could react the wizard seized him by the arm and dragged him forward. Harry felt his head swim as photographers began clicking away and Lockhart began shouting to the crowd and something about Defense Against the Dark Arts, his arm in a vice grip around the boy's shoulders. Through the flash bulbs and the moving people and faces he was able to catch Hermione's eye, who was staring at him with concern.
"Here you are, Harry, free of charge!" Lockhart cried out, handing him a stack of brand new books. Harry staggered under the sudden weight, and quickly shuffled over to Hermione and the Weasleys. Hermione held her hands out to support him, but Harry dumped the books into her arms.
"I don't want these." He managed. "I think I need some air." He gasped out, making his way towards the exit. He stepped out into the fresh air and leaned against the brick wall, breathing heavily.
"Harry, are you alright?" He heard Hermione ask. He turned his head to see his bushy-haired friend slip out the door and approach him.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
"I just…" Harry groaned. "I really hate all the attention I get for this." He pointed to his scar dismally. "I've spent an entire summer being a normal kid, and now, being thrown back into the spotlight like that was just…I don't know."
"Nauseating?" Hermione offered.
"Yeah." Harry nodded. "Nauseating."
"It's alright, Harry." She carefully grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the wall. He lifted his head to meet her eyes. "You'll always have me, and I know the real you. And believe me, the real you is nothing special." She smirked, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. Suddenly, a pair of bodies came crashing through the door, and Harry yanked Hermione out of harm's way.
Harry caught sight of a familiar blonde mane tangled with a balding patch of fiery red hair and realized it was Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy. A crowd of Weasleys and eager observers followed them outside, and eventually the pair were pulled apart.
Harry saw Mr Malfoy thrust a battered textbook towards a very flustered-looking Ginny Weasley before storming off, his son following suit after sneering at him and Hermione. Harry felt compelled to follow Mr Weasley's example, but Hermione gave him a gentle squeeze.
Harry turned and saw he still had his arms wrapped around Hermione from pulling her away from the fight and quickly let go, turning back towards a disgruntled Mr Weasley to avoid making eye contact with his best friend.
"Harry, it's almost 2:30, we should get back to the Leaky Cauldron." Hermione whispered. Harry nodded, and the pair quickly re-entered the store so Harry could buy his own set of books before they left Diagon Alley. They left the store and said their good-byes to the Weasleys before making their way back towards the muggle world.
The duo met Hermione's parents in the pub, and they were nervously eyeing Tom, the barkeep, and Harry heard Mr Granger mutter something about a "toothless walnut."
"Did you two get everything you needed?" Mrs Granger asked as they walked out of the tavern.
"Oh yes we did. This one insisted on buying me everything. Everything." She added, shooting a half-glare, half-smile at Harry.
"Harry!" Mr Granger stopped walking suddenly just before they reached the car. "Harry, no. I can't ask you to do that – "
"Then don't." Harry responded with a wink. The dentist stared, dumbfounded, before cracking a proud smile and chuckling to himself.
"Using my own words against me. No wonder you're friends with my daughter…" He sighed as he slid into the driver's seat. Harry grinned and clambered into the backseat, and before they were even moving they were eagerly reading through their new books, asking each other questions and pointing out all sorts of details.
"You two know you have an entire school year to read those – "
"Hush, Dan. Let them have their fun." Mrs Granger smirked at her husband as they made their traveled down the motorway, the two children eagerly poring over their tomes.
Chapter 14
"Rise and shine, Harry Potter!"
"Blargh."
"You do know what today is, right?"
"Blargh."
"Get up. Now."
"Bla – ow!"
"We're leaving for King's Cross in an hour!"
Harry lifted his face from his pillow, gingerly rubbing the shoulder that Hermione had punched before marching out of his room. He blinked his eyes open and slowly slid out of bed, his feet hitting the carpeted floor. Suddenly, the realization that it was September 1st clicked with his brain, and the thought of returning to Hogwarts surged through him. He practically jumped for joy at the thought. He leapt off the bed and sprinted to the shower, his thoughts dominated by treacle tart and Exploding Snap in the Gryffindor common room.
By the time he made it downstairs he was grinning from ear to ear. He dragged his trunk to the foyer, leaning his broomstick against it gingerly and placing Hedwig's cage on top. He turned, pulling a black box out of his pocket and flipping it open. His quasi-Snitch zoomed upwards, and Harry deftly caught it and released it, repeating the process as he walked into the Grangers' kitchen.
"Good morning, Harry." Mr. Granger smiled, handing him a plate of toast and bacon. "Excited?"
"Can't wait!" Harry reciprocated his cheerfulness, eagerly taking his place at the table. Hermione was already sitting down, absent-mindedly chewing a piece of bacon as she pored over Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart. "Comparing track records?" Harry whispered so only his best friend would hear. She squeaked, and quickly slammed the book shut.
"Hush!" She hissed, unable to hide her blush nor her shy smile.
Mrs. Granger entered the kitchen, affectionately ruffling each of the kids' hair. She joined them at the table, followed by her husband. The four of them ate a chipper breakfast, going over travel plans one last time. Before Harry knew it, he was dropping his belongings in the trunk he'd removed them from two months prior. He recalled how he'd felt when he arrived at the Granger residence the first night – almost crippled by fear and anxiety.
Just over two months later, he didn't want to leave. Then again, he really wanted to go back to Hogwarts. He sighed as he closed the trunk and slowly ambled into the backseat. He almost longed for the ease of abandoning Privet Drive last summer, how easy it was to ditch the Dursleys in favor of the magical world. It was a hundred times harder to leave the Grangers. Maybe he could stay in Crawley, he thought to himself, and go camping on the weekends with Mr. Granger. He could spend more time cooking and walking around Sapphire Park.
Then Hermione slid in the seat next to him and leaned into his side, beaming with excitement. All thoughts of forgoing Hogwarts vanished from his mind, and he returned his best friend's smile. Hermione straightened as her parents climbed in, and soon enough Mr. Granger had them cruising down the motorway towards King's Cross.
"Now, you're certain you'll be meeting your Weasley friends at 10:30?" Hermione's father asked a few minutes into the drive.
"Yes, dad." Hermione sighed. It was the twentieth time he'd asked since Ron wrote to them, offering to escort them to their train in a much more wizardly manner: Side-Along Apparition. Ron explained that they'd be much less likely to be spotted by any prying Muggle eyes, and Harry assumed it'd be much less of a hassle to find a compartment together if they arrived simultaneously.
Soon enough, the car was parked, and Harry and Hermione were making a mad dash to the station. Harry checked his watch the moment that they arrived at the quiet stairwell off to the side that Ron had described in his letter: 10:26. The four of them looked around and noticed there was nobody around them, a far-cry from the crowds in the center of the train station. Harry wondered if the staircase was even in use.
"Well, we better get off before traffic gets too bad." Mrs. Granger managed awkwardly. The two students nodded, and they began to exchange goodbyes with Hermione's parents.
"It was a pleasure to have you, dear." Hermione's mother whispered as she pulled Harry into a tight hug. Harry managed a small thank you, trying to keep his emotions under control. Once she pulled away, Harry turned to Mr. Granger, who held out a hand.
"Take care of yourself." He said with a solemn expression. Harry nodded with an equally resolute expression and shook the dentist's hand. "And take care of her. I know you'll make us both very proud."
Harry suddenly felt as if his eyes were going to explode, and his heart felt like it would burst at any moment. Nonetheless, he managed a weak nod and Mr. Granger gave him one last proud smile and wink. He and his wife offered very heart-warming goodbyes with their daughter before walking hand-in-hand towards the exit. Harry watched them enter the throng of station-goers and inhaled sharply, as if willing his tears to not fall. It seemed to work, and he let out a shaky breath before turning to Hermione.
CRACK
"Harry! Hermione!"
The pair whipped their heads around towards the staircase they stood next to. Arthur Weasley had seemed to appear out of nowhere, materializing underneath the stairs with a grin stretched across his face. He was holding hands with the twins, who offered cheerful – albeit sarcastic – greetings. One of the twins had gripped Percy Weasley by the jumper, and he offered a meager hello.
CRACK
Mr. Weasley had vanished just as quickly as he has appeared, and Harry felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
CRACK
"Told you they'd be waiting. Hey, Harry! Hermione!" A familiar voice called out. Ron suddenly appeared as if he'd ripped off his own Invisibility Cloak, along with the rest of his family. Mr. Weasley was gripping him by the arm in one hand, and in his other he held his wife's, who clutched Ginny like she was going to fly away. Harry and Hermione exchanged hellos with the Weasley clan, and Harry began asking some of the million questions racing through his mind.
"So, are you just teleporting? How do you know where to go? How does it even work? What does it feel like? What does – "
"Bloody hell, Harry, I might have to start teasing you now instead of Hermione!" Ron snorted, but Harry sensed his comment was much more good-natured than any similar sentiment would have been last year. Hermione even cracked a smile at the remark.
'If one good thing came from Dobby cutting us off from the magical world for a month and a half, it's that Ron's certainly much less of an arse.' Harry thought amusedly. He turned his attention back to the real world to hear Ron's answers.
"Basically, if you have a clear image of where you want to go, you can Apparate there. It takes loads of practice, though. Most wizards learn in sixth year at the very earliest." Ron explained.
"So hopefully Percy will Apparate as far away from us as he can once he learns in a few months!" George Weasley whispered with a smirk.
"The pompous git says he's going for Head Boy next year. Our brother Bill was Head Boy a few years ago, you know. I don't think we could bear the shame if we had a second one in the family." Fred sighed. Percy was pretending not to hear his brothers as he irritably dusted himself off.
"So is this how you always get to the platform? You don't even bother with the brick wall?" Hermione asked. The twins shrugged.
"Last year we took the Muggle entrance. Dad was working and Mum isn't really as good at Apparating as she claims to be." Said Fred.
"She decided it would be good for us to venture into the Muggle world for a bit. This year, since Dad's got the day off, we're using Apparition." George added.
"Every year besides last year, Dad would pop back and forth between the platform and this spot here while Mum kept watch." Ron concluded, throwing air quotes around the last two words with a smirk. "The man loves Muggles, but even he understands it's better to do this. Less likely to be caught and all." He stopped and turned as his father approached the cluster of children.
"Harry, Hermione, listen," Mr. Weasley began, his face crinkled in an expression of sorrow, "I have to apologize for my actions in Diagon Alley. Lucius Malfoy and I are not exactly the best of mates, but lunging at him in Flourish and Blotts was inexcusable, especially in front of my children and their friends. I hope you two can forgive me."
Harry was surprised. After hearing how Mr. Malfoy spoke of Hermione, as if she didn't deserve top marks because of her parents, he wouldn't mind laying the man out himself. Nonetheless, he managed to nod his head in acknowledgement, and Hermione did the same.
"Splendid. Ready, kids?" The redhead asked, his face brightening instantly. Not waiting for a response, he grabbed the back of Harry and Hermione's jackets. "Grab all your stuff. Don't forget your owl, Harry." He grinned before turning on the spot. Harry suddenly felt as if he had been folded into a ball and then yanked out through his own stomach. Just as quickly as the feeling happened, it vanished, and Harry was standing on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, facing a familiar scarlet steam engine.
"That was…unpleasant." Hermione managed through shaky breaths. Harry groaned in agreement, absent-mindedly patting himself down to make sure he hadn't been turned inside-out during the process.
Another series of CRACKs rang out, and every time Mr. Weasley re-appeared, more redheads joined them on the platform. When all five Weasley children joined the pair, they bid their parents goodbye and boarded the train.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron ventured off into a familiar compartment to find the remaining five of their Gryffindor crew waiting for them. They were welcomed with open arms, quite literally, and within a few minutes the eight students were recounting their summers and playing Exploding Snap amongst themselves.
For a blissful few hours, Harry didn't think about Dobby, or Malfoy, or any horrors or dangers that faced him at Hogwarts. Once again, he was a normal twelve-year old, doing typical twelve-year old things like gorging himself on sweets and playing with fire with his friends.
The landscape that rushed past their window got darker and darker as the sun made its way towards the horizon and the train rushed along towards the magical world. Harry occasionally glanced at Hermione, who, unsurprisingly, had her eyes glued to a book – Wanderings with Werewolves. Anytime she wasn't conversing with one of their classmates, she was poring over the Lockhart work. Harry assumed she was re-reading for educational purposes, but when he glanced away from his game of Exploding Snap he saw her eyebrows suddenly together, her lips curled into a small frown.
"What's wrong?" He asked, and she lifted her reluctantly turned her attention away from the pages.
"Nothing, it's just, this sounds a lot like something I read in the library last year." Hermione answered.
"This might come as a bit of a shock to you, Hermione, but Lockhart's kind of a big deal. You probably read one of his old manuscripts or something – "
"It was in the Restricted Section, when we were looking for information about the Stone." She interjected. "It was a journal, Harry. By an Armenian Warlock, but I can't remember his name…" She sighed, closing her eyes and somehow scrunching her eyebrows even tighter together.
"Fancy checking that journal out when we get to Hogwarts? You know I'd love to stick it to that pretentious prat for plagiarizing." Harry smirked. Hermione didn't respond, her expression deadly serious. She turned back to the book, and Harry shrugged and resumed his game with his oblivious friends.
The Hogwarts Express reached its destination, and the student body quickly disembarked. The eight Gryffindors split to fit into the carriages that transported non-first years to the school, with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbing into one and the rest into another.
They were all eager to make their way to the castle, so when their carriage began rolling magically towards the school they cheered, quite vocally. They ambled along, eagerly discussing the coming year's classes and what they expected Lockhart to be like as a teacher, until the glorious structure that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry came into view. From then on, they sat in silent awe until they entered the Great Hall. Sitting under the enchanted ceiling, they dug in, excited to be amongst friends in the magical world once again.
Two Days Later
Harry and Hermione were strolling across the Hogwarts grounds towards the castle, away from the greenhouses. They had just finished up an agonizingly long double-period of Herbology, and were on their way to Transfiguration.
"I think you're going to be Gryffindor's hero again if you keep earning ten points every time you raise your hand." Harry grinned as he held a door open for his friend. Hermione directed her eyes to the floor, blushing furiously.
"I only answered some questions." She said in a small whisper as they made their way up one of the many moving staircases. "It's not like I defeated You-Know-Who." She added with a smile of her own.
"Touché." Harry sighed. "Still, I have no idea how you remembered all of that about Mandrakes. All I remember is that they yell…" He trailed off, distractedly rubbing his ears.
"Well, if you're willing to continue our tradition from last year of spending free-time in the library, I'm sure I could get you up to speed." Hermione was now beaming at him, and Harry saw a surprising look in her eye. It reminded him of the look she'd given him in the Forest of Dean when she'd caught him staring at her. It was a look he'd made a point of not thinking about for well over a month.
"Alright then. The library." Harry managed awkwardly, and the two shared smiles before walking into Transfiguration.
After a class in which Hermione earned even more points for Gryffindor for transfiguring a dozen beetles into coat buttons, they strolled down to the Great Hall for lunch.
"How many did you get?" She asked him, eagerly brandishing her handful of buttons. Harry held up a singular button rather dejectedly. Hermione stifled a giggle. "I guess we'll be in the library quite a bit, then."
"I guess…" Harry sighed despondently. He felt a gentle elbow nudge his arm and turned to see his best friend giving him a playful smile. He returned it, feeling his mood lift rather quickly, and the pair joined Ron for lunch in the Great Hall.
"Don't know how you two had any luck with that beetle business. I was ready to squash mine after the first ten minutes." The redhead sighed as they sat down at the Gryffindor table. "You guys know what we've got this afternoon?"
"Defense Against the Dark Arts." Hermione stated matter-of-factly. Ron shrugged, then glanced at his bushy-haired friend's schedule. "What's that you've got written there? Next to Lockhart's name?" Harry turned his eyes to Hermione's schedule as well. "Ask about, does that say armpit?" Ron asked.
"It does not say 'ask about armpit', Ronald. I had a question about something in one of his books." Hermione glared, and she hurriedly snatched it off the table and thrust it into her bag. Ron threw his hands up in mock surrender.
"Sorry, sorry." He offered, grabbing a goblet of pumpkin juice.
Their lunch proceeded pleasantly after that, their conversation dominated by what Lockhart would be like as a teacher. Once they wrapped up, they opted to cut through one of the castle's many courtyards in order to get to their Defense class. Harry and his friends were halfway across the space when he felt like he was being watched. He stopped and turned around, locking eyes with a very small, mousy-haired boy he recognized from the Sorting ceremony, a Gryffindor. The first-year seemed very flustered at being seen by Harry, but proceeded to practically sprint over to him.
"Erm, hi, Harry Potter." He stammered out, eliciting a snicker from Ron. "I, uh, I'm Colin. Colin Creevey."
"Hi." His tone was devoid of all emotion, as if the word had been spoken by one of the cobblestones beneath his feet.
"I was wondering, if I could…well, if you wouldn't mind…" Colin trailed off nervously. Harry looked down and saw he was holding a muggle camera.
"You want a picture?" Harry sighed. The boy nodded eagerly. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, hoping they'd make an excuse for him. Ron held the same amused expression he sported whenever Harry encountered a fan, but Hermione was eyeing the camera with curiosity. Harry suddenly stiffened as he thought of an idea, and turned back to Colin. "How about this?" Colin perked up excitedly. "You and I take a photo together, then you take some pictures of me and my friends."
Colin looked like he was ready to cry the happiest tears of his life, and nodded eagerly. He gave Hermione the camera, and she snapped a photo of him and Harry. Harry did his best to smile, but from Ron's barely subdued smirk it was clear he appeared more uncomfortable than anything.
Mercifully, Hermione handed the camera back to Colin and he quickly began taking photos of the trio in various poses. Harry suddenly found it much easier to smile. He and Hermione particularly enjoyed teaching Ron what Charlie's Angels was and how to do the famous stance. A flurry of CLICKs echoed across the yard as the three of them laughed and posed to their heart's content.
"Colin, could we get some photos of us in pairs? Would you mind?" Hermione suddenly asked. The first-year nodded eagerly. Harry went to step to the side first, but he felt an arm slip around his waist and tug him back. He turned to Hermione with a surprised smile, and she beamed back before turning towards Colin. Harry looked to the lens.
CLICK
Harry's smile widened, and he moved to put his arm around Hermione's waist.
CLICK
Harry felt his friend's head rest on his shoulder.
CLICK
Harry heard Hermione giggle to herself, and he instantly fell victim to her contagious laughter.
CLICK
Harry was cackling harder than he could ever remember, and Hermione was practically roaring.
CLICK
Neither one of them could contain their laughter, and Hermione was now leaning on Harry for support to avoid rolling on the floor.
CLICK, CLICK, CLICK
"Harry, do you want some with Ron now? Or Hermione and Ron?" Colin asked, lowering his camera. Harry was about to respond through fits of laughter when the Hogwarts bell suddenly rang out across the castle.
"Alright, lunatics, we've got to go." Ron sighed, shaking his head at his friends. He was trying hard not to smile, but was failing quite spectacularly. "Colin, thank you for this majestic clusterf – "
"Anytime!" Colin shouted a bit too enthusiastically, and the trio winced at his sharp yelp. Harry and Hermione finally settled down.
"Here, Colin, take these. For developing the pictures." Harry managed to gasp out, handing Colin a few Sickles. The amateur photographer looked like he was on the verge of exploding from happiness. He took the coins and dashed off to his next class.
The trio turned and made their way towards Lockhart's classroom for their inaugural Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, with Harry and Hermione occasionally chuckling to themselves. Finally, they arrived to their lesson, and they quietly took their seats in the back row.
Harry hadn't noticed he'd been holding hands with Hermione until her fingers slipped out of his when she sat down His hand felt cold and empty as he picked up his quill, and he suddenly found it tremendously difficult to focus on what Lockhart was explaining. Something about lilac?
All Harry could think about was those photographs Colin would develop in a couple weeks' time. That, and his bushy-haired friend next to him, who was still smiling to herself.
Chapter 15
After getting ambushed by Cornish Pixies in Defense Against the Dark Arts, a particularly grueling Charms class, and constantly being badgered by Colin Creevey, Ginny Weasley, and Professor Lockhart, the weekend couldn't come soon enough for Harry Potter. Mercifully, he made it to the Great Hall on Friday night for dinner unscathed, and was eager to kick off his break from classes. He was surrounded by his Gryffindor classmates and recounting the bizarre events of the new school year with a constant smile on his face. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Harry! Been looking for you!" A familiar voice practically boomed from behind him. Harry fought the urge to submerge his face in the pudding in front of him.
"Hi, Oliver." Harry groaned, turning his head to meet the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain's eyes. "Let me guess – "
"First practice of the year tomorrow! Be in the locker room at dawn, Seeker." Wood winked before marching off, presumably to pester the other players about their upcoming practice.
"Yikes. Dawn?" Ron asked with a smirk. Harry sighed and put his face in his hands.
"It'll be alright, Harry." Hermione offered next to him. Harry groaned, and mumbled something incoherent about walking off the Astronomy Tower. "Oh, relax. We'll all be there to cheer you on, anyway."
Harry lifted his head in surprise. He turned to see Hermione, Ron, and every first-year Gryffindor nodding in agreement.
"Really?" He asked. Not waiting for a response, he tried to convince them otherwise: "You guys don't have to do that. It's the weekend, you guys should be sleeping – "
"We can still play Exploding Snap in the stands, Harry, don't you worry about us!" Seamus grinned. Dean and Neville nodded eagerly in agreement.
"Just don't fall asleep at the broom." Dean smirked.
"Plus, it's fun watching you fly." Lavender added. "We'll be there. All of us."
Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise at his friends' resolve. Even Ron and Neville – the heaviest sleepers he'd ever known – seemed eager to be there for him. He couldn't deny that it felt good to see how many people cared this much about him. It was like he had his own team off the Quidditch pitch.
"Thanks guys. That's really nice of you." He managed. They finished the meal amidst cheerful conversations unrelated to Quidditch, and they all walked merrily back to the common room and went to bed immediately.
Despite falling asleep much earlier than he usually did, Harry still felt like his eyes had been closed for only a minute before he was shaken awake by Wood. Groggily clambering out of bed, he pulled on his scarlet Quidditch jersey and robes before traipsing down the stairs. He heard his roommates reluctantly getting ready to walk down to the pitch as he closed the door behind him.
Once he reached the bottom of the staircase, he saw a familiar mane of bushier-than-usual brown hair spread out over an open book on one of the common room's many tables. The hair was attached to a slumped over body adorned in Gryffindor colors from head to toe. He gently poked Hermione's shoulder and she perked up almost instantly.
"You're awake!" She cried out, leaping to her feet.
"I certainly am. Are you?"
"I am now." She beamed.
"How long were you waiting for me?" Harry returned the smile.
"Doesn't matter. You're ready, right?"
He nodded, and the pair began their journey. They walked in a content silence, waving hello to the school ghosts and the occasional friendly painting as they strolled through the corridors.
As they cut through the same courtyard where they'd had their impromptu photoshoot a few days' prior, Harry recalled how he and Hermione had held hands on their way to class that day. He thought about lacing his fingers through hers once again, glancing from his hand to hers nervously.
He didn't realize how long he'd been staring at Hermione's fingers until they were standing outside the locker rooms. He glanced up to see Hermione looking at him expectantly.
"I'll…erm, I'll be in the stands." She managed. Harry nodded, and ambled into the locker room. Five of his teammates – the Weasley twins in particular – were on the verge of falling asleep in their seats. Wood, on the other hand, looked wide awake as he eagerly welcomed Harry and began going over a diagram with all kinds of lines, arrows, and crosses on it to represent plays.
Harry didn't absorb any of it, feeling his eyelids grow increasingly heavy until he felt an elbow in the arm. He blinked his eyes open to see Fred Weasley motioning for him to get up. Sure enough, Wood had finally concluded his lecture and the team was making their way towards the pitch.
Harry felt excitement surge through him as he grabbed his Nimbus 2000 and dashed to the exit. The moment he was out of the locker room and surrounded by fresh air he jumped onto his broom and took off into the air. The feeling of the wind whipping through his hair, the sight of the endless green beneath him growing more and more distant, it was like injecting caffeine into his veins. He spun around a few times, re-acclimating himself with flying once again. He heard a few cheers from below him and saw a crowd of seven Gryffindors clapping furiously in the stands. He grinned to himself and flew down to hover near them.
"Looking good, Harry! If you can keep your sorry arse out of the Hospital Wing we might actually win the Cup this year!" Seamus grinned. Harry tried to glare at him, but he couldn't stop himself from snorting.
"What's that clicking noise? Is that someone's broom?" Neville asked, looking around. Harry suddenly heard a flurry of CLICKs ringing out across the pitch, and groaned as he turned towards one of the highest sections in the stands. Sure enough, Colin Creevey was taking picture after picture.
"Secret admirer?" Pavarti asked with a giggle.
"Well, he's certainly not secret about it!" Lavender retorted, sending all of the Gryffindor crew into fits of laughter – except a dejected-looking Harry. "Oh don't look like that, Harry, everyone knows who your real admirer is!" Lavender managed to gasp out once the laughter subsided.
"Oh, don't bring my sister into this!" Ron groaned. Lavender, however, didn't acknowledge Ron's gripe, and instead gave Harry a look he couldn't quite read. He felt his eyebrows raise in confusion, but Lavender just smirked and turned back to Pavarti, giggling.
Harry thought about asking Hermione what was going on, but she had her nose buried in The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 2 so far he couldn't see her eyes, only her cheeks – pink from the early-morning chill. He shrugged, and thanked his friends for showing up before flying off to join his teammates.
"Who's the kid with a camera? I reckon he's a Slytherin spy…" Wood grumbled as the team formed a circle in the middle of the pitch.
"He's in Gryffindor." Harry sighed. He earned a few confused looks at that knowledge. "I don't know him, but I saw him get sorted." He quickly distanced himself from the over-eager spectator.
"Plus, Slytherin doesn't need a spy." George Weasley said, his tone suddenly venomous. He pointed towards the locker rooms, where seven figures in green robes were marching out of the exits and onto the Quidditch pitch. Wood launched into a furious string of swears and rocketed over to them, bellowing about how he'd booked the field. Harry flew over along with the rest of his teammates and saw Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint brandishing a piece of parchment.
"Snape signed this. It says we can use the field because we need to train our new Seeker." The green-clad Chaser grinned smugly.
"New Seeker?" Wood spat incredulously.
Flint pointed triumphantly to the smallest of the Slytherin players, a pale-faced boy with blonde hair and a vicious sneer that Harry was all too familiar with. Draco Malfoy. The bespectacled wizard couldn't believe his eyes, but then he recalled Malfoy's father threatening to cancel his order for a racing broom in Diagon Alley. He groaned, along with everyone else on the Gryffindor team.
"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred muttered with disdain.
"No, Freddie, he's Lucius Malfoy's lapdog." George sneered at the Slytherin.
"Funny you mention Draco's father," Flint said, his lips curling into an ugly smirk, "you should see what he gifted the team." He, along with his teammates, lifted his gleaming broomstick to show the silver inscription: Nimbus Two Thousand and One. "The very latest model. Faster than the Two Thousand," he threw Harry a malicious glare, "and it wipes the floor with those Cleansweeps." He gestured to the Weasley twins' brooms.
The Gryffindor team was stunned into silence, while the arrogance oozing from the Slytherins was palpable.
"What's the holdup?" A voice called from behind Harry. He turned to see the seven Gryffindor second-years were marching over. "We came to watch the best Seeker at Hogwarts fly, not a bloody staring contest!" Ron roared when he caught sight of the Slytherins.
"What's he doing here?" Neville groaned when he spotted Malfoy. The blonde scoffed as Harry's classmates lined up alongside the Quidditch players, each of them glaring with ferocity.
"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Longbottom." Malfoy sneered, and he brandished his broom once again. "This alone is probably worth more than Weasley's whole house – "
"Can it, Malfoy!" Seamus glared, tensing.
"Maybe your team can raise some gold and buy some of these for yourselves. Why don't you sign some of those photos your friend is always taking, Potter?" Malfoy continued, his voice dripping with venom. Before Harry could retort, Hermione interjected, her eyes darkening with rage.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," she said sharply. "They got in on pure talent."
Malfoy's smug expression vanished.
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood!" he spat.
Hell broke loose. Eager to defend their friend, the Gryffindor second-years whipped out their wands and aimed them at the new Seeker. Seamus and Ron were spewing profanities harsh enough to frighten a sailor. Fred and George had to be restrained by Wood and the three Gryffindor chasers – Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson – to prevent them from leaping onto Malfoy. Flint stepped in front of his new teammate protectively, but the sight of five wands and the furious Weasleys was enough to put fear in his eyes. Malfoy was sputtering incoherently, trying hard to appear brave and failing spectacularly.
Harry had never heard the word before, but it was clear it was something horrible. He looked to Hermione, who seemed equally bewildered and a bit hurt. He stepped towards her, gingerly lacing his fingers through hers and pulling her away from what was slowly becoming a brawl.
An hour later, Harry dejectedly threw his Quidditch robes into his trunk and skulked down the stairs to the common room. Hermione, Ron, and the rest of his year were occupying a slew of chairs and couches arranged in a circle. Harry slid on a couch next to Hermione, who had pulled her knees into her chest and was staring off into space.
"Ok." Harry sighed. "Someone explained what just happened."
Both teams had been kicked off the pitch by irate Professors Snape and McGonagall a few minutes after the altercation began. Snape had taken one look at the chaos and instantly gave Harry a detention, and if Hermione hadn't gripped his hand so tightly he was sure he would have decked the greasy-haired git. After Wood explained what had transpired to McGonagall, she gave Malfoy detention and docked Slytherin forty points.
Ron, who was sitting in an armchair across from Harry and Hermione, suddenly cleared his throat. "Well, you see Harry, and Hermione, the word…that Malfoy used, well – "
"It's one of the worst words someone can say against a Muggle-born." Seamus interjected, clearly still angry. He slammed his fist on his armchair before muttering to himself.
"Exactly." Ron sighed. "Some wizards - like Malfoy's family - they think they're better than everyone else because they're pure-blooded."
"But everyone with half a brain knows that's wrong!" Pavarti added, and Lavender nodded in agreement.
"Look at me, for instance." Neville, who was sitting on the armrest of Dean's chair, offered a small smile. "I'm a pure-blood and I can hardly stand my cauldron the right way up."
A few quiet chuckles were shared at that. Harry looked to Hermione to see she was still curled into a ball, her face now buried in her knees. He decided to inch closer to her, carefully wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She slowly lifted her head and her eyes were shining with tears. He felt his stomach plummet at the sight and gave her a gentle squeeze. She offered him a small smile and rested her chin on her knee.
"Hermione, if anyone even thinks about calling you that again, you know all of Gryffindor's got your back." Dean said, earning nods from everyone. "Especially if it's that prat."
"Plus, Harry's more than happy to knock Malfoy off his broom when they play each other, right Harry?" Ron smirked.
"Please, I'll send him into the Great Lake." Harry grinned, and Hermione's smile widened.
"Thanks guys." She managed in a hoarse whisper. "Really, thank you."
There was silence for a minute or two, with Harry absent-mindedly rubbing Hermione's shoulder as he thought about the different ways he could hex Malfoy into oblivion.
"Well!" Ron said suddenly. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm – "
"Hungry." The other seven Gryffindors sighed in exasperation. Ron bristled as he stood up, his ears turning pink.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am hungry." Ron crossed his arms.
"Shocking…" Hermione mumbled, earning snickers from her house-mates.
"Well, I'm certainly glad it was my appetite that got you back to your right self." Ron grinned. "Instead of, oh, I don't know, each of us telling you we'd jinx all of Slytherin into a different dimension for you."
"Is he still talking?" Lavender mused as she looked at her fingernails, eliciting outright laughter from several of her classmates.
"I'll be at breakfast." Ron huffed sarcastically, and most of the Gryffindors followed him out. Hermione made no effort to move off the couch, and Harry decided to stay with her.
"I'm sorry, Hermione." He finally said. "I'm the reason you were down there, it's my fault that – "
"Harry, it's not your fault Malfoy's a git." Hermione sighed as she slowly uncurled herself. "Yes, if you didn't have Quidditch practice I wouldn't have been there. I wouldn't have been around Malfoy, and he wouldn't have called me that." Harry winced, and felt his stomach drop to the floor once again before she continued. "But you seem to be forgetting it was my idea to be there in the first place."
"Well – "
"Honestly, Harry, being insulted by that smarmy bigot isn't the problem, anyway."
"You being called the worst word in the magical world isn't a problem?"
"Alright, true, that was not ideal. But, the real problem I have is that Malfoy thinks like that. That there are a lot of wizards who think like that." Hermione sighed and leaned her head on Harry's shoulder.
"So it's the mindset, then?"
"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." She responded, her tone now deadly serious. Harry was taken aback by his friend's sudden change in demeanor. Her eyes had darkened with a steely determination, and her features hardened intensely. It wasn't like she had changed into a completely different person, but it was like she unlocked something. It was like every ounce of tenacity she ever showed in the classroom was channeled into a newfound ferocity. To Harry, she looked badass.
"Whoa…" Harry said before he could stop himself. He had barely registered what Hermione had said, instead found himself transfixed by her resolve. She lifted her head and turned to him inquisitively, and he felt his entire body flood with panic. "S-sorry, just, that's a good saying." He stammered, and Hermione nodded distractedly. She returned her head to his shoulder, and Harry's panic was replaced with a calming sensation that made him feel like he was sinking into the couch cushions.
"I like it too." She said after a peaceful silence. "It's from Letter from a Birmingham Jail, by Martin Luther King Jr."
"That's cool." Harry muttered, his attention solely on the brown hair that tickled his cheek. Hermione exhaled, and somehow leaned closer into his side. Harry swore she nuzzled her head against his shoulder, and he felt his heart rate spike.
"Aren't you hungry? I know you were only flying for a few minutes, but still. You haven't eaten."
"I'm fine where I am. You?"
"Never better."