A Marriage of Convenience | By : NinaSweets Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 159311 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 45 |
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and places all belong to JK Rowling this is a not for profit story. |
Hello, long time no see. I have returned. Japan was wonderful, had a snowball fight near Mt Fuji, went to Disneyland, got dressed up as Geisha and had amazing food. It was spectacular.
Thank you all for being so patient with me and I’m sorry I lie to you all the time, I do try to get the chapter up when I promise then I get horribly sidetracked. I’m trying to work on it, in the meantime here’s another chapter.
Chapter Six
It was the morning of the first task and Harry was sitting with Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast. The three Champions were nowhere in sight and neither were their headmasters. A look at the Head table showed that both Professors Dumbledore and Sprout weren’t there. They were probably sitting with Cedric right now.
When Hermione finished eating she suggested they head off to the arena. Harry stood to join her and she raised an eyebrow.
“Remember you have to sit with your husband today Harry,”
“Oh,” Harry muttered and sat back down.
“It won’t be so bad,” she assured him before leaving the Great Hall with Ron in tow.
Harry allowed himself a small self pitying sigh wishing he could be following along with them, wishing that his name had never come out of that stupid Goblet.
He sat watching as the hall around him steadily grew empty then turned to the Head table to watch Snape finish up his coffee. He stood and swept down the stairs glaring at each table as he passed making each of the remaining students quickly finish their food and leave. When Snape made it to the Gryffindor table the hall was empty save a few Professors who were transferring their coffee into travel mugs.
Harry stood and stared up at Snape, “Any advice?”
“We discussed everything we needed to. Just act natural,” Snape said.
Natural? What the hell was natural? Harry certainly had never been exactly natural. He couldn’t help standing out. In the Muggle world it was his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin pointing out his oddness so he stuck out as a social pariah and in the Wizarding world he was famous for something he did as a baby.
Harry however decided not to argue and tried to contain his nerves so he didn’t just explode in some weird overstressed tantrum.
He, instead, opted for simply nodding his head and followed Snape onto the grounds.
A huge stadium had been erected over night near where Harry had seen the Dragons in the forest. Harry could see majority of the Hogwarts students making their way towards it, the blue uniform of Beauxbatons and the red of Durmstrang standing out amongst the sea of black for Hogwarts.
Snape led the way into the arena and up a flight of stairs, the students all headed to the left and disappeared on each level but Snape climbed higher until they reached the top. It was a private box filled with reporters, the Ministry officials Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch and Hogwarts staff. Professor McGonagall was sitting in front of Harry and turned to give him a small nod in greeting. Karkaroff and Madame Maxime were not there yet but there were seats saved for them and Professor Dumbledore.
Snape sat and pulled Harry down next to him. In a single smooth movement Snapes winter cloak had been thrown around Harry and an arm was pulling him closer. Snape had placed the cloak so that if anyone turned around you wouldn’t know what was happening under it, which was, thankfully, nothing. However the press could make up whatever they liked.
There was a curtain hanging in front of the audience, hiding the arena from view. Harry could see a few students at the edge of the arena trying to peak around to see what was behind it. Harry knew already. Dragons. Big fire breathing dragons, he wondered what the champions had to do with them. Hopefully not fight them, how could anyone expect a seventeen year old to fight a dragon?
A woman in the row in front turned to look at them. Her eyes lit up behind rhinestone classes and she slapped the man next to her. He turned with a big camera and took a blinding photo.
“Well hello Professor Snape, Harry, I can call you Harry can’t I?” the woman asked. She had curly blonde hair and sharp red nails that had been filed to a point. Her grin was wide and her lipstick dark.
“Uh...” said Harry
“No,” Snape answered for him.
“Oh of course I didn’t introduce myself first, Rita Skeeter, writer for the Daily Prophet column Me, Myself and I. I’m sure you’ve read it, everyone does. It’s all about who’s who and what’s what.”
“Oh,” Harry said nodding politely. Snape glared at her but she seemed immune and was instead focused on Harry.
“So you’ve been married for over a month now, how is it all going?” she asked. A bright green quill was scratching down her question on a big notepad. It stopped as it waited for his answer.
“Uh...” Harry looked at Snape not sure if he should be answering or not. Snape stared back blankly.
“Still in the honeymoon stage?” Skeeter continued, the quill scratching out some more words but Harry couldn’t read what it said.
“Uh...” he said still watching the quill. It wrote out his every ‘uh’.
“This is the first marriage for both of you, how do you think you’re doing?”
“Um...” Harry muttered feeling horribly uncomfortable. He glanced at Snape again for help but the man wasn’t even looking at him.
What was it the man had said? He was the darling of the Wizarding World, act like it and it’ll work in your favour.
“What’s this?” he said pointing to the quill.
Skeeter looked startled by the question but smiled recovering quickly, “This is called a Quick-Quotes Quill, and just copies out everything you and I say so I’ve got things to put in my article,”
“Wow,” Harry said and Skeeter beamed at him.
“So about the-?”
“Have you been a reporter long?” Harry asked watching as the quill wrote out his question. Skeeter watched it for a moment before turning back to him.
“Ten years,” she said
“Wow that’s a long time, do you like it?”
“It has its moments. I don’t want to talk about me, let’s talk about you.”
“Oh I’m not very interesting,”
“I’m sure you are. What do you think your parents would say about your marriage to Professor Snape?”
Snape stiffened beside him and Harry blinked at her. He could play this out two ways, act like the downtrodden orphan with a heart of gold and a brave face or get defensive about it. He thought about which would be easier, a snarky remark about how dead people couldn’t really comment on anything. Well that would at least make him feel better. He needed to start really thinking before he spoke. What he really wanted was to not answer the question. So he didn’t.
“Can I touch it?” Harry said instead. Skeeter was thrown and glanced at Snape who stared at her. She turned back to Harry who was waiting with his eyebrows raised.
“Touch it?” she asked.
“Your quill can I touch it?”
“I...” she started but Harry had already grabbed it.
“It doesn’t look like your ones,” Harry said to Snape. Snape had quills that wrote down what he said when he was experimenting with his potions and didn’t have free hands. Those quills were all a bright vivid blue and Snape had warned Harry if he ever touched them his fingers would be used in his next experiment.
Snape leant down so he was closer to Harry, inspecting the quill in the boy’s hands.
“Mine are Dicta-quills they dictate everything I say word for word. Quick-Quotes Quills tend to be a bit looser in their dictations,” Snape said
“Oh wow,” Harry said and went to hand the quill back to Skeeter but accidentally-on-purpose broke it.
“Oh, oh I’m so sorry! I’ll replace it, I’m so sorry!” Harry said.
Snape smirked and squeezed Harry tightly to his side while Skeeter stared at her broken quill.
“How will I write my article now?” Skeeter asked, she still sounded polite but the look in her eyes promised Harry trouble.
“Oh come now Ms Skeeter, don’t tell me you didn’t bring a spare quill,” Professor McGonagall said, “although if I remember you in my classes correctly you did have a problem with missing stationary.”
“You can borrow my quill to write your article Ms Skeeter!” Harry said and held out a very worn, ordinary, quill. “I know it’s not fancy like yours but you only need to take a few notes on the Tournament right?” Harry put the most innocent smile on his face as he offered his quill.
Skeeter took the quill and spun around to face the front, awkwardly inking the quill and scribbling on her note pad.
Snape leaned over and whispered in Harry’s ear, well aware of the glances Skeeter kept shooting them as she wrote.
“Well done,” he said and Harry smiled but when he saw Skeeter eyeing them he turned it into a giggle.
“Stop, you know you’re not allowed to kiss me if you haven’t shaved,” Harry said and lightly shoved Snapes face away from him. Snape stared at him and raised an eyebrow. Harry gave him a brilliant smile in response. Snape gripped him tighter and began to tickle his sides, Harry squealed like a girl and began to thrash around.
“Stop, stop!” Harry laughed trying to get away but Snape held him tight.
Snape finally let up when Harry had dissolved into a gasping giggling mess.
“Public displays of affection from the nasty Professor Snape, my readers will love to see this side of you,” Skeeter said.
“This side of him is something only I get to see, it’s what makes it all the more special,” Harry said and gave Snape a dazzling smile with just the right amount of love sick adoration on his face. Snape’s face remained blank but Harry smiled even brighter as if it had changed. Skeeter was writing this all down frantically. Harry snuggled close to Snape and continued to just smile up at him. Snape brushed his nose along the top of Harry’s head and that really was about as affectionate Snape ever got, especially in public. Harry couldn’t believe he’d done it actually which made him smile that much brighter.
“When you two love birds are done?” Ludo Bagman said Harry blushed and avoided his gaze acting every bit like a fourteen year old being caught out after curfew. Snape however glared the man down until he turned and headed up the front to the judges table. The Headmasters soon appeared and took their places at the judges table with Bagman and Crouch.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the Triwizard Tournament!” Bagman called, a spell amplifying his voice across the arena.
“Now two very brave wizards and a bright young witch are preparing themselves for this task ahead. Their objective is to collect the golden egg. Now of course nothing is as it seems, there will be one little obstacle they must get around to collect their egg,” Bagman waved his wand and the curtain before the audience fell revealing the arena and one very pissed off Swedish Short-Snout. It let out a loud roar and the audience screamed as it breathed fire across the ground in front of itself. It stamped its huge feet trying to break free of the chains that stopped it from taking off. It was standing in front of a pile of green eggs flecked with black, its babies, Harry realised. Right on top of the pile was a golden egg, the one the champions would have to collect.
Harry couldn’t help but be grateful he was not competing. He shuffled closer to Snape and grabbed the man’s hand, holding tight. He was suddenly worried that someone would decide that Harry had to compete after all. He received a small squeeze back and let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
“Now put your hands together for Cedric Diggory!” Bagman shouted.
Hogwarts students and teachers alike all began to clap and cheer as Cedric walked out of the small white tent in the corner of the arena.
Cedric froze when he saw the dragon, even though he’d been forewarned it was still very daunting.
A whistle blew indicating the start of the task. Cedric didn’t move, he simply squared his shoulders and raised his wand. Before he could get out a single spell the dragon roared spewing fire at him. He ran trying to get the pile of eggs between them. The dragon didn’t feel like moving much and simply roared and stamped at him warning him away from her young.
“Oh he’s quick, but not quick enough,” Bagman called as Cedric had tried to dart around the dragon, only narrowly avoiding being set on fire.
Cedric was looking wildly around him trying to think of something. He waved his wand and a rock on the ground transformed into a golden Labrador. It barked loudly diverting the dragon’s attention to it.
Cedric ran quickly past the dragon and began to scale the pile of eggs being very careful not to break any.
“Oh that’s clever!” Bagman said.
The dragon let out a burst of flames and the dog was a rock once more. “Oh shame that didn’t work for long,”
The dragon glanced around for where Cedric had gone. Finally it turned and saw him; there was a moment of pause where Cedric and the dragon stared at one another before the dragon let out a roar of rage. Cedric suddenly didn’t care about being careful and scrambled up the pile of eggs; several toppled to the ground and smashed but Cedric kept climbing. The dragon roared at the smashed eggs and let out another breath of fire. Cedric managed to dive out of the way but not before copping burns to the left side of his face and arm. The dive had gotten him a little off course but not enough. A second later he was scrambling to the top of the egg pile and grabbed the golden egg with his good arm.
Dragon tamers immediately swam into the arena subduing the dragon, the crowd was screaming, clapping and cheering.
“Oh well done Mr Diggory well done, now hold on just a moment. I know you’re hurt but we’ll just wait to see your scores,” Bagman said. Dumbledore held up an eight, Madame Maxime, held up a six, Karkaroff a five and Crouch a six.
“Excellent, excellent off to the Healers tent with you young man, you did very well!” Bagman said.
The curtain went up again as the arena was reset and another dragon dragged out. Only seconds later the curtain was down again and now there was a Welsh Green dragon standing in the arena huffing and puffing around angrily, pulling on the chain trying to get to the eggs.
“Now Miss Delacour! You’re up!” Bagman called.
The crowd cheered again but mostly from the Beauxbatons students. Fleur Delacour exited the tent and stared up at the dragon in front of her. The whistle blew and she immediately sprinted forward. The dragon wasn’t prepared for that and slashed out at her with its tail. She screamed as it hit her and threw her twenty feet across the arena into the base of the stands. She lay still, crumpled at their base; the dragon was watching her curiously.
“Ah Miss Delacour goes for speed rather than patience. Not so rewarding for her it seems, but she’s getting up,”
Fleur staggered to her feet and shook herself. She seemed determined not to use magic and ran forward once more. The dragon lazily flicked his tail at her but she made a spectacular dive underneath in and rolled forward and back into a run. Harry watched her, she moved so gracefully and quickly, her blonde hair was falling from its plait trailing behind her as she sprinted forward. She was at the base of the egg pile when there was another swish of the dragon’s tail. It crashed into her and the eggs and sent them all tumbling around. Fleur was sent flying once more landing on top of half the eggs that had been thrown with her. Harry heard her cry out as more eggs hit her and she was covered in their yolk. She stumbled up once more, looking up at the egg pile with a calculated stare. It was considerably shorter now, the eggs scattered all over the arena, and the golden egg had rolled down and was sitting near the base. It would be easy to get, however the dragon was standing directly in the way.
“Seems quite determined to get a little dirty this young girl does,” Bagman commented.
Fleur took a deep breath and headed in the opposite direction, the dragon began to follow her away from the golden egg. She ran around the remains of the pile heading for the egg, keeping her eye on the dragon’s tail. The dragon hadn’t wanted to use its fire breath, content to just smack her around with its tail. Now however it seemed tired of their game and let out a roar, blasting the fire right at the pile of eggs Fleur had been making her way around. There was another scream as Fleur dived out of the way but her robes had been set alight, she extinguished them with some clumsy wand work, determined to keep moving. Distracted by the flames on her robes she hadn’t seen the tail whip round again, she was smashed for a third time. The tail smacked her in the right direction and she wound up landing right near where the golden egg was. Harry watched her roll over and slowly inch toward the egg, she was hurt, badly, she kept going though, inching forward one arm outstretched. The dragon stamped its foot sending her jolting. It let out another breath of fire, warning her away. She had to roll out of the line of fire and away from the golden egg.
Fleur stood up and glared at the dragon waving her wand in a very complicated pattern. The dragon dropped down asleep and Fleur calmly walked over and picked up the golden egg.
“If she knew the spell all along why didn’t she use it in the first place?” Harry asked Snape, frowning.
“She might have only just remembered the spell; she might have been showing off, which is more likely. If she had completed the task with no magic at all she would certainly have gotten first place. Now however with all the smashed eggs she’s more likely to incur a penalty,” Snape replied and he was right. Although her Headmistress gave her a nine everyone else gave her a three or a one. Madame Maxime was not happy with that and glared at the other judges.
The curtain was up once more preparing the arena for the final champion Viktor Krum.
“I am so glad I’m not doing this. I don’t know what I would have done. Something like Fleur I reckon,” Harry said and Snape looked down at him
“Well you don’t have to worry about that now,” Snape said and Harry nodded snuggling closer to the man’s warmth. There was a flash and Harry glared at the photographer who took the picture.
“To cute to resist,” the man said with a shrug and turned back to the arena. Harry rolled his eyes but put some distance between him and Snape to try and discourage any more surprise photos.
“Our last champion, last but certainly not least, International Quidditch sensation Viktor Krum!” Bagman cheered, the curtain fell revealing the Chinese Fireball dragon.
Krum left the tent and stared up at his dragon, the whistle blew and there was a yellow flash. Krum hadn’t paused for a second, he’d shot his spell quickly and efficiently hitting the dragon right in the eyes. It roared in rage, tail swishing angrily and head turning wildly as it was blinded.
Krum ran forward and began to scale the egg pile.
“Well he doesn’t waste time now does he?” Bagman laughed.
Krum made it to the top without a scratch on him and collected his golden egg. Krum easily had the quickest time, getting his egg in just over five minutes.
The dragon tamers returned once more and carefully put the dragon to sleep before healing its eyes.
The judges gave their scores, no surprise that Krum was now in the lead with his quick time and not getting a scratch on him in the process.
“Well that’s all for today ladies and gentlemen. Currently in first place we have Durmstrang’s Viktor Krum, in second Hogwarts’ Cedric Diggory and in third place Beauxbatons’ Fleur Delacour. Don’t despair though there are still two more tasks. Anyone could win,” Bagman said. He completed the spell and then headed off with the judges down to the tent where the champions were waiting. Rita Skeeter and her photographer hurried after him shouting out questions about the next task.
The Professors around him began to stand, each of them talking about the task. Snape stood as well and seemed intent on ignoring Harry now the press was gone.
“Uh... Professor,” Harry said and Snape looked at him.
“You may go Potter, the cameras are gone,” Snape said.
Harry nodded and turned away. He should probably find Ron and Hermione anyway; get their perspective on the excitement of the day.
Harry managed to blend in with the crowd of students, all who were chattering excitedly about the Tournament.
“Oh Cedric was so brave wasn’t he?”
“I can’t believe it!”
“Like actual dragons, who is in charge of this thing?”
“So dangerous,”
“So courageous!”
“That Krum isn’t too bad looking either,”
Harry was supremely glad he hadn’t competed. He couldn’t imagine what people would say about him.
“It’s a pity Potter wasn’t competing; I think it would have been funny to see him get eaten by a dragon. Imagine Dumbledore trying to explain that one to his stupid Muggle relatives,”
Harry turned at the sound of the voice. Of course it was Draco Malfoy, surrounded by his Slytherin friends and they all laughed at his jokes.
“But of course precious Potter wasn’t competing too busy taking it up the arse,” Malfoy sneered.
“You actually seem upset Malfoy,” Harry interrupted. The Slytherin’s turned to him, as did a group of other students eager for more action.
“I can’t work out why though,” Harry continued, “are you really disappointed that I didn’t face a dragon and get even more fame and glory or are you angry because I take it up the arse? Because you know what it sounds like to me? It sounds like you’re jealous.”
“Oh you wish Potter, as if I could ever be jealous of you,”
“Well, I might not have the nicest stationary or the newest clothes, I don’t get a lot of sweets and the first time I was ever hugged in my life was by Molly Weasley at the end of second year when I saved her daughter’s life. I didn’t have the easiest home life and I don’t have the picture perfect back-story. But I still think that even with all the money, and the clothes, the brooms and the maid service I bet you’d trade places with me in a heartbeat. Do you want to know why?”
“Oh please great saint Potter, tell me why I should be jealous,” Malfoy said.
“Because, I am the youngest Seeker in a century, I rescued the Philosopher’s Stone, because I killed a thirty foot basilisk, because I’m the youngest person to produce a full corporeal Patronus in the midst of over a hundred Dementors” Harry said and began to stalk toward Malfoy, “Because I defeated Voldemort. Because I’ve stared into the face of evil and spat in his ugly face. Because the Goblet of Fire spat my name out. Not yours or Gregory Goyles or Fred Weasley’s! MINE! HARRY POTTER! My name! The one that everyone whispers in reverence when I walk into a room. My name! That they’ll call out in celebration a hundred years from now on the anniversary of my death. It’s my name written in history books, my name that mothers use in their bedtime stories. My name! Mine! My common, dirty half-blood name!” Harry said. “And I know what really tears you up inside, that a man who has done nothing but make my school life miserable, who picks on me and belittles me, who hates me for something I can’t help, a man who hates me because of who my father was, a man who has hoped on many occasions that my stupidity will get me killed, that a man like that would still give up everything to keep me safe. That even with all that, still chose to marry me and you just wish that someone in the world would throw their life away for you like that. But no one will. No one ever will and you have to live with that, every. Single. Day. For the rest of your life,”
Harry turned, the students parted for him like the red sea staring at him wide eyed.
“That may be Potter but eventually you’re going to run out of human shields and what will you have then? A few dead friends and a very angry wizard to face now wont you?” Malfoy said.
Harry turned back to him; he flinched but didn’t move he stood his ground, shoulders squared and head held high.
“Well then, you’ll want your daddy to buy you ring side seats. It’s going to be a hell of a show,” Harry said putting every bit of rage he could muster into his stare.
Malfoy did take a step back then and lowered his head conceding defeat for now.
Harry knew it would only be a matter of time before Draco was back to his old snarky self, but for now, he had a few days of peace.
Harry stormed into the school ignoring the whispers that broke out around him. He stood in the Entrance Hall as everyone rushed around him, eager to spread the gossip of what just happened. He looked around he needed to talk to Ron and Hermione. He didn’t want them to be his human shields. They were worth more than that; they had to be told, right now, this very second. They had to know exactly how much they meant to him.
“Potter!”
Harry turned to the sound of his name. It was Professor Moody, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He had come out of retirement as an Auror, a dark wizard catcher, and had seen far too many battles with a face full of scars to show for it. His right eye was big electric blue and swivelled wildly in his head, Harry had learned it could see through many different things including walls, desks and his Invisibility Cloak. The left eye was small and beady staring at him intently.
“What was that out there? That Malfoy prat giving you trouble again?” Moody asked and Harry couldn’t help but smile. He was quite sure teachers weren’t supposed to call the students prats.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Harry shrugged easily.
The man headed over to him his wooden leg making a loud thunk on the stone floors as he moved.
“Well you handled it well. Too well, sounded like you were almost egging the Dark Lord on there with all the spitting in his face nonsense.”
“I did spit in his face. It was kind of an accident though, he was choking me,” Harry said remembering back to his first year. How scared he’d been when Professor Quirrell’s hands had grabbed a hold of him, Voldemort’s face staring out the back of his head, barking orders at him urging him to finish what he’d started ten years before.
“Can’t imagine how you escaped with your life after pulling something like that,” Moody said darkly.
“He just turned to ash the second he touched me,” Harry said and Moody frowned
“How?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know any spells like that and Dumbledore was really vague about it.”
“Plays things close to the chest that man,” Moody muttered and Harry shrugged.
“POTTER!”
Harry recognised that bark and was already taking a step toward the voice when Moody stopped him. Harry glanced at the man curiously but Moody wasn’t looking at him, both eyes were on Snape, the magical one fixed at Snape’s left arm the other stayed on his face.
“Now Severus, what’s with all the yelling?” Moody growled.
“I am looking for my wayward spouse. You have found him, thank you, now release him,” Snape said, Harry once again went to walk to Snape when Moody stopped him again.
“Constant vigilance Potter, don’t walk toward the danger,”
“Snape isn’t a danger” Harry said and Moody an eyebrow.
“Oh if you knew the things about him I do you wouldn’t be saying that,” Moody warned, “know the enemy.”
“I misspoke, I meant, Snape isn’t a danger, to me” Harry said and headed over to the Potions Master.
Snape held out an arm and took Harry to his chest. He enfolded Harry in a possessive embrace staring at Moody. Harry glanced up at Snape after a full minute of being held. He was tempted to pull away but the grip Snape had on him prevented him even thinking about it.
Snape and Moody were locked in a silent battle, it was almost a silent conversation between them, Harry glanced from one to the other but had no clue what was happening. The students moved around them, unaffected by two teachers standing in the middle of the hallway staring.
Snape gripped Harry round the waist and tipped him back. Harry didn’t have the chance to do anything other than gasp before Snape was kissing him within an inch of his life.
When it finally ended it felt like hours later to Harry but was in reality only forty-seven seconds, Harry was breathless and slumped against Snape as the man righted them. Everyone stared. Everyone.
Moody glared and turned limping away knocking a few students out the way in his haste to leave.
Snape smirked after him and then turned to Harry who was leaning heavily against him, panting.
“Are you quite done?” Snape asked tersely and Harry stared him.
“I was... you’re... a good... kisser,” Harry mumbled and Snape smirked again,
“Thank you. Now go,” Snape said and gave Harry a push away.
Harry rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs to the Gryffindor Common room. He needed to talk to his friends about Malfoy and Snape too but Ron would just cover his ears so he was going to lead in with the Malfoy bit first.
When Harry entered the common room it was to an explosion of noise, he was reminded of Halloween night when he’d been picked as a champion. It was the same scene; the Gryffindors were partying, music playing and people chatting.
Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be seen, so Harry thought he’d check the dorms first before heading down to the dungeons to get the Marauders Map. It showed where everyone in the castle was at any given moment.
He didn’t need the map as he found Ron and Hermione in the dorm. Hermione was sitting on Harry’s old bed with a book in her lap; Ron was sorting his chocolate frog cards.
“Hey,”
“Harry, hey!” Ron said with a grin.
“Ron, you’re the only guy I know that takes a girl up to his room and doesn’t do anything with her,”
“It’s Hermione though,” Ron said, Hermione looked up from her book with a scowl and Harry laughed.
“Charming Ron,” Hermione muttered and went back to reading.
“So how did it all go?” Ron asked, “Sitting in the teacher’s box must have been nice.”
“It was all right, we just sat closer to one another and he put his cloak around me. We did the adorable love sick puppy thing and Rita Skeeter ate it up.”
“Rita Skeeter? That trash writer?” Hermione asked, “How on earth she got a job as a newspaper reporter I’ll never know.”
“Yeah, she didn’t exactly seem like the professional type. More like a magazine writer, her quill kept going off on stupid tangents so I broke it,”
“You broke it?” Ron asked
“Accidentally on purpose, McGonagall was trying not to laugh.”
“Nice one,” Ron said still sorting his frog cards. Harry turned to Hermione who was looking at him with small frown.
“Be careful Harry, trashy though she is Skeeter can put whatever she wants in that article.”
“I know, I’m more concerned about Malfoy,”
“Why?” Hermione and Ron asked together, Ron finally abandoning his cards to shuffle to the end of the bed closer to Harry.
Harry turned and sat on the end of Neville’s bed and told them about his run in with Malfoy.
“Really Harry, I didn’t think you were one to gloat,” Hermione said
“I’m not!” Harry said, “He was just getting on my nerves and I actually had him back down,”
“Well I’m proud of you for not using spells or your fists to settle an argument for once,” Hermione said and Harry grinned,
“Yeah trying the mature thing for once, how did I do?”
“Very well,” Hermione humoured him and he grinned again before frowning.
“You guys wouldn’t be human shields for me would you?”
“I hope we mean a little more to you than that,” Hermione said teasingly.
“Of course you do! I don’t even want think about you possibly doing that. In fact I think we should agree right now that no one else is allowed to die for me. I forbid it,”
“You can’t stop us mate,” Ron said
“You watch me,” Harry challenged and Hermione laughed.
“If we are ever in a situation like that Harry I hope you trust us enough to make the right judgement,” Hermione said “but you can’t stop us if we think we’re doing the right thing, you know that.”
“I do know it, but I don’t have to like it.”
“No you don’t and I don’t think Ron or I will if we’re ever in such a situation and you hurl yourself in front of us.”
“We have been in that situation and you did hurl yourself in front of us,” Ron pointed out.
“Exactly and we didn’t like it but we knew you had to and you’ll know when we have to,” Hermione said and Harry nodded.
“I – thanks guys,”
“Anytime,” Ron said and Harry smiled at him. “Now tell us more about your battle of words with Malfoy.”
“That was about it, though Moody spoke to me afterward,”
“You didn’t get in trouble did you?” Hermione worried.
“No, he said I handled it well, and then Snape showed up.”
“Mad about you hurting his precious Slytherin’s feelings?” Ron guessed and Harry shook his head.
“I think he was coming to yell at me but he got really weird when he saw me with Moody.”
“Weird?”
“Uh... possessive I guess. He doesn’t usually touch me voluntarily but he hugged me to him, then he and Moody had a staring match. I think he was losing because next thing I know he’s snogging me and Moody walked away so I think he won. He just as quickly shooed me away though,”
“Typical Snape though right?” Ron asked and Harry nodded.
“Yeah he’s really on and off. I can’t even begin to predict him” Harry said.
“But you’re okay? He’s not hurting you or anything?” Hermione asked concerned.
“No, no you’d be the first person I told,”
“And then Sirius who’ll kill him for you” Ron added and Harry nodded with a smile.
“How is Sirius?”
“Uh... I haven’t been able to write much. Snape seems to know what I’m doing when I go to write him and distracts you,”
“Distracts you?” Hermione asked, “How can he distract you from something so important?”
“Hermione,” Ron said amazed he’d got what Harry was hinting at before Hermione did. It was usually Ron who was a little slow on the update.
“Oh! Oh! But you said-”
“We’ve only kissed but... he’s really good at it,”
“Ugh enough please!” Ron said holding up a hand to stop anymore talk.
“How good?” Hermione asked teasing Ron
“So good, I’m all breathless and-”
“Stop! Please!” Ron begged and Hermione giggled.
“All right, all right, sorry,” Hermione said.
There was a knock on the door and two identical freckled faces peered into the room.
“What are you hiding up here for?” the first one asked
“There’s a party downstairs,” the second said.
“I’m assuming that’s your doing?” Hermione guessed correctly.
Fred and George Weasley beamed proudly, “Yep, we thought we’d celebrate Hogwarts amazing champion.”
“He’s not in our house,” Ron pointed out.
“It’s a party in his honour,” Fred said carelessly.
“Oh Freddie,” George said,
“Yes Georgie?”
“Our little Ronnikins is up here... with a girl,”
“Oh... oh! Well perhaps we interrupted their party trying to get them to come to ours,”
“We’re not alone, Harry’s here,” Hermione said nodding to where Harry was sitting.
“Oh, didn’t see you there Harry, must have snuck past us at the door,” Fred said
“Yes we don’t take kindly to you much anymore,” George added.
“You left us for the dreary dungeons,”
“However you can stay,”
“So long as your sweetheart,”
“Dearest love,”
“Stays in the dungeon where he belongs.”
“I’m sure he will,” Harry said as they grinned at one another.
“We’ve just brought snacks for everyone, come down, celebrate,”
“Yes you’re not a champion anymore,”
“Just part of us regular party folk so come down,”
“Leave Ron and Hermione to their love fest.”
“Ugh!” Ron said and Hermione again scowled at him, “What? You didn’t actually want a love fest did you?”
“No I didn’t,” she agreed and Ron nodded,
“Then let’s go down to the party, I’m sure they’ve got those choc biscuit squares you like so much”
“So long as the house elves didn’t make them-” Hermione started but Fred and George held up their hands.
“Of course not Hermione,” George said with an over-exaggerated wounded face.
“Brought everything fresh from Hogsmeade,” Fred said and they both nodded together.
“All right then, I do like those chocolate squares,” Hermione said and Ron beamed at her offering his arm to help her from the bed. They headed out the door arm in arm with Harry following behind them, smiling at their backs the whole way down the stairs.
Okay I’m very tired but I just had to stay up to watch the figure skating at the Olympics. I got lots of writing done though so hurray. Finished it off just now so here you go, hot off the presses, tell me what you think and I’ll see you next time, Nina
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