After she came down from her second high, only half conscious, Susan and Daphne helped Hermione to the shallow end of the bath, where she promptly took a seat in the water, catching her breathe.
It was Susan's turn next, it took a bit more work, but he and Daphne were able to get her into a similar position as Hermione, this time with her shoulders and head supported on the side of the bath, as the water came up to just about level with the rim of it.
When he was presented with Susan's rather delectable assets, Harry decided that he would take his time with her, as it was likely her first time with a boy, and he wanted to make it good for her. Despite what his raging libido was telling him, he took it slowly, gently. He began with her thighs, working the soap over them, then down to the cheeks of her rather firm, yet generous rump, taking the time to massage each globe of muscle with his hands and the sponge, smiling to himself as he listened to Susan's moans. He noticed how there was no hair on her lips, or between her cheeks, only on her mons, something he was mildly thankful for. Once she was covered, he leaned in and started to lick.
"Go on Harry, give her the special treatment. Use that magic tongue of yours." Daphne panted.
"Yes…Harry…please…PleaaaAAAHH!" Susan's pleas turned into a cry of delight when Harry started to hiss into the firm flesh of her bum as he playfully bit the muscle he was working over with his mouth. Then he moved to the other cheek and repeated the process, smiling at the girl's passionate moans and cries, then he moved up to her pussy and started to show her what a Parselmouth could really do.
And promptly nearly lost all sense of hearing as Susan shrieked at the top of her lungs, and Harry suddenly found himself hoping the walls and door were sound-proof. Though that thought was knocked aside when Susan reached down and grabbed his head, and pressed his face hard into her womanhood.
"YesyesyesyesyesYESYEYESYES!" Susan chanted as she gasped for breath, eyes wide as plates as she stared down at the boy she held against her crotch. Harry opened his eyes and looked back up at her, telegraphing his own lust and desire for her when burning green met smouldering blue. He moved his tongue down and plunged it as deep as he could into her clenching passage, humming at the delicious taste of treacle tart coating his questing tongue.
Susan's head rolled back and to the side as her eyes closed, a deep moan escaping her as her body shook from the powerful orgasm still rippling through her, so overwhelmed that she lost track of what he was doing between her legs as that vibrating tongue moved over her swollen nub, then traced along the back of her inner lips, then between them and her outer lips, then one final time over her outer lips, before he moved down, brushing over her perineum, which made her hips tremble in anticipation, then with another gasp, she felt that wonderful tongue circle her tight ring, which twitched in response, then gently pushed inside, causing another keen to escape her open mouth, her eyes had long since rolled into her head and closed, but that didn't stop her from seeing stars as she revelled in the pleasure her back passage was receiving.
No wonder Hermione had screamed loud enough for all of Gryffindor to hear her. The entire dorm could probably hear them right now.
As Susan's climax started to abate, Harry dialled down his attention, focusing more on the firm globes of muscle he held in his hands as her panting slowed, and she finally caught her breath, then he lower her into the water and helped her stand up. He barely noticed Daphne's wand just in front of his mouth as she muttered a brief spell, and a cool breeze filled his mouth, along with the taste of mint, then Susan lunged forward and snogged him.
When she eventually pulled back, she looked exhausted, but happy.
"That was wonderful Harry, we're definitely doing this again. Right now though, I think I'll go sit down with Hermione and catch my breath, there's one last horny nymph that needs your attention though. Give it to her good, stud."
As Susan half swam, half staggered towards the shallow end of the bath, Daphne moved in, grinning. Enveloping him in a tight hug, their naked fronts pressed together, Daphne leaned in and kissed him roughly as her legs locked round his waist, and she started to grind against his two shafts, humming in approval as she did so. In response, Harry reached down to cup her rather fine arse, his hands gripping it tightly.
"So, Miss Greengrass, how do you want to do this?" he asked in a low tone that he hoped was enticing enough. Daphne looked at him through hooded eyes, her face flushed.
"Well Mister Potter, I'm tempted to take one of those two Firebolts you're packing for a ride…but, I think I'll settle for some of what you just gave the Buxom Badger." Then she moved to the side of the bath and hauled herself out, until she was positioned on her hands and knees, rear facing him, her feet hanging over the edge of the bath. She arched her back and pushed her hips back, spreading her legs. The position opened her up, letting him see everything. "Soap me up, then lick me down." Daphne giggled in a sing-song voice.
So Harry did just that. Lifting himself out of the water to sit beside her, she sat up, and turned to face him as best she could, and he smiled as he brought the sponge to her pert breasts, and started to work at them, taking the opportunity to massage her as well. The blonde hummed in contentment, closing her eyes and pushing her chest out into his hands. Soon he moved down to her shoulders, under her arms then to her stomach, then she turned away and let him do her back. When he moved to her waist, she stopped him.
"Lick the soap off me first, then do the rest of me."
"Come 'ere." He growled, pulling her in, his head lowering to one of her breasts as her arms went round him.
As he diligently suckled and licked her breasts clean, he hummed as one of her hands descended to his crotch, her fingers dancing along the length of both shafts, seemingly undecided about which one to go for. Eventually she settled on one and started to gently stroke it as Harry licked his way up to her shoulders and started cleaning them also. Eventually, she was forced to release her hold on him, which she did with extreme reluctance, as he coaxed her up into a kneeling position, so he could get at her stomach. She squirmed and giggled as he let a bit of his Parseltongue technique into the play when he reached her navel, almost making her fall over as her body started to tremble.
Once he'd got all he could from her front, she turned her back and he repeated the process, holding her steady as she again squirmed and laughed as his tongue tickled it's way down her spine, just as she had done to him. 'A little payback.' He thought with a grin. Finally, once he'd gotten all he could, she moved into position, on her hands and knees again, arching her back and pushing her hips back, while he got down into the water, which was surprisingly still rather warm.
It didn't take him long to coat her hips, buttocks, vagina, legs and feet. These self-soaping sponges were a god-send. Harry then grinned to himself as he took Daphne's left foot in his hand.
"Harry? What are — Eeep!" Daphne squeaked as she felt his tongue start to brush over the sole of her foot, sending a tingling spike of sensation up her leg then spine. While Harry usually didn't pay much attention to Hermione's feet when they 'fed' or played, Daphne had insisted he do all of her.
After a few minutes, he moved on to the firm muscle of her calf, then up to her thigh. Expecting him to move to the main event, she pushed her hips a little further back, reaching back with her hands open herself up for him more, only to groan in disappointment when he only delivered a quick, chaste kiss to her ring before moving on to her right leg, this time starting with her thigh, and working his way down to her foot.
A splash behind him heralded the approach of his other two lovers, and he briefly turned to them, raising an eyebrow as he noticed the white shampoo suds in both of their matted locks of hair, as Hermione reached forward, smiling, a large puddle of shampoo in her palm. Deciding to move this along, sensing that the whole event was coming to a conclusion, Harry decided to finally give Daphne what she was craving as he felt Hormone and Susan both start to work their hands through his messy hair, then he leaned forward, and started licking his blonde lover.
As with Susan, it didn't take long for Daphne to reach her peak, thanks to the curse, the lust potion and all the buildup she'd had, and soon, she was shaking, struggling to stay upright as she encouraged Harry to feast on her, relishing the feel of his Parseltongue, and finally understanding how he was so good. Harry did his best to hold her hips steady as he worked, enjoying the feel of Hermione and Susan pressing in against his back as he licked Daphne from her clit up to her lower back, then, when he sensed her about to erupt, he closed his mouth over her lower lips as a flood of warm, sweet liquid filled his mouth.
Things soon became a blur of interlocking arms, mouths and legs after that. After he brought Daphne to her peak focusing on her perky rear, as he had done to Susan and Hermione, he helped the limp, barely conscious blond down into the water, where he and the other two washed her hair for her, then did each other.
Above them, on the wall painting, the mermaids watched the activities with keen interest, their hands busily massaging each others breasts, and one or two even letting their hands roam lower on their partners, giggling to themselves as they watched the four humans play.
Then, after a brief rest, they decided to finally call it a night, summarily declaring their first four-way a rousing (and arousing) success. Almost reluctantly, they climbed out of the bath, dried each other with great care and diligence, then headed for their warm, large bed.
Sunday, December 4th, 1994
Harry stirred, feeling wonderfully warm. He was laying in his and Hermione's bed, Hermione to his left, and two other bodies with them. He blinked as he saw a mop of dark red hair resting on his chest, and a blonde head to his right. All three girls were as naked as he was.
'So…that hadn't been a really nice dream…' he thought to himself. He heard a faint giggle in his head from Hermione.
'No, lover, it definitely was not a dream. Mmm…this is nice.'
Yes, it was. He wanted to stay in this bed, but he knew they'd have to get up and face the day eventually.
-=-=-=-
Fleur stepped out into the cold of the early December afternoon, Gabrielle at her side, leading the way she guided her sister back towards the Carriage, smiling as they passed the large beautiful horses as they snorted, their muzzles buried in a large trough filled with whisky.
Her sister's birthday was coming up soon, and she knew that Gabby would want to have their mother there at least.
For a brief moment, she considered taking Gabrielle up to the castle and investigating the special room Harry had told her about, but decided against it, it wouldn't do to show a curious, and mischievous, young Veela on the cusp of her Awakening a room that could create anything.
Not to mention she didn't want her little sister getting lost in that castle.
As they approached the Carriage, Fleur went to the hidden entrance that lead directly to her quarters, rather than go in through the main doors.
"Fleur?" Gabrielle asked, looking up at her sister curiously as they entered the warm room, a fire already burning in the fireplace.
"You and I need to have a little chat, don't worry, you're not in trouble, I just need to talk to you about that article in the paper the other day, the one about 'Arry and 'Ermione's relationship." Fleur said in French, sitting on her bed and pulling Gabby up onto her lap.
"Oh, that." Gabby said, her face colouring in a blush. Fleur grit her teeth as she felt Gabrielle's allure start to flare up, reaching out in a way Fleur recognised. So Gabrielle had read it.
"Yes. That."
"That Skeeter lady doesn't sound very nice." Gabby spoke up after a moment. Fleur nodded.
"She's not. She wrote about things that were very private between two people who love each other, things that should not be in a public paper." Fleur replied firmly. Her sister nodded.
"But people have sex all the time in public back home. Then again, she also insulted you. That I really didn't like." The little girl growled, scowling.
"Yes, she did, but I'm a big girl, I can take it. And while it is perfectly normal for veela and their mates and studs to have sex in public back home, here, it is not so accepted." Fleur said, drawling the younger girl in for a reassuring hug.
As Gabrielle hugged her back, letting out a slight giggle, Fleur's mind raced, she knew that Gabrielle hadn't been given 'the talk' yet, she wasn't old enough for that. While her veela physiology had started to manifest, it was rather light at the moment, just her allure making her look 'cute'. But Fleur knew it wouldn't be long before she started to notice boys and start to pay more attention to them in a specific sort of ways. And started asking questions.
For the first time, Fleur wondered if it would be best if her mother sent Gabrielle to a proper veela-run school back home, rather than Beauxbatons Academy. It would certainly give her sister a good support base for when her veela physiology fully manifested beyond her allure, and would give her access to more learning resources and classes that Fleur herself never got, as she had attended Beauxbatons, as her mother had.
"Have you figured out your egg yet?" Gabby asked, looking up at her. Fleur sighed and shook her head.
"No. I've been too busy focusing on other things at the moment." The older blonde replied, turning to look at the golden egg, which lay under a pile of discarded blankets. "How have you been anyway? I've seen you playing with the Hogwarts First Years."
Gabrielle nodded, "Uh huh, they're fun, even if English is hard to speak properly." The girl snorted. Fleur chuckled, nodding.
-=-=-=-
Thursday December 8th, 1994
Flitwick walked briskly through the corridors, heading back to his office after the evening dinner. He had some paperwork to finish before he turned in for the night. Someone had pranked the First Years by putting a Confundus charm on the entrance to Ravenclaw, making it impossible for them to answer the guardian's riddles. It had been brought to his attention pretty quickly, and fortunately, he'd been able to undo it relatively easily, but he'd still been rather annoyed.
He'd questioned his students, even tracked down the Weasley Twins and questioned them, though they had alibis.
"What's the matter Loony? Still can't find your dumb necklace? Why even bother?" a voice came from around the corner ahead of him. He came to a stop, eyes narrowing. He recognised that voice. Palming his wand, he disillusioned himself, silenced his shoes, then slowly stepped forward until he rounded the corner.
In front of him were three students. Luna Lovegood, Marietta Edgecombe and Margot Smythe.
Luna was on the ground, looking back up at the other two girls owlishly.
"And just what is this?" Filius growled as he revealed himself, glaring at the two standing girls who looked up, their eyes going wide, their faces going white.
He stepped forward, and the girls stepped backward, as Luna steadily got to her feet.
Flitwick's steely gaze moved over the three girls, before settling on the two aggressors and his gaze hardened. He raised a hand.
"Ladies. Wands."
Reluctantly, the two older girls surrendered their wands, realising they had little choice in the matter.
"Go to my office and wait for me. If you are not there when I arrive, I will track you both down and carry you to Dumbledore's office. Now go." The two older girls mumbled their ascent, then turned and shuffled off. Sighing, Flitwick turned to Luna who smiled at him serenely.
"Thank you Professor." She said in that airy, calm voice.
"How long has this been going on Miss Lovegood?" Flitwick asked gently.
"Since I started here. They don't believe me about the things I see, sometimes my passions will go missing, but will eventually turn up. I'm pretty sure it's Nargles, they like to steal things, you know."
Filius grit his teeth, suppressing a snarl of rage. Why hadn't this been brought to his attention by the Prefects? Well, he would soon see to that oversight, and probably have to appoint some new Prefects. Sighing to mask his anger, he turned and smiled kindly at the young girl.
"Miss Lovegood, from now on, if any more of your possessions go missing, or if anyone treats you poorly, no matter who they are or what House they're in, please come to me, and I will deal with it."
Luna blinked at him again in that rather odd way, then smiled and nodded. "I will sir."
"Excellent. Now, run along, I have to go deal with those two, then I need to address the rest of my Ravens, don't worry, I won't let them hurt you again." And with that, he turned and headed for his office, as Luna turned and walked off, heading for Ravenclaw Tower, humming a little tune to herself.
Saturday, December 10th 1994
Diagon Alley
Harry strolled down Diagon, wondering where would be the best place to shop for the girls' Christmas presents, taking a moment to double check the money he had in his pouch that he kept hidden in his robes. It was the money left over from the school run before the start of term, and he was momentarily glad he'd managed to save that much. Hermione was relatively easy to get for, any rare book would probably go over well with her. Daphne and Susan, and Luna, they were the real challenge.
For a moment, he thought about getting Ron something, at least something to try and bridge the gap that seemed to have formed between them of late. Ever since Daphne and Susan had joined Gryffindor, Ron had become even more distant, barely talking to any of them. Though he wasn't as cold and hostile to Daphne as he had been right after Malfoy's attack and arrest, but he was still some what stand-offish, and had been in a funk all morning, likely still moping over his failed 'attempt' to ask Fleur to the ball.
The girls had already gone ahead to Malkin's to get fitted, though Daphne said she was going to send a letter home and ask her mother for something.
He paused, coming to a stop as he spied a particular building ahead of him, eyes narrowing as he grit his teeth.
The Daily Prophet's Headquarters.
Anger surged through him and he clenched his fists, remembering Skeeter's articles that had dragged his and Hermione's name through the mud over the years, especially the most recent ones about their relationship.
Even for someone with his social status, there should be a limit on what the press were allowed access to. He also wanted the names of her 'sources'.
His resolve set, Harry flicked his wand over his body, casting an glamour charm on himself, changing his appearance, after checking it in his reflection in a nearby show window, he turned and marched up to the main door of the Prophet building and opened it, finding himself in a large foyer, there were people buzzing around, paper aeroplanes whizzing back and forth, several staff buzzed around, some heading towards a door marked PRINTING PRESSES - STAFF ONLY, holding folded sheets of paper, others were heading towards a closed door that read OWL DISPATCH/RETURNS - STAFF ONLY. Finally, there was a door to the left of the reception desk marked OFFICES - STAFF ONLY.
Stepping forward, he approached the reception desk.
"Um, excuse me? Could you tell me where I can find the Chief Editor?" he asked.
The receptionist, a rather nice looking young witch in her early 20s looked up from the parchment she was filling out and smiled at him.
"Sure, I'll let him know. Can I have your name?" she asked, as she reached to press a button on the desk intercom.
Harry thought for a moment, before remembering an old movie Petunia sometimes liked to watch on the TV that he'd heard a few items through the cupboard door.
"Bond. James Bond."
The witch paused, her eyes turning to fix on him critically, before slowly roaming up and down his robes. That he was still wearing his school robes wasn't apparent under the disillusioned disguise he was using. Then her eyes flicked up to his face and she smirked at him.
"Very funny." She quipped.
'Bugger, is she a muggleborn?' he thought. She then pressed the button on the intercom, and Harry wondered what was powering it. Hogwarts certainly didn't have anything like this.
"Mister Cuffe? A Mister Bond is here to see you."
"Alright Sarah, send him on in." A voice came through the intercom.
"Okay, just go through this door here and head down the hall, you can't miss his office."
"Thank you." Harry replied.
As he stepped into the hall and started walking, he took note of the various names printed on the closed doors. None of which he recognized. Except one.
SKEETER, R
Fury burned within him, he was sorely tempted to open that door and destroy the office within, regardless if the woman was present or not, and if she were…but no, going after her boss and getting him to pull on her leash was the better option.
Eventually he found the door he was looking for.
CUFFE, B - EDITOR
Steeling himself, Harry squared his shoulders and knocked twice.
"Enter!" came a voice from the other side.
His expression going neutral, Harry opened the door and stepped in.
Bananas Cuffe was sat at his desk, shuffling several pages of paper in his hands, likely checking over the next edition for publication.
"Ah, Mr Bond is it? Come in! What can I do for…" Cuffe's greeting was cut off when the figure, who seemed to be wearing a rather nice looking suit with short immaculately brushed black hair and blue eyes suddenly took out a wand and waved it at the door. Cuffe recognized the locking charm and several silencing and privacy charms. The man then turned to Cuffe, and after regarding him for a moment, waved his wand over his own body, and Barnabas blinked several times as the man before him morphed into Harry Potter, scar and all.
"We need to talk." Harry said evenly.
Barnabas gulped. He was no stranger to getting confronted by angry wizards and witches who had their private affairs, literal and figurative, aired across the pages of the Prophet, but he never once considered he'd be facing Harry Potter, the boy who had apparently tamed a dragon, among other things.
"Um…of course, of course, please, uh, have a seat." Barnabas said, gesturing to the chair opposite his own.
Harry eyed it for a moment, then stepped forward and took a seat.
"So ah, Mister Potter, what can I do for you? And shouldn't you be in Hogwarts?"
"Special Hogsmeade weekend, I'm in Diagon getting my dress robes for the Yule Ball ordered, but I thought I'd come here first." Harry replied evenly, his face still neutral, but Barnabas could clearly see the anger simmering just below the boy's evenly managed expression.
"As for why I'm here, well." Harry leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk, his eyes locked with Barnabas in what he hoped was an intimidation tactic he'd seen Snape use before on many students. It galled him to use such a tactic, but he needed to make sure Barnabas didn't just blow him off.
"I want Rita Skeeter muzzled. On a leash. Caged. Shackled. Reined in. Brought to heel. Whatever expression you want to use, I don't care, I just want that muck-raking hack's ability to hurt people restrained."
"Hurt people? That's going a bit overboard isn't it?"
Harry's eyes narrowed to slits as he leaned forward, making sure to dampen his mental link to Hermione, so she wouldn't pick up on his anger and worry, even though the link wasn't fully formed yet, though she had said that by the time March came around, it likely would be, if they hadn't already bonded by then.
"Do you know the damage your last few articles about me have caused to those closest to me? Specifically the one that painted the most intimate details of my relationship with my girlfriend across the entire rag of a publication for all of magical England to read?!" he snarled, his voice raising in fury. Then with a dismissing snort, he sat back and glared at Cuffe. "Of course you do. You review every copy of the Prophet for publication, there is no way those articles didn't go to print without you first approving them. Or are you so inept that you let your staff just write whatever the hell they want and just shove it into the printing presses without any review?"
Cuff gulped, and he felt sweat start to bead across his skin.
Harry rolled his eyes, "Then again, considering the utter lunacy of some of Rita's articles; the sloppy mistakes, misquotes and blatant lies and false information she puts in them, I actually think it's the latter. Because if its the former, well then you clearly don't fact-check anything, do you."
Cuffe settled his mouth in a thin line. Usually when someone came in to rant at him, they didn't accuse him of being incompetent or lazy, they either threatened him or offered him a bribe.
Sometimes both.
He tried desperately to think of a way to explain those articles. Yes, he'd read them, yes he'd approved them. He'd asked Rita how she'd managed to get such details, but the woman had just smiled sweetly and said she couldn't reveal them, as she'd risk losing them.
"I know you're angry Mister Potter…Rita…she's one of my most skilled reporters."
"Right." Harry replied sarcastically, folding his arms. "I won't bother asking who her sources were for that particular article, I have a feeling I know, and if I'm right, they're already where they belong."
Harry paused for a moment and rolled his eyes. "She didn't even get details on me right after our first interview, for Merlin's sake. How does she still have a job here? On second thought, best you don't answer that, I don't want to know the sordid details of her sex life, even if all of Britain now knows mine thanks to her."
Cuffe spluttered, taken aback by the insinuation Harry had just leveled at him.
Harry suddenly smirked, "Or do you keep her around because of all the dirt she has on you?"
Cuffe flinched. Harry grinned.
"Thought so."
"Now see here young man. I can't just dismiss her, she'd make sure I and half the people working here go down with her." The man protested.
"I'm not asking you to fire her, while that could go a long way to improving the validity of your articles, I'm just asking you to put her on a leash. Maybe one with a shock-collar on the end of it." Harry replied, before leaning forward and putting his arms on the desk, regarding Cuffe with a critical eye.
"Does anyone here even like her? Does she have any friends? I ask because, according to the article you published after she interviewed all of us, it was clear no-one bothered to properly translate what Fleur said to her, which wasn't very flattering, by the way, but Rita obviously doesn't speak French, or she would have known what Fleur said. Yet no-one corrected Rita's assumption."
Cuffe sighed.
"Yes, Rita doesn't have many friends here, if any, but she does have someone in the Ministry backing her, I've tried to look into who, but I can't find anything."
"Hmm…backed by someone in the ministry who doesn't like me? Well, that's probably most of them. I know Malfoy must be pissed at me right now." Harry snorted, rolling his eyes. "Bloke got his arse handed to him by a house elf, so he can't be all that impressive."
Harry then looked at his watch and stood, "I can't really stay much longer, I do have other things I need to take care of, but I was serious Mister Cuffe. I don't care what it takes, I want Skeeter reined in."
And with that, he waved his wand over himself, reestablishing the disguise he'd warn when he walked in, then turned and left without another word or look back.
When he was gone, Cuffe sat back in his chair and sighed with relief. That had gone better than it could have. Now he just had to find a way to reel Rita in, and hope that he held more sway over her than whoever was backing her in the ministry.
-=-=-=-
As soon as Harry was out of the Daily Prophet building, he quickly ducked into a small alcove and dropped the disguise, then stepped back out into the street.
Diagon Alley really was a nice place, the snow covered the ground, creating a pure, almost unbroken plain of white. There were young children, most too young to attend Hogwarts, milling around and throwing snowballs, though he did spot a Hogwarts kids milling about.
For a moment, he thought about stepping into Madam Malkin's to get his Ball robes fitted, but he wanted to give the girls their time, plus there was a chance that if he did go in there, they'd end up fooling around in one of the changing rooms. While the idea of doing that did appeal to him on a certain level, there was no way they wouldn't get caught, and last thing he wanted was to get barred from Malkin's.
Harry paused as he eyed the bookstore along on the south facing side of Diagon Alley.
Obscurus Books
He'd never actually been in there before, but now, maybe it was worth a look. Maybe he'd find something for Hermione. Harry walked across the street and entered the store.
The smell of leather and old parchment hit him as soon as he was in the door, the air was warm and cozy, and was certainly a nice change from the cold outside. There were bookcases everywhere, he started browsing the different sections.
After some searching, he eventually found something for her, a rare First-Edition copy of an advanced spell book, one he was pretty sure she didn't have. He'd closed the link to the others, so they couldn't snoop on his shopping, they'd also done the same, by mutual agreement.
It was then that he remembered what he'd heard about there being a book series about him.
It took a bit of searching, but he eventually found what he was looking for, a series of books with rather obvious titles, and he was surprised he hadn't noticed them before. His fingers glided over one of the books as he tilted his head to read the title:
The Adventures of the Boy-Who-Lived! Book 5: The Boy-Who-Lived and the Troll!
Harry picked up the book and started leafing through it.
By the time he reached the end, he didn't know whether to burn the book in disgust, or laugh out loud at the sheer amateurish writing style of the author.
The book was full of inconsistencies; such as, early on in the book, the main protagonist, which was obviously meant to be him, almost gets killed trying to fight the troll with his bare hands, and yet, by the end of the book, when saving the obligatory damsel in distress, who in this case, was a red-head pure-blood, he was able to subdue it by pretending a stick he was holding was a wand, and the Troll was just dumb enough to believe him.
Oh, and in this book, The-Boy-Who-Lived was only 5 years old.
Harry scoffed, shutting the book and almost throwing it on the floor in disgust. He then turned and scanned the rest of the books. There were ten. He grabbed the last one and started leafing through that.
By the time he was finished, he was almost shaking with rage. The book had been published 6 months before he received his acceptance letter, and ended with the Boy-Who-Lived getting an actual wand, which also happened to contain a Phoenix feather, boarding the train, and head off to Hogwarts to start more Great Adventures.
He made a mental note of the name of the author, and decided he would arrange a meeting, during the first Hogsmeade Weekend of the new year, and grill them for information, if it didn't slip his mind.
He quickly leafed through the other books, and quickly noticed things that both infuriated him and honestly creeped him out: The Boy-Who-Lived was living with his Muggle Relatives, who were never named, but they showered the hero with praise, love and care. His home life was full of fun, friends and a loving family.
And the heroines who helped him, or needed saving, they all had one thing in common: They were all Pure-bloods, or half-bloods, never Muggleborns. If Muggleborns were ever mentioned, they were usually side characters with little to no character to them, and they almost never contributed to the plot of the stories, though there were a few instances where they were nothing more than Comedy Relief characters; sharing their stories of the Muggle world, which were laughably inaccurate.
Who ever had written these books, had gotten some details right, but a lot of details wrong.
And what was worse, these books had apparently been penned as being 'Based on a true story!'
By the time he was done, he was shaking. With fury, with grief, with indignation.
Someone had written a mockery of his childhood, and passed it off as being based on a true story. And had somehow gotten enough information to get some details accurate, such as his scar and his eyes, and the physical descriptions of the Dursleys, if not their names.
But everything else the books described about his home life was so far off point he didn't know whether to laugh, cry or scream in anger and set fire to the entire collection, damn what the shop keeper would say.
After wiping his eyes and taking several deep breaths to calm himself, he looked again at the books, wondering how many people had bought these, read them and actually believed them. It certainly explained a lot of the reactions he'd gotten when he'd first entered the magical world. Why they'd all expected him to know certain things, such as Snape. He took another look at the bookcase.
There were other books too, which judging by their titles, seemed to be written about the Muggle World. He didn't need to read them to know they were horribly inaccurate, or worse, made a mockery of the wider world. Another thing that was horribly inaccurate in all of the books about him, was the calendar: Apparently, the author not being able to read a calendar properly was about the only consistent thing about the dates marked in the books. The school year started on September 1st, as it did in Hogwarts, but, in these books, of which there were seven main ones, three supplementary. September 1st was ALWAYS on a Monday, regardless of the actual calendar year.
Harry looked again at the series of books about-yet-not-about him, and double checked the name of the author, a 'Robert Galbraith'.
'Better write that down.' He thought.
'Are you alright Harry?' Hermione asked across the link, 'You seemed pretty upset for a few minutes.'
'I'm okay, just found some fictional books that are apparently about me, some of the details are very accurate, some not, but it's all very disturbing.' Replied Harry.
Daphne snorted. 'Oh, those. Yeah, they're kids books, popular ones too.'
'Yes, I've read them, I don't like them. I don't like how they portray Muggle-borns.' Hermione said. 'I wasn't sure whether to find them patronising or insulting.'
'GASP!' Susan said with a giggle, and despite his mood, Harry couldn't help but grin as he started browsing the bookshelves for something for Hermione. 'Hermione Granger found books she doesn't get wet reading? Is it the end of the world or something?'
'Har har.' Hermione replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
'Luna says she likes them, though finds them a bit too outlandish to believe, even by our standards, and in the later books, some of the plot and characterisation is a complete MESS.' Daphne added.
'And they make a complete mockery of my childhood.' Harry growled.
A sense of empathy and compassion brushed against his mind and he smiled. 'Thanks girls. I appreciate it.'
After calming down, which took quite a while, Harry left the bookstore empty-handed, figuring he'd find something else for Hermione, and he wanted to put as much distance between himself and those insults to his childhood as he could.
After a few minutes of pondering, he turned and headed towards Gringotts, emerging 10 minutes later with a fair amount of converted Pound notes, he then headed for the Leaky Cauldron, heading into London proper. It didn't take him long to find a jewellery store.
He emerged from the store nearly 20 minutes later carrying the items he'd picked out not only for Hermione, Daphne and Susan, but Luna as well.
Quickly returning to Diagon Alley, he made his way to Gringotts and asked the Goblins to enchant the items he'd bought with various protection and anti-theft charms or rune wards, which ever would be easier to do within a week. After sorting out the details, the Goblins had assured him the items would be ready the following Saturday. Once he was done there, he headed for the Quidditch supplies shop, paused for a moment to lament on the loss of his Firebolt, got a congratulatory, and sympathetic, pat on the shoulder from the shop's owner, he picked out a couple of themed Quidditch Jerseys, one baring the logo of the Chudley Cannons, the other, the Hollyhead Harpies.
He then sent an owl to each team, asking them if they would be kind enough to sign the Jerseys for their respective recipients.
Then once he was done with that, headed for Madam Malkin's.
-=-=-=-
Thursday, December 15th, 1994
Harry ground his teeth as he sorted through the old detention cards that Snape had ordered him to transcribe and refile, in alphabetical order, and without magic.
The cards that he'd been ordered to sort just so happened to have his father's and Sirius' names on them, with the occasional addition of Lupin's and Wormtail's thrown in for good measure.
He honestly wasn't sure why he was bothering with this. He hadn't actually done anything wrong that would warrant a detention with Snape, but the greasy-haired bastard had been practically foaming at the mouth ever since Draco's arrest and had been waiting for the slightest opportunity to pounce.
Idly Harry started to let his mind wander, and conjure illusions and fantasies around ways he could humiliate, insult, or just get rid of Snape.
"What are you grinning at Potter?" the man in question growled form his desk, "Do you find looking over the records of your father's past crimes amusing?"
"No sir." Harry replied in an even tone, making sure not to look up at the man while he heard Hermione sigh in the back of his mind.
'Honestly Harry…'
The fantasy in question that had caused him to start smiling involved Snape being overcome by potion fumes in his own lab, and either dropping to the floor unconscious where he would then proceed to suffocate from those same fumes filling the room, to mental images of him being so overcome by the fumes that he'd end up falling face first into the various concoctions and drown in his own cauldron.
"POTTER!" Snape roared.
Harry blinked, realising that his little episode of mental entertainment had been unfortunately broadcast to the person who starred in it when he noticed he was looking into the dark eyes of that man in question. The same dark eyes that were now filled with fury and resentment.
Snape's face was hard, lips in a thin line as he glared at the son of the man he hated most of all.
"I suggest." Snape's tone was ice cold, "That you keep what passes as a functioning mind on your work, lest you find yourself here again for a repeat session."
A sudden knock at the door heralded the arrival of a Slytherin Harry didn't recognise.
"Yes? What is it?" Snape barked, glaring at the intruder.
"Er, sorry to interrupt Sir, but Montague has got himself into some trouble. We think it might be the Weasley Twins."
"Those meddlesome little rodents." Snape growled under his breathe, unaware, or uncaring, that Harry heard him. "Potter. I will be back shortly. Do not leave this room." And before Harry could respond, not that he was really going to anyway, Snape marched out of the room, following the other student.
"Bat-faced greasy-haired git." Harry grumbled.
'I know it's difficult, but please don't try to antagonise him. Last thing we need is him giving you detentions for the rest of the school year.' Hermione replied. Harry closed his eyes and sighed.
'I know Hermione, but he doesn't make it easy.'
It was then that he noticed the door to Snape's private office was open.
'Careful Harry, you have no idea what he might have in there.'
Though his girlfriend's advice was sound, Harry was still curious. He stepped closer to the door, noticing a strange blue glow. Pushing the door open, he noticed the large ornate stone bowl on the desk, with the shimmering silvery-blue liquid swirling in it.
'That's a Pensieve. They're used to store and review memories. You dunk your head in and you can see the memory play back.' Hermione supplied.
'Figures you'd know what it is.' Harry smiled, playfully rolling his eyes. 'So it works like how the Diary did that one time?'
'Sort of, though from what I've read, you can actually control the playback of the memory, supposedly. Voldemort must have used similar spells when he created the diary. That's incredibly advanced magic. You need a Mastery in Charms and Runes before you can start learning how to make one of these.'
Despite himself, Harry couldn't help but feel a tiny shred of respect for the level of intelligent Voldemort must have demonstrated at 16 to make that Diary. Either that, or the spells were very easy, or easy to find.
Casting his gaze over the room, Harry noticed an old cupboard that was not fully closed, and on the floor there were a couple of old books, he stepped over and opened the door, kneeling to pick one of them up, then closing the door again.
He looked down at the book in his hand.
Advanced Potion-making by Libatius Forage
In his head, he heard Hermione let out a whistle, 'That's a NEWT level potions book Harry, I don't think you'll have need of that just yet.'
"Still might be useful to go through." He muttered. "Isn't there a way to copy this book so Snape doesn't know I have it?" he wondered aloud.
A faint pop answered him and he turned to find Dobby standing next to him grinning and holding an identical-looking book.
"Dobby be helping Harry Potter sir!" the little elf squeaked.
Harry smiled and pointed to the book he held, "Could you make a copy of this for me? So He of Bad Hygiene and Unwashed Hair doesn't know I have this?"
Dobby grinned, and snapped his fingers, vanishing with another pop, only to reappear a few seconds later with an identical looking book. With another snap of his fingers, Harry saw the cover of the book change to match the one he know held. He then stashed the book in his bag, replacing it with the copy Dobby had just given him.
"Thanks Dobby." Harry said, the little elf nodded, then with another pop, was gone. Harry then turned his attention to the Pensieve on the desk, taking a cautionary step towards it, then he leaned over.
"Sooo…how's this supposed to work?" He asked the empty room.
'Susan says to stick your head in the liquid, and it'll physically pull you into the memory that's being stored.' Hermione replied, 'She also says that you can tell if there's a memory in one depending on if it's glowing or not. Though apparently, if you stick your head in an empty Pensieve, you end up in a black void. Which honestly sounds rather terrifying in itself.'
Harry decided to take a breath and dunked his head in the liquid. He felt a sucking sensation pull him forward and he momentarily panicked as he felt his feet leave the floor and he was up-ended, his mind going back to that day he'd been sucked into the diary.
He then blinked and looked around, finding himself in the Charms classroom, apparently in the middle of an exam. He looked around, quickly spotting the teenage forms of his dad, Remus, Sirius and Peter. When Flitwick let the class leave, he followed his after as he, Sirius and Remus discussed the exam, which had apparently been about how to identify a werewolf.
He also made sure to keep the form of Snape in sight as they headed for the Main Hall, then outside to the lake. There were several students milling around, a few girls sat by the lake talking and laughing among themselves.
A scowl twisted Harry's face as he kept his gaze on the teenage form of Peter Pettigrew. Harry really wanted to walk up to the traitorous rat and deck him, but if this was anything like the diary, then he'd be unable to affect anything around him.
Then Harry spotted Snape. So did James and his friends.
What happened next really left Harry feeling conflicted.
As much as he hated Snape, watching him get tormented, harassed and bullied left a bitter feeling of disappointment in him. Disappointment in his father, Sirius and Remus. It reminded him too much of what Dudley had done to him as they grew up.
Then his mother had stepped in and tried to help Snape, only for Snape to lash out at her as well, calling her a Mudblood, which rankled Harry, and he sensed, Hermione as well, and any sympathy he had for the man for his father's torment started to wane.
Then a hand closed tight over his upper arm, closed with a pincer-like grip. Wincing, Harry looked around to see who had hold of him, and saw — with a clash of waring emotions, mainly sympathy, anger and a little fear — a fully grown, adult Snape standing beside him, face white with rage.
"Having fun?"
Harry felt himself rising into the air. The summer's day evaporated around him, he was floating upward through icy blackness, Snape's hand still tight upon his upper arm. Then, with a swooping feeling as though he had turned head over heels in midair, his feet hit the stone floor of Snape's dungeon, and he was standing again beside the Pensieve on Snape's desk in the shadowy, present-day Potions master's study.
With a violent twist and shove, Snape threw Harry away from him. Harry stumbled and tried not to fall, scowling as he caught himself on a desk then stood, then stooped to grab his book bag.
"Interesting man, your father." Snape growled, glaring at Harry with all the hate he'd felt for the boy's father.
"But I'm not him. That's something you never seem to understand. From day one, you've belittled, insulted and harangued me, all because you couldn't let go of a grudge against a dead man. I actually started to feel sorry for you while watching that, since I've been on the receiving end of that myself outside of Hogwarts. But that sympathy has it's limits." Harry replied, not realising that perhaps it wasn't a good idea to antagonise a man who was already pissed off.
"I do not require nor do I need your sympathy Potter." Snape spat, his rage boiling just under the surface. Harry could tell he was just itching to pull his wand, but Harry decided it probably wasn't a good idea to provoke a fight with the man, for one, he'd probably get his arse kicked, and two, he'd also have to deal with Dumbledore, and considering how the man had failed to stop Draco before the DMLE had gotten involved, Harry was starting to become just a little disillusioned with the man.
"You won't tell anyone what you saw." Snape growled. Harry didn't respond, just continued to glare at him, though made sure not to make eye-contact.
"Now get out! I never want to see you in this office again Potter."
Harry decided that, for once, he and Snape agreed on something. He particularly didn't want to be here again either, it was just a shame that now, he was probably going to fail his Potions OWL next year.
As he opened the door and stepped through it, he started to make his way back up to the tower.
'Antagonising him probably wasn't the best idea Harry.' Came Hermione's voice.
With a mental shrug, Harry replied, 'After that, he was probably going to fail me on my OWL anyway. At least we've got this book to look through now, so maybe if he starts docking scores from all of us, we have this to fall back on.'
'I don't know, isn't that cheating?'
Harry smiled to himself as he casually readjusted his trousers as he walked up the steps. 'Says the girl who's probably already read her OWL potions book cover to cover 3 times?'
'Prat!' Hermione giggled, 'Now get back here, Susan says she's hungry, and that dick isn't going to suck itself.'
'Yes dear.' Harry chuckled, as he started to make his way back to the common room, wondering how long it'd take Snape to notice the book was gone.
-=-=-=-
That night, Harry decided to practice with the spell he'd found in the book, though under the girls' insistence, he was to try it only against dummies in the Room, and once they discovered exactly what it could do, thanks to the disembowelled straw dummies, he readily promised never to use it against a student, unless he thought his life, or the lives of others were in danger. The girls, and even Harry himself, were more than a little disturbed to discover that repairing and healing charms had no effect on anything hit by the cutting curse.
"If there is a counter spell for it, it's not in this book. I've gone through it twice. Whoever this Half-Blood Prince was, he filled the book's margins with notes related to potion brewing that seems to contradict what the book describes." Hermione said, looking more than a little put out.
"Maybe you should try some of his methods to brew?" Daphne said as she studied the remains of a dummy she'd decapitated with the curse Harry had found.
"I suppose, but not in class. That would be cheating." Hermione said, only casually paying attention to Susan as she knelt in front of Harry after shoving him back against the wall and dropping to her knees, her hands going immediately for his crotch.
When it came to Daphne's turn, she had to pause several times as strange images flashed through her mind; images that showed Draco leering down at her as she sucked him off. She pulled back and shook her head, clearing her mind. That was odd. She didn't remember ever giving Draco a blowjob, and the act of sucking Harry still made her feel uncomfortable for some reason, like she was about to throw up, yet never did, almost like what she was doing, she was doing it against her will.
Except she wasn't. She needed to suck his dick, and, more than that, she wanted to.
Pushing down the urge to gag as she sucked aggressively on his glans, making him gasp, Daphne ignored her own mind and powered on.
"Daph? Is everything okay?" Susan asked as she watched her friend go to work.
'Yes, I'm fine.'
"Then what's with the weird flashes? I know the link between us hasn't really fully formed, barely started even, but those were so vivid even I picked them up."
"It's nothing." Daphne said, as she pulled back to take a breath. The flashes didn't happen every time, in fact, this had only been the 3rd of 4th since that first time in the Hospital Wing when she'd tried to help Hermione.
"Are you sure?" Harry asked, gently stroking her cheek with a finger. She looked up at him and smiled reassuringly.
"I'm sure, now button up, I'm eating."
As she returned to work, the other three exchanged looks. They all silently agreed to keep an eye on her, though Daphne rolled her eyes as she bobbed her head, having heard their 'silent' agreement. Though she did appreciate the thought. Surely, the flashes were nothing to worry herself about.
Friday December 16th 1994
Dobby huffed as he vanished the food that was just about to be sent up to the Great Hall while the elf who had just prepared it had his back turned.
This was becoming a concern. He'd first noticed one of the kitchen elves adding a potion to some of the food the day he'd started working at Hogwarts, but only two servings of food got the potion. It hadn't taken him long to figure out what the potions were and who they were meant for. And while his loyalty to Hogwarts and the Headmaster kept him quiet, his desire to help Harry Potter and his Ladies compelled him to continue to interfere.
The elf responsible, Mippin, who Dobby had seen speaking to the Headmaster, was still none the wiser that his 'gifts' were not reaching their intended targets. He had considered using a general counteracting potion, but those almost always had a rather horrible taste that even humans could detect. And with the amount of food apparently being tampered with, Dobby wasn't sure he could procure enough counter-potions. If Harry Potter and his ladies realised their food was being tampered with, they would panic, and that was extra stress they didn't need. So Dobby just chose to vanish the food and substitute what he had prepared while Mippin's back was turned.
The Headmaster had told the group of elves that the potions were medicinal in nature, and that there was no need to alert the students in the Hall that there were potions in their food, but Dobby had got curious as to why only food meant for Harry Potter and his Granger was getting the potion, so he'd investigated. He'd immediately wanted to report to Harry and tell him, but what the Headmaster had said to all the elves had carried a compulsion with it that meant Dobby couldn't say anything, unless Harry or someone else asked. So for now, there was nothing he could do but continue to run interference, and hope the Headmaster didn't catch on and re-assign him.
Saturday December 17th, 1994
During the final weekend before the Ball, Harry and the girls took the opportunity to finish up their Christmas shopping. Namely, collecting their Ball dresses and in Harry's case, visiting Gringotts and collecting the muggle jewellery he'd purchased the week before then asked the Goblins to enchant. It had been expensive, but worth it in his opinion. He'd also picked up the Jerseys he'd asked the Chudley Cannons and Hollyhead Harpies to sign for Ron and Ginny, after picking up the girls' presents, he'd received it back in record time.
He also took the opportunity to pick up some last minute presents for Neville and the Twins.
Once they returned to the castle, he wasn't all that surprised to hear that Gabrielle had elected to return to France for the holidays, and likely the start of the year. Fleur informed them that Gabrielle and their mother and father would return for the Third Task.
Just before Fleur had to return to her quarters to work on some assignments, Hermione proposed that she, Cedric, Viktor, and a small group of their friends meet them in the Room after Dinner to watch a movie.
Fleur and the others agreed, as long as it wasn't too long. They were all curious to see what this 'movie' was. And so, after the evening meal, Harry found himself sandwiched between Hermione and Daphne, with Susan on Daphne's other side. Around them was Luna, Neville, Hannah, the Twins, and the three Chasers, along with Fleur, Cedric, Cho and Viktor.
Although Fleur, Cedric and Viktor already knew of the Room, this was their first time entering it, and they were pleasantly surprised by what they found, the others were equally as impressed, especially the Twins, once they found out what the room could actually do. Though Hermione had reservations telling them specifically. Harry had also extended the offer to Ron and Ginny, but Ron had been too busy trying to finish the assignments he'd been loaded down with.
Ginny had agreed however, and was sat next to Luna.
Hermione smiled as she waved her wand at the large screen the Room had created, as they all sat on beanbags or cushioned sofas as the blank screen lit up, and eerie flute music started playing, and the screen suddenly showed a clump of fern trees being pushed apart by a giant metal crate being carried by what Harry knew to be a fork-lift truck.
—=—
"You'd think they'd sedate the thing or lock the crate to the wall before they tried opening it." Cedric said, shaking his head as the animal inside the crate pushed it back away from the wall, knocking the Gate Keeper to the ground, off of the crate's roof.
At which point, he was promptly eaten.
"What the bloody hell was in that crate?" Angelina asked, staring wide-eyed, and pale faced at the screen as it faded out on Gate Keeper's hand disappearing along with the man's dying groans, and the sounds of gunfire. Next to her, Katie Bell sat, smiling rather oddly. Harry wondered if she'd already seen this, and then realised she likely had, being Muggle-born.
He noticed that most of those present looked rattled, but Fleur especially did. He made a mental note to ask her about that once the movie was over.
…
As the screen faded to black and the credits started to roll, Hermione smiled and turned to the others.
"Well? What do you guys think?"
"It's pretty cool." Harry said with a smile.
"If what happened to Muldoon wasn't a case for 'Constant Vigilance!' I don't know what is." Neville winced.
"Hopefully they'll make a second one, there is a second novel." Katie said with a smile. Hermione nodded.
"What do you think Fleur?" Harry asked.
"Eet was…interesting. Ze Raptors strongly resemble ze Veela's non-human form. Just picture one of zem wiv a 'uman torso, arms, breasts and wings, and you basically 'ave what I look like when I'm really angry, frightened or aroused."
"Huh, cool." Neville spoke up. The others looked at one another, trying to build mental pictures of what that would look like.
"What I wanna know is, where the hell did the Rex come from at the end there?" Cedric asked. The others shrugged.
"You think dragons are related to dinosaurs?" Hannah asked.
"It's possible, the earliest mammals were reptiles with mammal-like traits, such as giving birth to live young rather than laying eggs, producing milk, and it's possible that dragons share some genetic connection to both mammals and dinosaurs." Hermione said.
"Why's that?" Katie asked.
"Dragons have mammalian traits, and it's possible that the earliest dragons were dinosaurs who survived the extinction event and managed to evolve, since no dragon fossils have ever been found, it's difficult to say."
"What makes you think they're related to mammals then?" George asked.
"Ask Harry." Hermione said with a smirk. Harry gave her a look that clearly telegraphed his thoughts better than the link did.
"Oh?" Katie asked.
"If you must know…the Horntail, when she turned round to pick up the gold egg, she lifted her tail and…"
"And?" Hannah asked with a grin, her eyes glinting with mirth.
"She had a vagina okay!" Harry yelped, his face flushing, not believing he was being asked these questions. 'You're going to pay for this Granger.' He thought.
"You sure?" George asked, after he and his brother exchanged looks.
"Thinking of adding a dragon to your little harem Harry?" Katie asked with a grin. Ginny scowled, folding her arms.
"Yes I'm sure. She looked more like a human under that tail than what I expected to see. Separate…uh…parts. Not that I was really looking." Harry deflected.
"But you still looked." Alicia grinned.
"So, how did she compare to a human?" Angelina asked, smirking.
"Seriously?!" Harry yelped, looking to his companions for support, but finding none.
"What? We wanna know how we stack up against a Horntail." Katie grinned, her eyes sparkling.
"Did Draco hit you guys too? You've never been this…lecherous before." He protested.
"Only because you're not allowed in the girls' dorm." Angelina said with a grin.
"She's right you know. Lavender and Parvati are insatiable. Constantly talking about boys and speculating on sizes." Hermione drawled.
"And they're not the only ones." Alicia said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
"That rule is so unfair." George protested.
"Easy way round it. Become a member of staff." Luna spoke up.
"How did we get from talking about dinosaurs to talking about sex?" Susan spoke up, looking like she wanted to burst out laughing.
Off to one side, Viktor chuckled. Harry turned to regard his two fellow male Champions.
"What about you guys? What did you think?"
"It vas very…interesting. I doubt even magic could do vat that 'movie' depicted." Viktor said with a shrug.
"It was alright." Cedric said with a smile.
Harry looked at his watch, noticing the time.
"Nearly curfew, we should get going."
With numerous groans, the others agreed and headed for the door, after agreeing to maybe do this again some time.
-=-
Sunday Dec 25 1994
Harry smiled as he looked over the presents he'd got from everyone in Gryffindor, Hermione, Daphne and Susan also promised that he'd get a very special gift from all of them later that night after the Ball, but refused to elaborate.
Hermione had given him a book called Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland; Ron had given him a selection of Honeydukes chocolates that seemed a little off, though Harry wasn't too worried, anything with sugar tended to last quite a while, but it still got a frown from Hermione. Sirius had given him a handy penknife with attachments to unlock any lock and undo any knot; and Hagrid, a vast box of sweets including all Harry's favourites: Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and Fizzing Whizbees. There was also, of course, Mrs. Weasley's usual package, including a new sweater (green, with a picture of a dragon on it — Harry supposed Charlie had told her all about the Horntail), and a large quantity of homemade mince pies, which were quite nice.
From Fred and George, he got a box of their Ton Tongue Toffees. There was also a note with them saying that the Toffees were for 'later that night'. Harry rolled his eyes and smiled, remembering what those toffees had done to his cousin one time. He heard the girls giggle as they saw what he was thinking.
'Honestly Harry, that was a rather nasty prank they played.' Hermione said.
'Yeah, but he did deserve it. And I'm surprised they thought of alternative uses for this toffee before we did.' Susan added with a giggle.
'Well, to be fair, I'd forgotten all about it. Until now.' Harry replied as he set the toffees to one side, for later that night.
The girls seemed rather pleased with their gifts. Hermione loved the bracelet he'd got her, which the Goblins had engraved with an anti-theft rune, and several other basic protection runes. Susan had quite liked the necklace she'd got, which bore a small pendant what had a lioness embossed on it's surface on one side, and a male lion on the other. The Goblins had added similar protections to the necklace.
Daphne had received a rather nice pair of ear rings, modelled with swans in flight. They had been charmed to animate, and rather use a hook through her earlobe, they were each attacked to a small round disk quipped with a sticking charm, they also had anti-theft charms applied.
Luna had been thrilled with her jewellery making kit, a fact she enthusiastically demonstrated at breakfast when she'd thrown her arms around him and gave him a very tight hug. The kit was a rather high-end one he'd found in muggle London. While he hadn't been totally sure if he'd been allowed to leave Diagon, well, he couldn't argue with the results.
The case had the same anti-theft enchantments the jewellery had, and Flitwick's punishment had also resulted in quick change: All of Luna's missing belongings had been returned, along with a public apology. Ravenclaw's prefects had lost their positions as a result, which had forced the Charms Master to temporarily appoint two others, though Flitwick had warned them he'd be keeping a closer eye on them to make sure they did their jobs properly. Margot Smythe and Marietta Edgecombe had also subsequently been sentenced to Detention until the end of the school year, they had also been banned from attending the Ball, as had the now former Prefects.
Most of the day was spent by the group bussing themselves and preparing for that night.
-=-=-=-
Harry looked in the full-length dress mirror, adjusting the bow tie he was wearing, along with the dark green suit he wore.
Around the room, others were getting ready, putting the final touches on their suits, Neville wore something similar to Harry, his hair neatly combed, unlike Harry's which was still as unruly as it ever was.
Even Dean and Seamus, who had somehow managed to score dates with both the Patil twins, looked rather regal.
Ron had already gone down, seeming rather dejected, having failed to secure a date for himself. Ginny had offered to go with him, but that seemed to have made him even more miserable.
"Ready guys?" Harry asked
"Sure." Neville grinned, though he looked very nervous. "I hope I don't make an arse of myself in front of Hannah."
"You'll do fine." Harry said with a smile, "At least you know how to dance, I'm still learning, McGonagall says I'm 'adequate'."
Neville shrugged, "Gran made me learn, I think she knew about this Ball before the year started."
Harry smiled and turned to the others, "How about you guys? All set?" His dorm mates nodded as they put the finishing touches to their outfits.
"Sure." Dean said, Seamus nodded, grinning.
Nodding, Harry turned and headed out the door.
-=-
A small crowd had already gathered in the Entrance Hall, milling around and chattering among themselves when Harry and his dorm mates arrived. Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat, told them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside; but first they had to wait for the rest of the Champions' dates.
They were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum stationed themselves nearest the doors; Viktor looked rather handsome in a red suit and robes. Not that Harry would usually call another bloke handsome, but Viktor certainly looked good. Harry suddenly felt self-conscious of the plain dark green suit he wore.
Cedric and Cho were close to Harry too. Cho was wearing a rather nice looking flowing white dress with gold trim, Cedric was done up in a suit similar to his own.
Then he heard movement on the main stair case and turned, his eyes widening and jaw going slack.
It was Hermione, accompanied by Hannah, Susan, Daphne, Padma, Parvati, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell and surprisingly, Luna, who was looking at the crowd curiously.
'I wonder who her date is.' He thought, as he mastered himself as Hermione started to lead the girls down the stairs, smiling nervously as she saw him. When she reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped forward, he reached out to take on of her hands and leaned forward, gently kissing the back of her hand while looking up at her, noting, with great amusement, the blush that erupted on her face.
"You're hair looks great Hermione, how'd you get it tamed like that? The rest of you does too." Harry said, hastily amending his praise.
"Why thank you Harry. You look rather handsome yourself. It's Sleakeazy's Hair Potion, tames even the most unruly of hairdos. Though it's a bit too much for regular use." She replied, stepping forward to embrace him as Susan and Daphne came down the stairs behind her, and behind them, the Patil twins, who were wearing identical dresses that he guessed were traditional Indian festive wear that hid moment of their bodies but did show their midriffs, compete with tattoos inked onto their forearms and hands. The girls smiled at Seamus and Dean in greeting, who were blushing fiercely.