It was early yet, barely quarter past ten, and the platform was mostly empty. It made no sense that he had to floo five hundred miles south to London just so he could board a train for a six hour ride to cover that same five hundred miles north. Why couldn't he just have gone to the bloody school?
Harry sighed. The more he learned about being a pinkskin, the less sense they made.
"Wha's got yer knickers in a twist, Dunc?" Argie asked.
"I could have walked to the school in less than six hours." Harry complained. "This train ride makes no sense."
"Aye." Fergus agreed with a grin, "Noon at all."
"Ye could look at it tha' way, tha' it's jus' irritatin', or ye could look at it as an opportunity te get te knoo yer faillow students, an' maybe make a fraind or two before ye get there." Maisie said with a soft smile.
Harry's frown vanished. "I hadn't thought of that. It's still annoying, but you're right, there is a matter of perspective involved. Thanks Maisie." He stepped forward and hugged her. "I'll try to remember to look at things from different angles."
Maisie hugged him back. "Baist of luck, son. Remaimber te be yersailf, and saind us laitters when ye can." She smiled and kissed his cheek as she let him go.
"I'll go then, see if I can find a new friend to spend six hours with." Harry smiled back.
Fergus pulled him into a hug as well. "We'll miss ye."
Darcy wrapped her arms around him next. "Whain ye do meet a new fraind, bring 'er home so we can taill ye she's no good enoof fer ye."
Maise slapped Darcy on the shoulder. "Dinnae make the lad think we'll hate his ladyfraind, y'orrible gairl!"
Harry smiled at Maisie. "I'll just have to make friends with the whole quidditch league and then not bring them home." He winked at Darcy.
'Ye're a cruel, cruel bai." Darcy said seriously.
"Oh leave off." Argie shoved Darcy out of the way and claimed her hug. "Saind us a laitter when ye can, whain ye want, or whain y'ave quaistions, we'll be waitin' te hear from ye." She kissed his cheek as well, then let him go.
He nodded to Argie, then looked at the rest of his third family. "Aye, I will. I'll never be able to thank you enough for taking me in and teaching me and treating me like family."
"Ye ARE family, ye massive goon." Fergus grinned.
Harry just grinned back at them all. "I'll miss you all." He said with a warm smile. "I'll write when I can. See you later." He turned and walked to the nearest entry point to the train, then turned again and waved from the door.
It was hard to turn away the last time, from the warmth and affection he knew. He would see them again in a few months, he knew that, and it wasn't as though they would all just disappear once he was somewhere else. The lump in his throat was at least balanced out by the thrill of the looming unknown and he was eager to make friends, having never had any before.
He walked the whole length of the train front to back, and there was not a single person on board yet besides himself. He turned around when he reached the back of the train and started to walk to the front again, but something tickled a part of his brain. His power told him there was something hidden to his right. He forced himself to look at the place that didn't want him looking at it, and to his surprise, it was another compartment, rather than the solid wall it had wanted him to see.
The blinds were all drawn so he couldn't see inside the compartment to tell if anyone was there, so he tried the door handle. It was locked. He looked up the train again and wondered if maybe one of the conductors had locked it, but he couldn't see anyone. Well, it couldn't hurt to just have a peek and then lock it again if it was off-limits.
"Alohomora." He said, and the lock clicked open. He opened the door and stepped inside, then closed the door behind him.
There was a girl on one of the seats, arms crossed in front of her as she leaned back against the outside wall. She stared at him with a mixture of anger and surprise. She had soft-looking brown hair that draped down her back and stuck out to the sides, wild and free. Gorgeous rich chestnut eyes darted this way and that, taking all of him in and analyzing him. She had perfectly shaped lips, slightly parted as she stared at him, and only just showed dazzling white teeth and the tip of her pink tongue. All in all, Harry thought she was rather beautiful. He wondered how it might feel to kiss her.
'Hi!" Harry grinned and waved. "I'm Duncan MacFusty, this is my first year going to Hogwarts, I'm kind of excited. I hope you don't mind my coming in, I'm not disturbing you, am I?"
She didn't say anything, she just looked at him as though trying to solve him like he was a puzzle. For some reason, the longer she went without saying anything, the more embarrassed he became. He was unsure what to make of that.
"Okay, sorry. Didn't mean to disturb, I'll just go then." He opened the door and slunk out. "Sorry." He whispered as he closed the door and "Clauditis" locked the door again.
He picked the next compartment forward and walked in, still red-faced from embarrassing himself. He had changed into his school uniform and robes while still at home, as he thought having to change clothes on the train was silly. He took his trunk out of his pocket and enlarged it, and took out Enchanting Enchantments. He had looked forward to reading since he bought it, but he'd saved it for the train ride. He put the trunk back in his pocket and settled beside the window, in the same place the pretty girl in the next compartment was seated.
He started to read, and it seemed like he'd just begun when the train lurched and lurched again, and the station began to slowly slide by the window. Harry got lost in imagining enchantments he could put on things, and he didn't know how much later it was when a girl opened his compartment door. He noticed a big red P on a badge on her robes.
"Hello, I don't recognize you. Are you a new professor?" She asked him.
He stood and bowed slightly. "New fourth year, ma'am. Duncan MacFusty. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"Prefect Penelope Clearwater, Mister MacFusty. Thank you for your elegant greeting. I look forward to seeing you in school." She smiled at him, but he could tell her eyes were sizing him up, measuring his body head to toe. Her gaze lingered on him, and he was forced to stand there and smile while getting both more embarrassed and irritated by the second. Finally, she seemed to realize she was staring, and flashed a quick smile as she retreated and closed the door again.
He went back to his book, but a couple of times he looked up to see different people looking at him through the windows. Why didn't they just talk to him? Why treat him like he was a zoo animal? He would have closed the blinds and denied them, but he didn't want to seem like he was hiding or deliberately trying to keep people away. Pinkskins were so odd. What was in their heads?
He heard the door handle turn after he'd finished a few chapters - he didn't really know what time it was or how long they'd been travelling because he'd had his head in his book. A girl with long blonde hair, almost white, entered his compartment and sat on the seat across from him.
"Hello." She said, with a strange sort of half-smile. He could see her eyes drinking in the information around her. Her smile seemed semi-vapid, and she cocked her head to one side, but he could tell the smile was deliberate. Her eyes held a vibrant intellect.
He stood and bowed as was proper, even though she didn't hold her hand out.
"Greetings, Lady. My name is Duncan MacFusty. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Her smile deepened, and her eyes began to smile as well. "It is my pleasure to meet you as well, Mister MacFusty. My name is Luna Lovegood."
Harry grinned. "What a wonderful name! Love ye well the moon and her ethereal radiance, for she is our Lady of moods and tides. She is our light in the darkness."
Luna's eyes went wide and her cheeks turned pink, but her smile shone. "Where is that from?" She asked.
Harry bowed again. "From Duncan MacFusty, on the train to Hogwarts."
"You made that up just now for me?"
"You inspired me." He smiled back.
"May I call you Duncan?"
"Please do, Lady Lovegood. May I call you Luna?"
"Yes please. As often as possible."
Harry laughed and resumed his seat.
"Do you have a girlfriend, Duncan?"
"As a matter of fact Luna, I don't. I've never had a friend of any kind, sad to say."
"Never? No friends at all?"
"Not really, no. I might have had some in the past, but they became family when they took me in, so not really friends, no."
"Yes, it's not quite the same, is it? I've never had a friend before either. Would you... could I be your friend? We could both be first friends."
"I would like that very much, Luna. Thank you for consenting to be my first friend."
"Likewise, Duncan."
"So... What do friends do, exactly? I've observed that they spend time together and talk, but I'm not clear on what they talk about or how much time is appropriate. I wouldn't want to be rude to my very first friend."
Luna smiled. "That's very considerate of you. I've noticed that friends enjoy spending time together, and are close enough to tell each other when they want some time apart. In my case I have no trouble with telling you if I want to go talk to someone else or go searching for bearded mugwumps, so have no fear in that regard."
"Brilliant." Harry said, "If I'm honest, I thought finding friends would be a great deal more difficult."
The train began to gently slow down then.
"Looks like we're coming into Hogsmeade. You haven't been sorted into your house yet, have you?" Luna asked.
"No, not yet."
"I should go collect my things. You should probably stick with the first years. Hagrid will likely be shouting for first years - He does every year - so you won't have any trouble finding where to go. I'm in Ravenclaw, so I'll be cheering for you from the Ravenclaw table."
Harry stood and bowed again with a smile. "Thank you, Lady Luna. You are most gracious."
She smiled back at him. "I think this is going to be a very interesting year." She said before she left.
"I quite agree." Harry said, still smiling at the door.
She ran to the first carriage and didn't bother trying to get inside, she jumped onto the outside seat beside where the driver should go. It only took ten minutes for the carriage to get to the front gates of the castle, and she jumped out of her seat - careful to avoid putting too much weight on her bad knee - and ran into the castle, all the way to the Gryffindor dorms. She grabbed her trunk and made it back out of the common room into the castle proper before any of the other students arrived.
She stowed her trunk in her hideyhole where it belonged, and made her way to the Great Hall where the Welcome Feast was about to begin.
She took her usual seat as far from everyone as possible, and put her head down, then cancelled her nondetections.
'Stupid.' She kicked herself. 'Could have had the whole trip with tall, dark and polite, but what did you do? You stared at him like a deer in headlights until he left. Stupid!' She sighed and bit her lip. 'Doesn't matter anyway, he would have just made fun of you now or later. Just like Michael.'
The first years filed in through the side door then, all smiles and laughter and chatting with MacFusty as he brought up the rear. He was even taller than he'd looked on the train. His smile was clean and white and beautiful, and he seemed completely at ease. His vibrant green eyes met hers then, and he smiled at her.
He smiled at her.
She felt his smile in her stomach, and she decided then that she hated him. How dare he see through her concealment spell! How dare he look like that and be gracious and spout spur-of-the-moment poetry at Luna! Most of all, how dare he be instantly popular and then have the gall to smile at her like she wasn't the worst, most hated thing in the entire school. No, Michael had taught her that lesson very well, thank you. Shame still burned her guts and brought a lump to her throat. No, she was through with hope. No more people. No more being seen. No more. Soon as the Headbastard was finished his asinine announcements, she was gone until Leaving Feast.
She watched surreptitiously as the first years were sorted, but really her eyes were on him- as most were. He stood with poise and patience and perfect posture, a giant among First Years who stood barely level with his armpits. He cheered for every first year sorted, without preference. He was respectful to McGonagall. In fact, he was respectful to the kids being sorted as well.
It was his turn to be Sorted then, and she definitely hated how she had to drag her eyes away from him more than once.
Maisie had said every eye would be on him. Every eye had been on the First Years as well, and his situation was even more rare, according to Hogwarts: A History. "Smaile, act like ye're expaictin' aivery eye on ye, an' behave as ye would nairmally." She'd said. Good advice, and he was happy she'd given it. It seemed to be working.
He cheered for his new little friends when they were sorted, no matter which House they were sorted into. He knew full well how nerve-wracking a thing it was. Thankfully they'd all come through with smiles.
Then it was his turn, and he did his best to stay calm and act like he was meant to be the center of attention, even though it was the last thing he wanted to be. He strode up the stairs to the low stage where the Head Table resided, and sat on the stool. He had to duck his head down so Professor McGonagall could reach to put the hat on him.
He spotted Luna at the Ravenclaw table down the far end, sitting by herself, so he smiled and waved to her. She smiled and waved back, but then his attention was captured by a voice inside his head.
"Open your mind for me, would you? There's a good lad." It said.
He frowned, and thought "No, of course not. Why would I ever?"
"I'm the Sorting Hat, I need to see who you are in order to Sort you, yes?"
"I thought the Sorting Hat was magical, that it would just magically know."
Harry thought the thing was swearing at him, but he couldn't quite make it out. "That would be nice, yes. However, that isn't how things are. Now open up or I can't sort you."
Harry thought about it. "Can you be compelled?" He asked it.
"Eh?" It thought back in a tone that suggested it had never been questioned before.
"Can you be compelled? By any reasonable means, I mean. Could someone just spell you and make you tell everything you know? Are you susceptible to the Imperius?"
"Am I susceptible to the Imperius curse? The Imperius Curse?!" It harrumphed, "I'll have you know I was not susceptible to the Imperius Curse cast by Salazar Slytherin himself, boy! No, I may not be compelled, not by any reasonable means whatsoever!"
"Okay, good. I apologize if I offered offense, Sir Hat, but I must know before I can show you. Unfortunately, I will also need your word of honour that you will not willingly share anything you know about me with anyone."
"My word?! No-one has ever asked me for my word before."
"If you give me your word you won't share anything you know about me, I will gladly open to you. If you can not, I will have to leave Hogwarts for Beauxbatons."
"Is that a threat, lad?"
"No, Sir Hat. It is the facts of the situation in which we find ourselves."
"Hmph. Very well then, I give you my word of honour I shall not share anything I learn from you with anyone."
"Thank you, Sir Hat, you've put my mind at ease. Welcome."
Harry deliberately opened himself to the hat.
"Oh. Oh my." The hat said, "Yes, I understand. You were quite right to ask, lad. Quite right. I stand by my word, I shan't tell anyone anything. As for your House... I could make a case for all four. Loyal, Brave, Intelligent, Cunning. Any thoughts?"
"Hm. It would be nice to be in the same house as my new friend Luna, but really I'd like to be where I could do the most good. What do you think?"
"You'd do good wherever you landed, lad. I have a hunch though, if you're alright with it?"
"I trust your judgement, Sir Hat. You are the expert, after all."
"Good man, I'll not let you down." The conversation in his head stopped, and the Hat said the next words out loud.
"Better be... GRYFFINDOR!"
The First Years cheered for him, the ones sorted into Gryffindor even more so. Luna cheered for him, but most of the rest of the populace only seemed to care about the sorting being over so they could eat.
Harry went and took a seat at the very end of the group of people at the Gryffindor table, on the far side of the First Years, between them and Mystery Girl at the very far end. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he occasionally caught glimpses of chestnut through her hair. A moment after he was seated, the Feast appeared, and Harry was delighted to witness what he'd only read about.
A smaller boy by the name of Dennis shook his hand and welcomed him to Gryffindor with a smile, but what he said next was drowned out by braying from the end of the table closest to the Head Table.
"Hey Bucky! Read any good piss lately?!"
Mystery Girl's head twitched, and she tried to become smaller than she was, as though she wanted to curl into herself and disappear.
Dennis's smile fell away as Harry turned to look at the filth who had casually tossed shit at a Lady across the dinner table. He was a redhead with a wide face and vacant eyes, obviously performing for his audience who also laughed and jeered. Harry turned to look at the rest of the house. Nobody else was laughing, but neither were they preventing the abuse. They all had looks of fear about them. He turned to look at the Head Table. Not a single professor paid the scene any attention at all. Like such behaviour was not only fine, but accepted and expected.
He looked back at Dennis. Dennis's face told him everything he needed to know.
Nobody was going to do anything.
Harry felt his anger start to bleed into his power even though he tried to control it. "Excuse me for a moment, Dennis." He said, and stood up. He walked over to where the redhead boy sat, and lowered his head to speak to the boy in a semi-hushed tone.
"Hey, what was that about?" He asked.
The redhead spoke with his mouth full, and sprayed bits of food around his plate and onto the boy next to him as he answered with a laugh. "Me an' the boys grabbed bush-head's bookbag last term when she wasn't looking. Too far to make it to the washroom, ey Dean? Too bad you missed it, mate. It was hilarious!"
"I see." Harry said softly. That was why she hadn't said anything when he introduced himself. That was why she locked the door and pulled the blinds and hid behind concealment spells.
Harry's control over his power slipped further, and he could feel his hair begin to whip about his head in the swirl of wind that kicked up. His skin began to heat up, he could feel waves of heat flowing up and down his arms and across his shoulders.
He reached out and grabbed a fistful of the pig boy's red hair at the back of his head and dragged him off the bench toward the end of the table.
The boy managed to get his feet under him and stumble along, but Harry held his head down at waist level. He took Pigboy to the very end of the table and turned to face Mystery Girl. The Pigboy struggled trying to move Harry's hand, but he didn't have a hope. Pigboy pulled his wand out as soon as he realized it, and Harry took it from him.
"You have given insult to a Lady." Harry proclaimed in a loud voice. "You will apologize immediately."
"What? Get stuffed!" Pigboy said. His face was completely red, from embarrassment or rage Harry couldn't tell and didn't care. Pigboy was lucky he wasn't near Mother.
"APOLOGIZE!" Harry thundered in Pigboy's ear. The entire hall echoed with it.
"Sorry!" Pigboy squealed.
"SHE CAN'T HEAR YOU!" He thundered in his ear again.
"SORRY!" Pigboy squealed louder.
Harry bowed to Mystery Girl. "I am deeply sorry, Lady, for the state of tolerated behaviour within our House. Rest assured I will do my utmost to correct it in the coming months. Please enjoy the rest of your dinner."
Harry shifted his grip to the front of Pigboy's clothing, and lifted him into the air with one arm. He walked toward the double doors to the hall, then turned to address the crowd.
"I apologize for the disturbance, everyone. Please excuse me while I have a word with my Housemate."
Without letting him touch the floor, Harry bowed, then carried Pigboy out of the Great Hall.
When they were out of sight of the populace, Harry put Pigboy against the wall and looked him in the eyes. "If I ever catch you so much as thinking a negative thought in her direction, I will break every bone in your body. Do you understand me?"
Pigboy nodded. He looked on the verge of tears.
"Do you doubt that I could do so?"
Pigboy shook his head.
"Good. Learn this lesson and learn it well. Your behaviour shows the world the worth of your House. I will not tolerate improper or disrespectful behaviour from my family - which you are now part of, much to my shame. Pull your head out of your arse and grow up or I will shove your head in your arse and you will do no more growing at all. Are we clear?"
Pigboy nodded.
"Good." Harry let him down onto his feet slowly, and handed him his wand back. "I hope we can avoid having these chats in the future."
Harry turned and walked away, knowing Pigboy would likely curse him in the back. To his surprise, he didn't. Or he hadn't thought of it by the time Harry made it back to the Great Hall. As soon as he entered the Great Hall, the tumult of voices died to a whisper. He went over to Mystery Girl and bowed again.
"I'm sorry if my shouting startled you, Lady. Our Housemate assures me he has seen the error of his ways, but I will be watching him just in case."
She didn't say anything, she just looked up at him with an unreadable expression, so he did his best to smile reassuringly, then went to the top of the table where Pigboy had been sitting, and addressed Pigboy's cronies.
"I trust we won't have any more unseemly displays and that we can henceforth be proud to call ourselves Gryffindors?" He looked at each one in turn. None of them met his eyes.
Twin redheads who sat on the far side of the table caught his attention. "MacFusty, is it?"
Harry nodded. "According to Professor McGonagall we are all family now, so you can call me Duncan."
"Right, Duncan. Look, it's embarrassing, but -"
"Stupid you dragged out of here is our little brother -"
"So extended family notwithstanding -"
"He's family, and we'll have to revenge if you do -"
"Anything permanent to him. Most everyone -"
"Knows not to get on our bad sides -"
"But that said, Stupid takes that as protection -"
"And what he did and said was completely out of line -"
"So we'll let it slide this time." They both finished.
Harry nodded. "Understood, chaps. Now you understand me. I don't give a damn who you are or what your reputation is. I will not tolerate bullying by anyone in any form. If I have to call a blood feud on your house and murder every last member of your family in a ball of white fire, then that is what will happen. Get your brother under control or my next conversation will be with your Head of House. Are we in concord?"
The twins nodded slowly.
"Good. Have a nice dinner, gentlemen." Harry strode back to where he was sitting across from Dennis and sat back down.
"Sorry about that, Dennis. What was it you were saying?"
"Uh, it can wait." Dennis replied. He looked over Harry's shoulder.
Harry turned and found Professor McGonagall standing there. "Yes Professor?"
"Mister MacFusty, the headmaster would like to see you in his office once the announcements are done."
Harry nodded. "Good. I want a conversation with both of you about the appalling behaviour I see being ignored." He looked her in the eyes. She remained firm and stern, but he saw a glimmer of shame in her eyes before she walked away.
Harry didn't feel much like eating, so he talked a bit to Dennis - who had originally asked if he would pass the pumpkin juice. It turned out Dennis and his older brother Colin were both Gryffindors, and Dennis introduced Colin.
After about an hour, the remains of the Feast vanished, and Headmaster Dumbledore stood at the lectern in front of the Head Table. He announced that there was a list of proscribed items available at Mister Filch's office. There was also something about staying out of the forest and not going to Hogsmeade if you weren't third year or above. There wasn't going to be any Quidditch cup that year, and then their new Defense Against The Dark Arts professor showed up. He was a grizzled, one-eyed, one-legged ginger. A fake eye whirled about in its socket, comically large but also clearly functional.
Then the Headmaster explained why there wasn't going to be any Quidditch that year - the Ministry had decided to revive the Triwizard Tournament, and it was to take place at Hogwarts. Harry had read in Hogwarts: A History that it had been discontinued due to a large number of fatalities, and the Headmaster admitted as much. He also said that the Tournament would only be open to students who were of age, seventeen or older. He said something about an impartial judge deciding who competed, and then said that the delegations from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would arrive tomorrow at dinner.
After his extremely long-winded speech, he bid all the students goodnight so they could get a proper rest for the activities the next day.
Harry waited until the rest of the students had left the Great Hall, then fell in behind the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall.
When they arrived at the Headmaster's office - Harry was secretly thrilled to see it, since he'd read about it - the Headmaster sat behind his desk with his elbows on it, fingers steepled.
"Thank you Minerva, you may go." The Headmaster swivelled his eyes to her briefly. She nodded an acknowledgement and left the office. Then the Headmaster turned his disapproving look to Harry.
"I'm quite disappointed by your display, young man." He said.
Harry frowned. "You're disappointed that I stopped one student victimizing another. Is that what I'm hearing?"
"I'm disappointed that you didn't let Mister Weasley come to the decision on his own, Mister MacFusty. Everyone deserves a chance to do the right thing. Forgiveness is the path of the Light."
Nowhere had he read that Headmaster Dumbledore was no longer subject to Reality. It was a disturbing discovery.
"Yes, because in the last three years Mister Weasley has done so much to earn forgiveness. Forgive my mistake, Headmaster. I was unaware that he was ever so close to apologizing on his own and atoning for his transgressions."
The Headmaster lowered his chin and looked at Harry overtop of his half-moon spectacles. "Your sarcasm is unappreciated, Mister MacFusty."
"As is your inability to discern reality from fantasy, Headmaster."
The headmaster's grandfatherly mien fell away then, and he stood dramatically, an obvious attempt to intimidate Harry with a show of displeasure. "Now see here, Mister MacFusty. I am the Headmaster of this school, and I will have respect."
"You are the Headmaster of this school, much to my disappointment. You will not ever have MY respect until you EARN it, Headmaster. Now will we discuss the appalling lack of proper behaviour in the school or will I have to come back later?"
"You may not come back at all if you persist with your unbecoming attitude, Mister MacFusty."
"Is that a threat of expulsion, Headmaster?"
"It would be well justified." He looked down his nose at Harry, despite the fact he was shorter.
"It is also entirely your prerogative, Headmaster. However, you may be missing the consequences of that particular action. Would you like me to tell you what they are?"
"By all means proceed, Mister MacFusty."
"Three things will happen when you expel me from Hogwarts. The first is that I will leave Hogwarts, and Britain. I will go to a prestigious school on the continent and receive a quality education in a supportive and civilized environment. The second thing that will happen is that Hogwarts will stop receiving my money. The third thing that will happen is I will have years to plan how I will clean house when I take my seats on the Wizengamot. "
"The MacFusty's don't have -" The Headmaster's eyes went wide, and his eyes locked onto Harry's. He felt the Headmaster stab against his mind as he tried to enter his thoughts. Harry focused his Will and roared inside his mind.
The Headmaster flew backward over his chair and collapsed against the far wall.
Harry walked over to the Headmaster, but something caught his attention as he bent to pick the Headmaster up. It was a feeling of recognition... of belonging. It was the same exact kind of feeling he'd gotten from his Heir ring when he'd put it on. He closed his eyes and followed that feeling. It was on the floor, near the Headmaster's desk. He got down on his hands and knees to feel around, and his left hand touched something and rolled on it.
It was a wand. It sang to him that it belonged to him - to his family. He could feel a sense of rightness surge within it, like it was happy to be in his hand.
"Why would your wand belong to me?" He asked the unconscious Headmaster. "Have you stolen this from my family?"
There was something else, too. The wand in his hand pulled at him, pulled him in a direction... toward a trunk at the back of the Headmaster's office. The feeling got stronger as he approached it, and when he opened the lid, that feeling of belonging he got from the wand was echoed by a pile of cloth. He picked the cloth up in his right hand, and the two things sent Rightness vibrating through him.
"I'll have to ask Kneescythe about both of you, but later." He told the wand and cloth. He pulled his trunk out of his pocket and enlarged it, put both things in the second compartment, then put his trunk back in his pocket.
He flung the unconscious Headmaster over one shoulder and walked out of the office, careful to make sure he locked the door as he left.
She'd wondered what the hell was going on when McGonagall had walked past her on the way to her own office. Her expression was annoyed, and McGonagall hardly ever showed emotion - probably thought it made her impartial.
Duncan came down the spiral stairs a few minutes later, with an unconscious Headbastard thrown over his right shoulder. She so desperately wanted to just drop her spells and snog - NO - ask him what the hell happened. Did they fight? She would've loved to have seen that. POW, right in the kisser. Grandfatherly arsewipe.
She contented herself with following him instead, as she had intended to do in the first place. It was actually a bloody shame he had the Headbastard slung over him like that, the stupid white beard obscured Duncan's tight - STOP THINKING THAT. Stupid! On the other hand, it sort of accentuated just how wide his shoulders were compared to his waist, and that put tingles in... She felt a rush of warmth between her loins. She reached down to check, and frowned at the dampness against her fingers.
She growled. She hated the way her body hijacked her thoughts and actions. Stupid!
He took the Headbastard from his office - just walked casually as the old man swayed on one shoulder - to the Hospital Wing. She hadn't realized that Duncan's hair was so wavy or so long. He wore it tied at the nape of his neck with a strip of dark leather. It looked soft, silky smooth. Her fingers tingled just to look at it.
"Goodness, what happened?!" Madam Pomfrey asked when he arrived. Duncan put his hand under the Headbastard - one hand - and lifted him up to flop his old bones on the bed in a supine position. She giggled at the stupid white beard as it flapped up and down while he bounced.
"Headmaster tried to Legillimens me." Duncan told Pomfrey. "I guess he isn't used to Legillimensing minors who have defenses."
That was it. She was getting every book on Occlumency she could find.
She hid in the corner by the entrance to the Infirmary, balanced by her hand on the stone wall, and peeked around the doorframe to watch. Hopefully the Headbastard woke up and she could see Duncan pop him in his lying, bigoted old mouth.
When did she start thinking of him as Duncan?
She sighed and let out a squeak when she realized he was two steps away from running into her face. She backed up down the hallway away from the Infirmary and flattened herself against the wall so he could pass by her.
For some reason, he didn't.
As soon as he passed the spot she'd been observing from, he stopped in his tracks. His eyes closed, and his face lifted slightly. He took a deep breath in through his nose, then turned and took another. He turned to face the spot she'd been hiding and took another deep breath in through his nose. He took a step toward her previous hiding spot, along with several short sniffs, until he was standing in the very spot she had been.
He put his nose against the wall and rubbed his face against it like a cat on a trouserleg. His eyes were still closed, but he had a huge contented smile, and his face was flushed. He continued to rub himself, face, shoulders, and back against the spot she'd been standing. As he did so, she heard a soft, throbbing, ticking sound like a huge reptilian cat purr.
She put both hands over her mouth to cover her laughter. She was covered by Nonsonus, but she did it anyway.
After a long moment, he seemed to wake up. His eyes snapped open and he stood up straight and immediately looked around while his face went dark red from throat to hairline. He touched his cheeks and sniffed his fingers and shivered all over.
"What the clutch was that?" He whispered to himself.
Hermione pointed a finger at him triumphantly as she yelled "HA! That's what it's like, jerk! Not fun when your body betrays you, is it?!" Then she clapped both hands over her mouth and ran all the way back to her hideyhole.
She hated it, but it was his face, his hands, his body that she saw when she relieved the pressure. The sight of him bellowing in Weasley's ear gave her the most delicious shivers all up and down her spine.
"Well brother mine, we're going to have to stop using the map." George told Fred sadly. He sat in the overstuffed wingchair beside the fireplace, perusing the map absently while they waited for Mister MacFusty to return from his visit with the Headmaster.
"What have you done now, worse half? It was working fine this morning." Fred frowned at his brother and shifted on the sofa so George could show him what he was looking at. George leaned over and pointed to a name with the tip of his wand. The name had just exited the Grand Staircase and was headed toward the Fat Lady, which meant that name would enter their very room in just a few moments. "I think you might be right, dear brother. I see the name, but the name can't be the name. Do maps get senile when they get old?"
"A case of wishful cartography?"
"Treasure map to buried things?"
"Ooo. Gallows humor is not your forte, Gred."
"I'm Forge today, you're Gred."
"It's after midnight, mate."
"Oh, yes. Quite right. Well, here he comes, let's see what this particular ghost looks like."
"I must admit, I was always a little curious."
The portrait door opened then to admit a tired-looking Duncan MacFusty. Fred looked at George, and George looked at Fred.
"Evening, gents." Duncan nodded at them.
"Mister MacFusty." Fred nodded back.
"Please, call me Duncan. We're all family now."
"Hear that Fred?"
"I did, George. Bit of a mistake made there, Duncan. Family are the preferred prank targets."
Duncan laughed. "I've two older sisters, gents, so you're up against serious competiton. I look forward to seeing what you come up with."
"Do mine ears deceive me, Fred? I could swear that sounded like a challenge."
"No no, I heard it too George. We'll have to give it some thought now."
Duncan smiled and bowed slightly at both of them in turn. "Good night, gentlemen, see you in the morning." He turned and went up the stairs to the dorm.
The twins watched him go, and turned to each other once he was out of earshot.
"Seems to me that ghost is a bit lacking in the transparency department." George said.
"Ooo, very nice George. Subtle and relevant. Well done."
"At least one of us should represent us well."
"And a knife in the back to follow. Rare form today, brother." Fred winced in mock pain.
"Inspired by an angry ghost, I suppose."
"He was quite angry with ickle Ronniekins, wasn't he."
"Beats the magic out of Mum's howlers too."
"Still, I suppose as angry ghosts who threaten to kill your entire family go, we really couldn't have asked for nicer."
"True, quite true. Despite my better judgement, I find myself beginning to like this ghost."
"You like anyone who invites our A game." Fred grinned.
"So do you." George grinned back.
"I must admit." Fred grinned at his brother, then looked down at the map. The section of tower that housed the fourth year Gryffindor boys had four stationary names. In the far corner was the name Ronald Bilius Weasley, then Seamus Finnegan, then Neville Longbottom, and finally, nestled into the bed closest to the door, was Harry James Potter.
"Mischief managed." He said, and tapped the map with his wand.
"Oh come on Milli. You can't stand there with a straight face and tell me that wasn't the hottest thing you've ever seen in your life. I damn near pulled my pussy off last night, I was going so hard."
Miilicent laughed. "No, of course it was. Especially the heat. It was like he was on fire the way the air distorted. That and the way his long hair whipped around... yeah, it was a good night."
"Exactly! I have to get him into a broomcloset as fast as possible. Stunned if I have to."
Millicent snorted. "Oh please. You go bat your eyes at him and you'll be in a broom closet before you can think to cast contraception. You're pretty, Pansy. Boys want to snog you. I'll have to resort to stuns and potions to get anything good."
"Good thing I am, too. I can't brew worth a rat's arse. I'll have to buy my doses from you. Besides, did you catch the way Greengrass was looking at him? I may be pretty, but I can't compete with her. She's fucking gorgeous, and without a lick of makeup either, the bitch. I think it's probably more likely you and I will both end up stunning the blazes out of him and getting what we can while we can."
Hermione had just been walking to the library when she came across Parkinson and Bulstrode. She had ignored most of their conversation until she realized they were talking about Duncan. She hadn't really meant to follow them after that, but the subject matter was... of interest.
She reversed her course away from the dungeons and back toward the library, only to run into the same conversation when she got to the library. Romilda Vane, Mandy Brocklehurst, Faye Dunbar, and Cho Chang all sat around a table with their heads together in a kind of strategy meeting.
"Amortentia doesn't work instantly though, and it isn't any guarantee. It can engender strong feelings of attachment over time, but it isn't guaranteed to." Dunbar explained.
"Well what would you use then?"
"Infatuus kicks in immediately, but it lacks punch. I'd mix half and half with a lust draught. Invoke the hormones and get things moving while the infatuus makes it last longer and specific to you." Dunbar replied.
"I like the way you think." Chang said. "So we're in this together then, we all agree to brew and share the spoils?"
"I'm in." Brocklehurst said. "Let's draw up a list of ingredients and see who can get what."
"You realize this means we'll all be having sex in the same room with the same guy at the same time, right?" Vane pointed out.
"I'm not enthused by seeing you get fucked, Romilda." Dunbar looked at her, "But I'm not turned off by it either. The prize is definitely worth it."
Vane looked at her, surprised. "Well alright then. Anyone else not turned off by other women?"
"I'm not bothered by it." Chang admitted.
"Even if I find that it weirds me out in the moment, Dunbar's right. Getting some of that stud is worth a lot of weirded out." Brocklehurst added. "I'm interested to know why you're even here though Chang, when you have Cedric."
"I'm interested to know why you would even bother with that question when you saw what everyone else saw." Chang raised one eyebrow at Brocklehurst. "I would be here if he had punished Weasley while defending a real girl, but he did it for Granger, for Merlin's sake. That's like getting the patron saints of generosity and hot fucking in the same package."
Murmurs of agreement circulated amongst the girls.
Hermione scowled at them.
It was one thing to talk about, but these girls were actually planning to rape her Duncan. They'd be the first to rage and cry and demand justice if they were the victims, but here they were blithely calculating the best way to go about raping a boy. Collaborating in raping a boy. Hermione discovered that it made her incredibly angry - even more angry than it did to hear them talk shit about her. She abandoned her self-imposed study period and set out to find Duncan.
She had visited the kitchens and the Great Hall before she realized she had no clue what Duncan liked to do and therefore no clue where he might be. Classes had been cancelled for the day in favor of a last-minute cleaning of the castle before the Triwizard guest schools arrived. Luckily, she saw Luna polishing torch sconces in the Great Hall.
"Luna." She whispered after she turned her Nonsonus off.
To her annoyance, Luna betrayed no hint of startle or surprise. "Yes Hermione?" She replied.
"Where is poetry boy? I need to tell him something."
Luna's face lit up as she remembered. "Thank you for that." She grinned. "I think I heard him say something about helping Hagrid with some trees."
"Thanks. I'll explain later."
"Alright, thanks Hermione." Luna smiled and went back to polishing with renewed vigor.
She snuck her way outside and down to Hagrid's hut and was glad she had re-cast her Nonsonus after talking to Luna. She poked her head inside the hut, but neither of them was there. Fang lay in his bed with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. She went around the side of the hut, and nearly ran into Duncan. He wore runners and a pair of form-fitting bluejeans... and nothing else.
"UUuuunnnggh." She groaned as she drank the sight in.
His hair was unbound and splashed around his shoulders like wavy black silk. His shoulders were thick and blocky with muscle, and ran directly into both his lean, hard chest muscles and his back muscles that accentuated the natural V-shape of his torso. She could have washed her clothes on his taut stomach.
Her heart thundered in her ears as it raced, and she was instantly too hot. She could feel sweat bead on her upper lip, and a mixture of excitement, of manic energy and deep-seated hunger flooded her entire being.
He carried the felled tree he had on his left shoulder into the forest and tossed it casually onto a pile of other trees, then returned for another one. She watched him move the rest of the pile of topped and de-branched trees into the forest. He smiled when he was done and sat on a stump that one of the trees had obviously come from. He wiped his face with his T-shirt, and drank water from a plastic bottle.
She crept up behind him and cancelled her Nonsonus.
"Don't move." She commanded.
"Alright." He agreed with a smile.
She crept a little closer, close enough to whisper in his ear. He smelled of rain and wild grass and carried just a hint of toothpaste.
"Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Romilda Vane, Faye Dunbar, Mandy Brocklehurst and Cho Chang are all planning to either stun you and then potion you or just potion you, but they're all planning to rape you. Be incredibly careful from now on."
She hadn't even noticed that her fingers fluttered over his shoulders, chest, and back until her fingertips burned with tingling. She snatched them back and clenched her fists behind her.
"I thought you should know. Don't get drugged. And put some clothes on, you're only making it worse."
She re-cast her Nonsonus and backed away from him.
"Thank you." He whispered as he turned to look back over his shoulder, but then that look took over his face. His eyes slid closed as he swivelled in his seat and sniffed the air. He rubbed his face and shoulders on the ground where she had stood, and purred the whole time he did it.
Then all at once snapped out of it and stood up. He slapped himself in the face twice. "Stop that! What the clutch is that?" He whispered to himself. He stood there with his hands clenched and breathed deeply.
Hermione felt sparks of energy shoot through her abdomen as she watched him. The yearning filled every pore in her skin until she could feel the air. Her every fiber strained toward him, like it yearned for his touch without her permission. The hollow hunger seemed permanently rooted in her pelvis and demanded action. Immediate action.
She sighed as she strode quickly back to her hideyhole. She'd been doing that far too much recently. That feeling though - the steel-under-velvet feeling of his body under her fingertips, the smell of his sweat as it clung to his hair... It washed all her thoughts away. Her plans, her desires - all were swept away by the rising tide of need that thundered through her.
She cleaned up and showered when the hunger had finally abated some, and she was somewhat surprised to note that there was still time for some revision work before dinner and the Triwizard guests arrived. The shower definitely helped restore her even keel, and by the time she had re-dressed she felt mostly normal. Embarrassed and somewhat achey, but mostly normal.
Wait. Had she actually just gone and talked to Luna like they were friends?
Shit, she had. AND she'd felt Duncan up too. Dammit!
"Fuck you, puberty!" She yelled at the mirror. She hated that changes to her body that were so gross felt so good.
She decided revision could wait and instead sat down in her room with her new Occlumency books. Surprisingly, the meditation and Occlumency exercises actually helped settle her mind and gave her back more control. She felt better for having spent the two hours that way, and applied her three nondetections before she headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.
The two guest schools had arrived already by the time she made her way to her seat at the end of the Gryffindor table, but hadn't yet entered the castle, so she counted herself just in time. The Durmstrang boys were fairly impressive with their matching outfits and sparky little entrance dance, but they all looked angry. Arrogant, angry, and mean. She liked their firebreathing trick though, that was neat even if it was only a trick.
Her problems started when the Beauxbatons girls arrived. Their sighing delicate flower flirty little entrance raised her hackles immediately. Then as they all stood together, she realized there wasn't a single ugly girl among them. There wasn't even a plain girl among them. They were all at leastpretty, with every last one of them on a continuum between pretty and gorgeous. That put a scowl on her face. She knew immediately who their number one target would be. No less than four of them stared at him already.
She realized then that the ache in her chest was shaped like Duncan, and she put her head down on her arms and cursed life in general. At least when he inevitably broke her heart just like Michael had, she was sure she would die from it and wouldn't have to worry about it happening again.
Harry was told he was required to sit with his House at dinner, as technically it was a Welcome Feast - though for visiting students. Harry didn't mind. He thought House unity was a good thing in general, even if the artificial division between the Houses and the resultant rivalry wasn't. He understood the mechanics of it, of course. Rivalry did inspire each side to greater action in some cases, but when it was artificial and forced, like as not the students were just angry. Beneficial, respectful rivalries could only be natural and spontaneous. The rest of the student populace suffered so that those few could succeed.
Harry was personally put out by it because he'd been looking forward to sitting and eating dinner with Luna. She'd expressed her desire to sit with him that afternoon before he'd gone to help Hagrid, and he had agreed wholeheartedly.
Sadly, getting to know his first friend better would have to wait. He really hoped he didn't have an episode of whatever it was while he was spending time with her. That would be embarrassing. Not quite as embarrassing as Argie's hot sauce incident, but pretty close. For that matter, he hoped he didn't have an episode while at dinner. It seemed to come on randomly, and at the most inopportune times. He had enjoyed the massage given by the invisible warning girl that afternoon, and then he'd crawled on his face like some kind of catnipped feline. He was just glad whoever invisible warning girl was, she hadn't laughed at him.
He had taken her warning seriously though. He had no desire to wake up in the bottom of a broomcloset as an anonymous father. He had already visited the kitchen and eaten a decent dinner, and had his own bottle of water with a resealable lid.
Harry enjoyed the lively, rhythmic staff-twirling of the Durmstrang students, but laughed when they made it look like they breathed fire. He was also glad he had the bed closest to the door of their dorm when he heard Ronald's voice declare his attraction for one of the Durmstrang students, Hector Crumb or something. The tone of Weasley's voice was far too excited to be platonic.
He thought the Beauxbatons girls' entry was interesting, but he didn't understand it at all. The sighing and bending backward displayed flexibility, but that was the only thing he could take from it. He smiled and nodded as some of the new students smiled at him, as politeness dictated. He looked forward to maybe making friends with some of them over the course of the year. The names of the Triwizard Champions would be announced at Halloween, and that's when whoever they were would mostly withdraw from the school in order to train, so he had two months to get to know them first.
The Headmaster was still recovering in the Infirmary, so Professor McGonagall gave the welcome speech, and the Durmstrang students sat at the Slytherin table, the Beauxbatons at the Ravenclaw table. Harry smiled and waved at Luna, who was clearly happy for the chance to meet some new people.
Once the Feast began, Harry moved to the very end of the Gryffindor table and sat next to Mystery Girl.
"I apologize for interrupting your meal, Lady, but you leave me with something of a quandry." She looked up at him with wide eyes, and he noted again their warm, rich colour. "Have I offered you any offense? Any insult?"
She shook her head slowly.
Harry smiled. "Good, I'm glad. I was afraid I had slighted you somehow, maybe by intruding on your privacy on the train. It worried me."
She smiled shyly, then deliberately covered her teeth with her lips. Had she learned it from the Goblins?
"Might I have the pleasure of your name?" He asked.
He thought he heard a tiny squeak from her then, but he couldn't be sure.
She cleared her throat and breathed heavily for a moment. "Granger. Hermione." She said.
"Hermione! Stony queen, most noble and most fair! Descend; be stone no more. Approach and strike all that look upon thee with marvel." He smiled at her.
"You've read it?" She asked. Her disbelief was plain.
Harry nodded. "My older sisters went to muggle school and..." He could feel heat in his cheeks. Part of him didn't want to say, but he wanted to be a friend, so he pushed ahead despite the embarrassment. "They made me learn it and dress up to act parts out because Darcy was in a play. I think they just liked making me dress up in weird costumes."
She put her hand in front of her mouth and giggled, and her eyes lit up as she did. It was a wondrous thing to behold.
"I'd like to see that." She said, still smiling behind her hand.
He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Don't tell my sisters that, they'll do it again just for you - well, and their own amusement, of course." He grinned.
Her eyes flicked over his shoulder toward the other end of the table before they found his again, and then dropped to the tabletop. "Why are you being nice to me?" She asked in a small voice.
"I'm not being nice to you, Lady Granger. I'm just being me to you. I don't have any ulterior motive. I don't want anything from you, except maybe your company. Maybe even friendship, if it's not too much to ask. The way you've been treated is appalling and I won't stand for it. If that seems like being nice to you, then I'll accept being called nice."
She didn't say anything else. She didn't have to. Her eyes filled and she looked away. His instincts wanted him to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, but he knew that would be rude, presumptuous, and counterproductive. Friendships weren't built in a day.
"I'm sorry." He said softly. "I didn't come to make you cry. Thanks for telling me your name. Is it alright if I call you Hermione, my queen?"
She looked back at him, impish mischief dancing behind her unshed tears. "You can call me your queen any time, my loyal subject."
Harry chuckled. "Deal."