Chapter 21: Cursed
Hermione woke with a start, briefly disoriented before remembering that she was sleeping in a bed beside Harry's in the hospital wing. She bolted upright, worriedly peering at the source of her disrupted sleep.
Harry was tossing and turning, his covers twisting around him as he thrashed, hissing as if he were speaking in Parseltongue and his fringe was damp with cold sweat.
He was clearly having a nightmare or vision involving Voldemort. Panicked, Hermione briefly considered waking Madam Pomfrey whose quarters were located next to her office, or Dora who was sleeping in a bed by the entrance of the infirmary, then decided to try waking Harry herself first.
"Harry! Harry!" she said quietly, touching his shoulder.
"Harry, wake up!" she said a little louder, giving him a little shake.
Harry muttered something about Wormtail, his eyelids still closed. He almost appeared to be struggling to achieve consciousness.
"Harry! Please wake up," she begged.
Then it hit her. Hermione knew what to do. She leaned over and kissed Harry's dry lips, stroking his bird's-nest of hair. Harry's eyes shot open and Hermione released his lips from her own as he gasped for breath.
"Bloody hell!" Harry groaned, rubbing at his clearly painful scar. "It's like..." He frowned, apparently trying to think of a good metaphor. "It's like swimming through tar to get out of that. ... Thanks, Hermione! I could've been under for ages if you hadn't snogged me."
"You were having another nightmarish vision of Voldemort, weren't you?"
Harry nodded, then groaned and clutched at his scar again.
"Should we get Dumbledore?" Hermione asked anxiously.
"No!" said Harry, shaking his head and wincing again. "No need. It wasn't anything he needs to know immediately - it can wait till morning. Just remind me if I forget. ... Voldemort was angry about the Second Task, and still angry about losing Crouch and not having anyone to kidnap me. He was making a plan with Wormtail - but that part's hazy... I don't know what his plan was..."
"Everything all right over there?"
Hermione turned around to see the shadowy figure of Dora sitting up in her bed.
"It's Harry," she said, "He's had another one of those nightmares - you know, the real sort with Voldemort."
"Blimey!" Dora muttered. "Should we get Dumbledore?"
"Harry says it can wait till morning."
"Is 'e sure about that?"
"Yeah!" Harry called out in a hushed tone. "It's nothing urgent - really!"
"What about Pomfrey then?" asked Dora.
"Er..." Harry looked uncertain and rubbed at his scar again.
Hermione glanced at the vials of potion on his nightstand and saw what she was looking for.
"It's okay, Dora. Harry just needs a pain potion... I think." Hermione peered at Harry again. "What about a sleeping potion too? ...maybe a Dreamless Sleep potion? ...or a Calming Draught?"
"Erm..." Harry frowned pensively. "I think I'll be okay now," he said after a moment passed. "A pain potion ought to do it."
Hermione nodded and passed him a vial. Harry swigged it down in one gulp and looked relieved after about thirty seconds, then he smiled wryly.
"Yeah, that should do it. I'm just glad I don't need any more Blood-Replenishing potions."
"Hmm... As Madam Pomfrey's assistant, I'm sure I can find something else dreadful tasting for you," said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.
"No thank you! I'm fine!" Harry grinned.
"Well, if you don't want any more potions, I'll have to prescribe something else." Hermione kept up the little game, trying to maintain a straight face. "You look like you need something to settle your nerves, so how about a cuddle then?" .
"Er..." Harry glanced at Dora.
"Don't mind me," Dora chuckled. "I'm just watchin' the door, and I say you oughta follow your Healer's orders, Harry."
"Yeah, okay!" Harry let out an exaggerated sigh. "If you insist, Madam Granger, I suppose I could let you cuddle me..."
"Ow!" he yelped when Hermione gave him a little swat on the shoulder. "Whatever happened to the Hippo... er... the Hippopotamus Oath?"
"It's the Hippocratic Oath!" said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "And if you insist on disobeying Healer's orders, you can just forget about cuddles tomorrow night when we're alone too."
"Okay - all right! You win, Madam Granger!"
Harry grinned again and moved over to make room for Hermione who was giggling now, unable to keep up her straight face any longer. Hermione lay on top of the covers and snuggled right up against Harry, curling an arm around his waist and giving him a kiss on the cheek before resting her bushy head on his shoulder.
A little smile crept to Hermione's lips when she heard Harry sighing contentedly, and in no time at all they were both fast asleep again.
~o0o~
"Hmm..." Madam Pomfrey peered at Harry through narrowed eyes, her lips pursed. "Given how close you came to death yesterday, I'd like to keep you under observation the rest of the weekend, Mr. Potter."
"I'm fine now, really!" Harry peered back at Pomfrey pleadingly, then he gave Hermione a "Help-me" sort of look.
Hermione bit her lip, not sure if she should push her luck with Madam Pomfrey, but her desire to have a bit more privacy with Harry won out; she and Harry had both been very embarrassed when Pomfrey had found them still curled up together earlier that morning.
"Er... What if I promise to look after Harry the rest of this weekend?" she asked Pomfrey. "You did say I could be your assistant, and I promise I won't let him exert himself."
"Hmm..." This time Pomfrey arched her eyebrows as she peered at Hermione cannily. "That depends on what you mean by 'exerting himself.'"
Hermione's cheeks turned a deep rosy pink.
Harry stared blankly at Madam Pomfrey and Hermione, not sure what was going on. Then Pomfrey seemed to relent.
"Wait here for a moment, Miss Granger." Pomfrey strode back to her office.
Harry shot Hermione a questioning look while Pomfrey was gone, but Hermione kept mum, still blushing. Moments later Pomfrey returned and handed Hermione several vials of potion.
"Those are for Mr. Potter to help him rebuild his strength. Give him one tonight at bedtime and the other two are for tomorrow - one at breakfast, and the other again at bedtime."
Then Pomfrey handed Hermione another potion. "This one is for you - just in case you and Potter were planning on 'exerting yourselves.'"
Hermione let out a little "eep" and her rosy cheeks turned scarlet; she quickly put the vial in her pocket. Harry gawked, still feeling utterly clueless as he quickly dressed behind the curtain when Pomfrey left them both to it. When he was finished dressing, Hermione grabbed his hand and marched him out of the hospital wing.
"Er... what was that all about?" he asked her, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"You wanted to see Professor Dumbledore didn't you?" said Hermione curtly, ignoring his question. "Now focus on what's important so you can remember every little detail."
"Er... Okay?" Harry glanced back at Dora who was trailing behind them. Dora shrugged, but Harry could have sworn he saw the barest hint of a smirk on her otherwise neutral features.
As it turned out, Harry ended up being glad that Hermione had kept quiet the rest of the way to Dumbledore's office. It really had allowed him time to gather his thoughts and recall as much of his sleeping-vision as possible.
"...but that's it," Harry concluded after giving Dumbledore everything that he'd seen. "I'm still not sure where they're holed up, and I didn't get the details of their plan other than that it doesn't seem to involve me anymore. That part was a bit fuzzy."
Dumbledore stroked his long silvery beard pensively, his crystal blue eyes gazing at Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles. Fawkes let out a little trill and ruffled his feathers. Then Dumbledore nodded.
"Thank you, Harry. Under the circumstances you did very well indeed. Engaging in Legilimency or Occlumency when one is sleeping is exceedingly difficult for even the most experienced - it is not something which can be achieved without much practice, and in many cases it can take years to perfect the technique.
"You, however, have an extraordinary amount of Willpower, a talent which Professor Moody confirmed after testing your ability to shrug off the Imperius Curse with so little effort. It would seem that Barty Crouch Junior was a rather effective teacher - something Voldemort will no doubt come to regret.
"In my estimation, I believe that you could achieve enough Dream-Control to utilise your Legilimency and Occlumency skills - which are coming along nicely, I might add - in a matter of weeks."
"Seriously?" Harry gaped at Dumbledore, feeling a bit bewildered. To be perfectly honest, he still felt pretty useless at Occlumency and Legilimency.
"See, Harry?" said Hermione excitedly, "I told you that you were doing brilliantly but that it wouldn't come overnight."
"Indeed, Miss Granger is quite correct, Harry," Dumbledore responded, his eyes twinkling. "And I must say, Miss Granger, that you are exceeding all expectations as well - your ability to focus even under stressful conditions will stand you in good stead when we begin practicing techniques to develop Dream-Control."
By the time Harry and Hermione left Dumbledore's office it was getting on for lunch time, and Harry was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Dumbledore was pleased with his progress in Legilimency and Occlumency.
"I dunno, Hermione, I think Dumbledore was just trying to make me feel better - you know, to help me build my confidence."
"Don't be silly, Harry," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "Dumbledore wouldn't say something like that if he didn't think it was true. You're doing brilliantly!"
"But I'm not even close to being as good as you!" Harry argued, growing frustrated; if there was one thing he hated, it was being coddled when he knew he was rubbish at something.
Hermione came to a dead halt and turned to face him, giving him a glare.
"Harry James Potter, at the end of First Year I told you that you were a great wizard! I meant it then, and I mean it now!" she said angrily. "Yes - I may have more focus than you, and yes I even have more knowledge than you - but you have more raw power than I'll ever have. I still haven't managed to throw off the Imperius curse more than twice - you can do it every time.
"And look at your Patronus! Dumbledore is supposedly the most powerful Patronus caster in over two hundred years. You're the only wizard I know of who can match him and you were only thirteen when you did - he's nearly a hundred and fifteen. Eventually you'll be even more powerful than Dumbledore is, and that is why you're going to defeat Voldemort - not because you know more magic than him - obviously you don't - but because you're stronger than him!
"Do you remember what else I told you at the end of First Year? Do you?"
"Erm..." Harry gulped, vaguely recollecting something about books. All he could really remember properly was Hermione's hug - as embarrassed as he had been, he had also been afraid it might be the last hug he would ever get. He wasn't sure that he could have survived Voldemort without that hug.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Let me refresh your memory, Harry, I said, 'Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and -'" Hermione paused, her cheeks taking on the same rosy tinge that they had earlier that morning. She took a deep breath and decided she was going to tell Harry what she had been too afraid to say at the time.
"I... er, I was about to say something else," said Hermione, her features and tone softening, "but I was too scared to. I was going to say, '- friendship and bravery... and love,'... Ginny Weasley isn't the only girl who ever had a crush on you, you know! But I'd like to think that my crush was based on knowing the real you! ... Not some fantasy knight-in-shining-armour hero! ... But a boy - a boy who was kind to a girl he thought was bossy - a boy who was brave even when he was scared to death - when you leapt on the back of that troll you looked terrified, but you didn't let that stop you..."
Hermione trailed off as she looked into Harry's glistening green eyes, her heart racing. Without another word - in that moment not caring that they were in a very public corridor - she reached both hands around the back of his head and drew him closer - close enough to kiss.
An electric charge shot through Hermione when their lips touched and for a brief, timeless moment the world fell away. A rush of elation flowed through her from head to toe as it had on their very first kiss, stars bursting like fireworks all around her.
When their lips finally parted, Harry's eyes looked glazed over and a soppy grin was plastered on his face. Panting breathlessly and feeling as giddy as Harry looked, Hermione beamed back at him.
"I love you to bits, Harry," she whispered, "because I know the realyou!"
~o0o~
When Harry and Hermione entered the Great Hall together for lunch, they knew something was up. All eyes were upon them and the Hall filled with whispers and giggles.
Harry glanced at Ron to see a look on his face that he had hoped he'd never see again. Neville's face turned crimson the moment he saw Harry. Lavender was moaning and had her face buried in both hands; Parvati managed to look both embarrassed and amused at the same time. Fleur was tittering; she waved at Dora.
Luna was sitting with Ginny at the Gryffindor table looking serene while Ginny was shaking her head, looking torn between fury and laughter. Fred and George took one look at Harry and Hermione and sniggered.
Harry was considering making a run for it and skipping lunch, but Hermione was still clutching his hand tightly. Reckoning that out of the lot, Luna looked the most approachable, Hermione made a beeline for her, dragging Harry along behind.
"What's going on?" she asked Luna.
"Oh, just another article by Rita Skeeter," Luna offered nonchalantly, "It's full of lies of course, but it's very entertaining."
"Sure! If you think making us all look like sex-crazed-maniacs entertaining," Ginny grumbled.
"What are you talking about? Making who look like sex-crazed-maniacs?" Hermione demanded.
Harry didn't want to know. He had a very bad feeling about this.
"Here, see for yourself." Ginny thrust the Witch Weekly magazine into Hermione's hands.
Hermione's eyes nearly flew out of her head. At first she felt a hot rush of anger, but as she read through the article she began to giggle, and she had to clap her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing hysterically.
"What's so funny?" Harry wanted to know. "And why is everyone staring at us?"
Hermione's laughter faded and she looked at Harry anxiously, knowing that he wouldn't like this at all.
"Erm... Here," she said squeakily, passing him the magazine, her hand trembling.
What the...? Bloody Hell!" Harry's jaw dropped in horror, his eyeballs glued to the headline and the accompanying photographs. He tore his eyes away and began reading the article.
Scandal At Hogwarts
Harry Potter's Secret Harem
by Rita Skeeter
While canvassing Hogsmeade in search of human interest stories to explore the impact of the Triwizard Tournament on the local residents, intrepid reporter Rita Skeeter's inquisitive instincts were piqued when discovering older man Harry Potter, and his even older soon-to-be wife, Hermione Granger (the plain and ambitious muggleborn riding on Potter's famous and wealthy coat-tails to improve her lowly status in our noble wizarding society) with two innocent young girls, Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley, in a local Tavern notorious for salacious trysts.
Disturbed by the implications of such unsavoury and inappropriate liaisons with underage girls, the award-winning journalist and her crack research team set out to investigate further the depths of depravity to which Potter and Granger might sink. What we found was even more shocking than one could possibly imagine.
And if the images captured at the conclusion of the Triwizard Tournament's Second Task are any indication, Potter and Granger appear to have also drawn the French Champion into their circle of lust.
"Yes, Potter and his fiancée are always hanging out with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil too," says Millicent Bulstrode, a demure and wholesome fourth year student.
Lavender Brown is, of course, the girlfriend of none other than Bulgarian Bonbon and International Heartthrob, Viktor Krum. We have no word yet on how he is taking this devastating emotional blow. He is no doubt too grief-stricken to face the public in his shame.
When seeking to discover the means by which Potter, Granger, and their French Lover are enticing their unsuitably young companions, this reporter discovered that they may be employing the use of the Imperius Curse - which, as everyone knows, is a highly illegal curse in the class of the Unforgivables. The aforementioned Miss Bulstrode assures us that Potter and Granger are extraordinarily skilled in the Dark Arts - both of them shrugging off the effects of the Curse themselves with great ease, and both more than capable of casting dangerous curses.
"I'm sure that's how they're doing it," Miss Bulstrode went on to say nervously, clearly afraid that she could be Potter and Granger's next victim. "They're brilliant in Defence Against the Dark Arts because they're so knowledgeable about curses - always at the top of the class."
As if that weren't bad enough, a number of other students have come forward to report that Mr. Potter has an exceedingly rare talent associated with Salazar Slytherin, a notorious Dark wizard long disowned by those who reside in the House named for him at Hogwarts.
"Everyone knows that Potter's a Parselmouth," a wide-eyed young Draco Malfoy informed us. And indeed, a few brave souls such as Hufflepuff Justin Finch-Fletchley confirmed this hair-raising information, though some are still too terrified of Mr. Potter to reveal their identities.
This stunning revelation would appear to indicate that Mr. Potter's unique Parseltongue abilities may be too titillating and tantalisingly temptatious for young girls to refuse his nefarious advances. Is Mr. Potter a Dark wizard in training, employing his Cunning Tongue to ensnare young victims, only to subdue them with illegal curses, then to share them with his insatiable fiancée and their French Mistress in orgiastic Bacchanalian rituals of debauchery and depravity?
One might hope that Headmaster Dumbledore would look into these shocking allegations. But given his encroaching senility, and his penchant for employing dangerous halfbreeds, it is no wonder that these goings-on have thus far escaped his Eagle-Eye.
Dora giggled uncontrollably when she picked up the paper and read it for herself.
"This is bloody hilarious!" she wheezed, shooting a grin at Fleur who was still tittering and looking as if she wouldn't mind participating in an orgy at all.
Ron finally plucked up the nerve to voice his opinion.
"Bloody hell, Harry!" he said in a deeply wounded tone, "Why didn't you tell me you and Hermione were engaged? ... And how come you didn't let me in on the orgies?"
Harry groaned and slumped forward on the House Table, seriously considering slamming his head into it a number of times until he was comatose. Why was he always cursed to be the centre of attention?
Lavender and Parvati both shot Ron vicious death-glares, and Ginny flung a ladleful of mashed potatoes across the table which hit Ron square in the face, gobs of it flying everywhere.
"Oi!" yelled Ron angrily, wiping mashed potato from his eyelids.
"I'm supposedly in the harem too, you stupid prat!" Ginny snarled.
Fred and George both burst into loud guffaws and were laughing so hard that they fell out of their seats...
Chapter 22: Sweet Revenge
Ron stared at Ginny, gaping at her, mashed potato still covering most of his face, which was growing redder by the second judging by the colour of his ears. For a moment he felt torn between being cross at Harry, angry at Ginny, and confusion. Then Ginny's point finally seemed to reach its target somewhere in Ron's frontal lobes.
"Bloody hell!" he groaned, horrified. "I'm sorry, Ginny! You didn't really think I wanted to, er... you know, with you, did you?"
"Of course not, dimwit!" Ginny rolled her eyes and huffed. "Though I wasn't entirely sure for a moment. ... I think you were just thinking about harems and orgies, saw a redhead, and forgot that I'm your sister!"
Fred and George howled with laughter again.
"Good one, Ron!" Fred guffawed, slapping him on the back. "Maybe we should tell Mum to start planning the wedding."
Ginny rolled her eyes again but otherwise ignored Fred as she continued. "... And I think you forgot that all the other girls supposedly in the 'harem' are sitting at this table."
"Oh! Er..."
Ron gulped and peered shiftily at Lavender and Parvati who were still glowering at him, and shot sidelong glances at Hermione, Luna, and Fleur, who all looked more amused than anything.
In truth, Ron hadn't forgotten that at all, but it didn't seem like a very good idea to admit that he had been hoping that he could convince Harry to let him join in the fun with all of them. Neville raised his eyebrows at Ron, giving him an "I-know-exactly-what-you're-thinking" sort of look.
"Erm, sorry..." Ron mumbled as he picked up a napkin and started wiping the rest of the mashed potato from his face. "Ginny's right! I wasn't thinking... I'm an idiot!"
Hoping that would settle the matter, Ron grew alarmed when Ginny groaned and looked aggravated again. He heard giggling behind him and gulped, hastily trying to get the last bits of mashed potato off, wondering if a load of girls had come to laugh at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a few other Gryffindor girls in Ginny's year; one of them was Romilda something or other - he'd never really paid attention.
The gaggle of giggling girls whispered and pushed Romilda-Something-or-Other forward. She grinned awkwardly and cleared her throat.
"Erm... er, Hi, Harry," said Romilda-Something-or-Other brightly, batting her eyelashes in what she clearly hoped was a sexy manner, "We were just wondering if... er... if we could join your harem..."
~o0o~
The rest of Saturday after Rita Skeeter's article could have been worse, Hermione supposed. Yes, whispers, giggles, and some nasty comments followed them around the castle. But besides Romilda Vane and her friends, a few other girls from other Houses had either approached Harry, or had struck seductive poses, whenever they spotted him passing by in the corridors.
Several girls had even shyly approached Hermione - including Susan Bones surprisingly enough.
The most startling encounter was when a stunningly pretty, dark-haired, older Slytherin girl - perhaps in sixth or seventh year - sat down in an armchair next to Hermione's in the library. The dark-haired girl glanced around to make sure no other Slytherins were nearby and said in a hushed, sultry tone, "You and Potter can imperius me anytime, Granger!"
Then the Slytherin girl rose to her feet and Hermione gaped at her, speechless, as she slinkily sauntered away wiggling her bum. Dora, who was sitting nearby reading a comic, chortled and shook her head, admiring the view.
"What was that all about?" asked Harry when he popped out from behind a tall bookshelf and sat next to Hermione, narrowing his eyes at the Slytherin girl who was now at the library entrance. "She wasn't giving you a hard time was she?"
Hermione shook her bushy head, still shocked. "No! She wanted to join the harem!"
"Blimey! ... A Slytherin? Really?"
And it was much like that the whole weekend. Hermione really wasn't sure what to think. She was happy now with knowing that Harry seemed thoroughly perturbed about the whole affair, and that at least she had a good excuse to spend Saturday and Sunday night in Harry's quarters. She could fall back on her interpretation of Madam Pomfrey's instructions if anyone pressed her on the issue.
Hermione and Harry never went beyond cuddling and bit of handsy snogging though, Madam Pomfrey's unspoken interpretation of "exerting themselves" weighing heavily on Hermione's mind.
She had peered at the vial of potion which Madam Pomfrey had given her both nights while Harry was cleaning his teeth and changing into his pyjamas in the bathroom, wondering if she actually felt ready to take things to the next level yet, then quickly hiding the vial in her book-bag when Harry returned.
The idea of going further with Harry was very tempting, but it had barely been a week since they had even "fiddled" with each other for the first time and showered together for the first time, after all. And now Hermione was feeling extremely self-conscious after Rita Skeeter's article - especially given the whispers of "slut" and "whore" which had reached her ears.
So she tried her best to put it all out of her mind and just enjoy the cuddling and the kissing and sleeping in the same bed with Harry. Fortunately, both nights Harry had seemed just as pleased to keep things simple as Hermione was, despite his all too obvious arousal. Late Sunday night, after Harry had fallen asleep, she remained awake for a while anxiously thinking about Monday morning.
Hermione had a choice of waking up early enough for them both to take separate showers and leaving Harry to either relieve himself or take a cold shower, or taking a shower with him again and fixing his "problem" for him with a quick wank. She eventually fell asleep still feeling unsettled.
~o0o~
Harry yawned, pleased to find Hermione still nestled beside him when he awoke, wishing she could stay every night. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was early enough for a quick shower and still give Hermione time for her own.
He was more than happy to take care of himself and let Hermione move things along at her own pace, and truth be told he was very unnerved by all of the harem stuff. Harry had struggled mightily not to hex to oblivion Zacharias Smith and some of the others who had muttered horrible things about Hermione "under their breath" but loud enough to be heard.
Showered and dressed, Harry returned to his bedroom to find Hermione awake and looking very relieved.
"Thank you, Harry," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek as she made her way to the bathroom.
~o0o~
Even though Lavender and Parvati had still sat with Harry and Hermione at mealtimes over the weekend, seeking safety in numbers, they all turned pink when they arrived at the entrance of McGonagall's classroom Monday morning.
They stood there for a moment awkwardly peering at each other; Harry reckoned everyone was having the exact same problem. Should they enter the classroom first and Lavender and Parvati wait a few minutes before entering - or should Lavender and Parvati go first?
"Oh, this is stupid! Let's just go in together," said Parvati, breaking the silence. "So what if everyone thinks we're having orgies? They're just jealous! Bugger them!"
Hermione let out a sigh of relief and beamed at Parvati.
"I agree completely!" said Hermione, head held high. "I didn't want to be presumptuous though."
Lavender and Harry gave each other a look, both of them still uncertain as they followed Parvati and Hermione into the classroom.
"So, er... How is Viktor taking things?" Harry asked Lavender as they all took seats. He was pleased to see Lavender looking relieved.
"Oh, he didn't care at all, thank goodness!" she said. "He said he never believed a word and had a good laugh about it, actually."
Feeling better on that score, Harry grinned when he caught Ron's eye as Ron entered with Neville. Ron's ears turned bright-red and he quickly averted his gaze. Harry sighed. Ron had been avoiding all of them all weekend. Harry knew that Ron was just feeling thoroughly embarrassed for being a bit of an idiot though, and hoped he'd get over it soon.
Seamus and Dean entered next, both grinning at Harry and shooting him thumbs-up as they had every time they had seen him over the weekend. Parvati and Hermione both rolled their eyes and Lavender stuck her tongue out at them.
As Monday wore on, Seamus and Dean eventually got bored with teasing Harry, and Neville kept Ron company who was still too embarrassed to look at anyone. But for Harry and Hermione, their trepidation only grew as Double Potions with Snape and the Slytherins that afternoon drew nearer.
And knowing how Harry and Hermione were often received by Snape and the Slytherins, Lavender and Parvati's anxiety increased; they had a bad feeling that they wouldn't be able to fade into the background as they usually did. Parvati just hoped the plan she'd made with Hermione would at least shut the Slytherins up.
Of course they found a gang of Slytherins standing in a huddle outside the classroom door, though Daphne Greengrass and Pansy were separated from the pack, looking rather disgusted.
"Look, here they come!" Millicent shouted, waving around her copy of Witch Weekly.
The other Slytherin girls who weren't Daphne or Pansy turned around and giggled. Draco smirked, looking insufferably smug as Crabbe and Goyle sniggered sycophantically beside him.
"Well, if it isn't the Parselmouth, Harem Lord Potter himself," Draco drawled. "How'd you like my interview, Potter? Been putting that Cunning Tongue of yours to use on Brown and Patil have you."
Lavender turned as red as a fire-engine. Hermione gave Parvati an almost imperceptible nod; Harry frowned, wondering what that was all about.
"You're all just jealous!" Parvati scoffed. "Too bad none of the girls would go to the Yule Ball with you, Malfoy - getting lonely are you? ... And you're probably diddling yourself while fantasising about being in Harry's Harem, aren't you, Bulstrode?"
"Er..." Harry wasn't sure he liked where this was heading.
"And I'll have you know, Harry's tongue is heavenly!" Parvati added brightly.
To Harry's great shock, Parvati suddenly turned around and pulled him into an embrace, kissing him heatedly. Eyes wide with panic, he was surprised to see Hermione beaming at the pair of them.
"Oh, yes," Hermione told the Slytherins cheerfully, "I'm more than happy to share Harry. The orgies are wonderful!"
Parvati let go of Harry, giving him a wink before turning and giving Hermione a big kiss on the lips as well. Now that he knew what was going on, Harry couldn't help grinning at Malfoy's shocked expression.
"Yeah, they're great, Malfoy! Bet you wish you had a harem!"
"You... What...?" Malfoy sputtered, "But... Delacour too?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "You were there - you saw Fleur snog me and Hermione after the Second Task! The picture's in Bulstrode's magazine if you're looking for something to wank to."
Malfoy turned on Millicent Bulstrode furiously.
"I thought you said it was all fake!" he snarled. "You told me you and Skeeter cooked the whole thing up!"
"She told me it was fake!" said Bulstrode, who looked just as appalled as Malfoy. "Skeeter asked me if I wanted to help her get back at Granger and Potter!"
"Does that look fake to you?" Malfoy snapped, pointing at Parvati who was still snogging Hermione.
"Er... no!" Bulstrode squeaked helplessly. Daphne and Pansy seemed to have caught on though; they were both giggling madly.
Harry heard a, "Bloody hell!" behind him and turned to see Ron and Neville both staring slack-jawed at Parvati and Hermione.
"It's all for show," Harry hissed under his breath, jerking his head in the direction of the Slytherins.
Ron and Neville both burst into laughter when they saw the outraged expressions on the Slytherins' faces and Malfoy and Bulstrode arguing. Then Ron raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, peering at Hermione and Parvati.
"Still... looks like you might get lucky after all, Harry," he said quietly, smirking.
Parvati and Hermione fell apart in the nick of time. Snape strode up the dungeon corridor, his robes billowing, and scowled at Harry, Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati, who were all the picture of innocence.
"Enough dilly-dallying," Snape snapped. "Ten points from Gryffindor for dawdling."
As everyone entered the classroom, Bulstrode angrily flung the Witch Weekly magazine at Hermione who deftly caught it. Hermione set the magazine on the table and giggled as everyone in class took their seats. Apparently, Snape heard, because he spun around furiously.
"That's another ten points from Gryffindor for disrupting the class, Granger..."
Then Snape's gaze fell upon the magazine beside her. His lips curled into a venomous sneer; he stalked across the classroom and snatched it off the table.
~o0o~
Severus Snape had been seething since the Second Task on Friday, and all the attention that Potter and his little harem had been receiving over the weekend had infuriated him even more. It was James Potter all over again - girls hanging all over him, swooning, throwing themselves at his feet. Potter could have had the lot, but he just had to go and steal Lily!
Skeeter and veracity had a dubious relationship at best, Snape had thought, but there was often a kernel of truth behind her exaggerations. She had been right about Potter and Granger's little trysts after all, and Snape didn't doubt for a moment that Potter had drawn to himself a stable of young witches attracted to his wholly undeserved fame.
That Granger was part of it all was a bit surprising at first, but Snape should have seen it coming; it was always the buttoned-up types who were insatiable when they finally cut loose.
Snape hadn't used or even thought the word "Mudblood" in his head for years - not since Lily had died. But it reared its ugly head once again, unbidden, shocking him at first as it passed through his frontal lobes. Then, still seething, Snape allowed himself to give way to that impulse - for Granger the word couldn't be more apt.
Of course a Filthy Mudblood would fall for Potter - of course a Filthy Mudblood would whore herself out for Potter's fame and fortune - of course a Filthy Mudblood would revel in debauchery and licentiousness.
No doubt Potter and Granger's little sex-cult were already exploring the boundaries of sex-magic; the very thought made Snape want to vomit.
Dark magic was clean and pure - unfixed and eternal - it was mutable, indestructible, and unencumbered by petty, wanton desires which clouded the mind. Sex-magic was sordid and sloppy - it was chaotic, fleeting and obscene - it was wallowing in Filth and Mud.
And when he spotted Potter and Granger's Witch Weeklymagazine lying on the table, he knew they were just gloating and rubbing it all in his face. Snape swooped down on the degenerate pair and snatched the magazine from the table.
"That's another twenty points you've cost Gryffindor, Granger," he said icily, hiding his malevolent glee at having another excuse to punish Potter through his slutty Mudblood.
"Let's see," he sneered, his dark eyes glittering, "What sort of outside reading material do we have here? ... Ah, yes, of course..." he said loudly for the benefit of the class, "No doubt Potter and Granger are eager to flaunt their tawdry affairs."
"Harry Potter's Secret Harem!" Snape read off the page, his lips curling into an unpleasant leer as he glanced at Lavender and Parvati as well. "My, my! ... Who knew, Potter? Quite the Lothario aren't you?"
Looking up from the page, Snape was startled to see Potter give a little nonchalant shrug instead of burning in shame. It was supposed to be a "Secret Harem" wasn't it? Hidden to keep Potter's wholesome reputation intact?
"Well, well, well, quite the little deviant, I see, Potter!" Snape carried on vindictively. "'Inappropriate liaisons with underage girls'? ... It's a surprise you aren't in Azkaban already! ... What's this - the Imperius Curse? Perhaps I should be calling the Aurors - though I suppose that falls under the purview of the headmaster.
"Oho - I see that you have been causing Miss Bulstrode to fear for her safety. As her Head of House that is something I can do something about. Let's make that another thirty points from Granger - I expect her to know better than a hormone addled teenage boy..."
Snape paused and peered at the class and the pair of perverts to see what sort of effect he was having. The Slytherin students were oddly silent, looking sullen and sulky, not laughing uproariously as he had expected. Granger seemed strangely unimpressed, almost bored, and Potter... Potter was staring at him blankly, looking more bewildered than anything.
"Er... isn't this supposed to be a Potions Lesson sir?" Potter asked innocently. "It's just... I thought we were supposed to be learning something important."
Weasley and Finnegan both sniggered loudly. Snape glared at them.
"That's ten points apiece, Weasley, Finnegan, for your cheek!"
Glowering at Potter, "Since you're so eager to learn, Potter, I think your little harem can do without you for now - that table in front of my desk. Move. Now," he barked.
"Yes sir," said Potter politely. "Of course, sir!"
~o0o~
Harry struggled to keep a straight face and not burst into laughter as he hauled his bag and his cauldron full of potions ingredients to the front of the class. Seeing Snape's face turn more and more purple - a shade which Uncle Vernon would be proud of - was worth every point lost.
"The potions recipe is on the blackboard" Snape snarled at the class. "Get to work!"
Snape sat behind his desk, staring at Harry, his features a picture of barely contained rage. Harry ignored him and began mashing up his scarab beetles for the potion.
Not more than fifteen minutes had passed before Snape was up again. He hovered behind Harry, no doubt hoping to make him angry and distract him as usual. Snape leaned over, so close to Harry's ear that Harry could feel his hot breath on the back of his neck.
"I suppose you think you're clever," Snape hissed quietly. "You and that over-inflated head of yours! You may have Dumbledore fooled, but I can see right through you! Your celebrity status means less than nothing to me. ... As far as I'm concerned, you're just a nasty little hooligan who should be expelled, and if I ever catch you sneaking into my storeroom to steal Boomslang Skin again, I shall make certain that you are!"
"Er... That wasn't me," said Harry blandly. "That was the fake Moody - for his polyjuice potion, remember?"
Harry could almost hear Snape grinding his teeth. Then the hot breath on the back of Harry's neck was gone and Snape was sitting at his desk, glaring at him once more.
Chapter 23: Paranoid
There were still two minutes to go before the bell and Harry was already cleaning off his table and packing up his gear, having already turned in a flawless potion, much to Snape's fury. Harry was beginning to suspect that Dumbledore had ordered Snape to lay off docking points from him for inconsequential reasons, as Snape had gone after everyone else but him today.
In his haste to leave with Hermione, who was waiting for him by the door while everyone else began filing out of the classroom, Harry knocked over his bottle of armadillo bile.
"Crap!" he muttered.
Harry ducked down under the table to clean up the mess, and frowned when he heard Snape bark at Hermione.
"What are you still doing here, Granger? Out now! ... Or I'll dock another ten points from Gryffindor."
Harry heard Hermione's footsteps quickly exiting the classroom and another, heavier sounding set of footsteps entering the classroom. Cautiously, Harry peeked over the top of the desk, hidden behind his cauldron, and saw Karkaroff. Karkaroff? What was Karkaroff doing here?
Apparently Snape was thinking along the same lines.
"What do you want, Igor?" he snapped. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
"You know why I'm here!" Karkaroff hissed through gritted teath. "This!"
Karkaroff yanked up the sleeve of his left arm. Harry's eyes widened with shock, briefly catching a glimpse of a tattoo - more like red burn scars really, as if Karkaroff had been branded - a tattoo of a symbol which Harry recognised all too well.
"Put that away!" Snape snarled. "Not here, not now!"
"You must have felt it too! And look - it's never been more clear! He's back from the dead - he must be!"
"I said not now, Igor!" Snape spat. "This is not the time or place."
Harry ducked back down under the table again, his heart pounding. Snape had one too! He had a Dark Mark! Why else would Karkaroff have said that Snape must have felt it too?
Snape must have just noticed that Harry's cauldron was still on the table because suddenly he called out.
"Potter! What are you still doing here?"
Shaking, Harry popped out from under the table, desperately trying to look like he'd been under it the whole time.
"Er... Armadillo Bile, Professor! I dropped it and I was just cleaning it up." Harry held up his wet rag.
"Get out! NOW!" said Snape furiously.
Harry grabbed his cauldron, thanking small mercies that the rest of his stuff was already in it, and fled the classroom, leaving behind two highly agitated professors - professors who were Death Eaters!
"Harry!" Hermione squeaked anxiously when the classroom door slammed behind him. "What happened? What took you so long? I saw Karkaroff go in, then I heard raised voices."
"Hang on. I'll tell you in a minute. Let's just get out of here!"
Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and practically sprinted down the dungeon passages and then up the stone steps, emerging into the Entrance Hall, looking around wildly, trying to decide where he could get to the quickest.
"Harry, what...?"
"Outside - I'll tell you outside."
Hermione fell silent and followed Harry out through the massive oak front doors without question. Harry glanced around and spotted a copse of Ash-trees surrounded by Hawthorn bushes not too far away. He hurriedly made a beeline across the lawn with Hermione in tow.
In the middle of the copse under the foliage was a perfect little clearing hidden by the Hawthorn. Harry quickly set his cauldron down and sat on the ground, leaning his back against a tree-trunk and panting. Hermione followed suit, sitting right next to him, also gasping for air. She remained quiet, waiting for Harry to catch his breath.
Finally, Harry felt his breathing slow, though his heart kept thudding.
"Can you tell me now?" asked Hermione, looking very worried.
"Yeah - listen, you're not going to believe this, but please, give me a chance! Hear me out! I promise it's all true..."
Harry anxiously told Hermione everything he had just heard and seen, and she listened intently without interruption. She had that sort of skeptical look in her eye when he had finished and his heart fell.
"Please, you have to believe me," he begged.
Hermione flung her arms around Harry, embracing him tightly.
"Of course I believe you, Harry!" she said earnestly. "And your deduction is very logical. Snape must be a Death Eater too if Karkaroff was mentioning that Snape had to have felt whatever it is too - maybe itching, or a burning sensation in their scars - sort of how yours feels when Voldemort is near or you're feeling his emotions.
"But think about it, Harry. They must be ex-Death Eaters. Karkaroff is clearly worried about Voldemort being back, and he expected Snape to be too. ... I know Snape is absolutely awful, but Dumbledore must trust him for some reason."
"Okay, that makes sense about Karkaroff - he was definitely worried about Voldemort being back. But what if he was wrong to believe that Snape might be worried too? What if Dumbledore's wrong?" said Harry, a note of frustration creeping into his voice. "Snape obviously hates me..."
"...because he hated your father! I know, Harry! But then he would have been working with Crouch Junior, or with Wormtail before that, wouldn't he? Snape actually seemed to be trying to protect us from Sirius. ... And look at when he tried to stop Quirrell from killing you when Dumbledore suspected Quirrell was working for Voldemort...,"
"Maybe," Harry admitted begrudgingly. "But what if Snape has to keep up appearances because he's spying on us for Voldemort now? ... He didn't seem to know that Voldemort was actually possessing Quirrell, and he might have just thought Quirrell was really just trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone for himself. And for all we know, Snape could have really been trying to help Wormtail escape, couldn't he?"
"I know it all seems very suspicious," said Hermione, "but Professor Moody is an ex-Auror who fought against Death Eaters with Dumbledore. I can't imagine that between them they don't know that Snape used to be a Death Eater, and that they would let him teach here if he still was one. ... Dumbledore is a Legilimens after all."
"But it all comes down to whether they're actually right about Snape... ," Harry retorted, "...that he's not a Death Eater anymore - doesn't it? If Snape is really brilliant at Occlumency, say, he could have fooled them, right? Barty Crouch Junior fooled Dumbledore."
Hermione sighed, then she nodded.
"That's very true, Harry," she conceded. "You're right! But if that's the case - that Snape's a spy - then no matter how badly he treats us, he still can't actually do anything to you if he's got to keep up appearances to fool Dumbledore and Moody into believing that he's on their side now.
"And at least we know that they're trying to protect you - and we've got Dora - she's shadowing us right now, isn't she - just staying out of sight. ... If Snape were to try anything, he'd be finished as a spy, and I don't doubt for a minute that between Dora and Moody and Dumbledore and Flitwick and McGonagall - he'd be cooked.
"Ever since Crouch Junior was caught, they've all been on high alert - and given you private quarters with loads of protection charms, and alerted all the portraits and ghosts in the castle to keep an eye on things, and put up charms to detect Polyjuice imposters, and anti-portkey charms, and..."
"...and there are anti-apparition charms and probably other stuff too." Harry nodded, starting to feel more cheered. "Yeah, you're right, Hermione! There's too many protection charms up now - There's no way Snape could kidnap me or you or anyone else at Hogwarts now.
"And Voldemort's obviously stuck on doing me in himself - he'd probably kill Snape if Snape killed me, or tipped Dumbledore off by killing someone else! Snape would probably do a bunk before doing any of those things, and, er..."
Harry gave Hermione a lopsided, slightly abashed looking grin. "...and Snape might actually be an ex-Death Eater who switched sides and is really trying to help Dumbledore now and I'm just being totally paranoid because..."
"...because Professor Snape is still quite horrid and nasty and dreadful and hateful and awful and bullying and vindictive?" Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, half scowling and half smiling.
"I was just going to say, 'still evil,' but yeah!" Harry grinned.
"Yes!" said Hermione, grinning back. "If Snape really is trying to help protect Hogwarts, he's not exactly giving us any reason not to be paranoid, is he?"
"I'll try not to worry about it too much then," said Harry, leaning closer to Hermione and putting an arm around her; he kissed the top of her bushy head as she nestled into the crook of his shoulder, "I can think of loads better things to do with our time."
"Mmm... Me too," Hermione agreed, wrapping both arms around his middle and sighing happily.
~o0o~
Deciding that they had had enough excitement for the day, Harry and Hermione thought that it might be better to avoid the Gryffindor Common Room - where word of their exploits was no doubt making the rounds already - and went back to his quarters to do their homework together.
Harry was working on a particularly difficult translation for an essay for his Beginning Runes lessons. Hermione peered over his shoulder to take a look.
"Very good, Harry!" she said, sounding really pleased.
"And you're almost right with that one." Hermione pointed at a word in his translation of the Nordic Rune-set. "It's supposed to be 'vargr', the singular, not 'vargar', the plural."
"Thanks, Hermione!" Harry quickly made the correction in both the Nordic word and the English translation. "Wolf - not wolves! Got it! Blimey - translations are hard. I'm lucky I'm good at the calligraphy, and I'm really lucky to have someone amazing like you to help me with the translations."
Hermione beamed and gave Harry a kiss on the cheek. She seemed to have something on her mind though, because she kept looking at him with a slightly amused almost-smile.
"So - how was it?" she asked.
"Er... what?"
"The kiss with Parvati - how was it?"
Harry gulped and began to panic. What was the right answer to this question? If he said it was dreadful Hermione might admonish him for taking it too seriously - that he should have known it didn't mean anything. If he said he kind of liked it - well, that was sure to be a disaster!
"Er... it was dreadful," he said, going with Option A.
Hermione swatted his shoulder and giggled.
"Oh come on, Harry! Don't take things so seriously. Be honest."
"Well..." said Harry very carefully, trying to figure out how to work his way through the minefield. "Maybe it wasn't dreadful - I, er, suppose it was alright, maybe nice even... But it wasn't nearly as nice as kissing you!"
"Good answer!" Hermione grinned and leaned forward, giving him a proper kiss.
"I meant every word of it," said Harry, grinning back at her when the kiss was finished. "There may be loads of nice girls out there... but none of them are you! I can't imagine ever wanting to be with anyone else! ... You're perfect!"
For a moment Hermione peered at him with her big brown eyes and she almost looked like she was about to cry. Harry was beginning to wonder if he'd said something wrong, then Hermione suddenly pounced on him, knocking his Runes book on the floor, pinning him to the sofa and kissing him heatedly.
When their lips finally parted they both panted breathlessly, green eyes meeting brown once more.
"I love you so much, Harry Potter," she said softly.
"I love you too, Hermione Granger."
The moment of meeting eyes seemed to hover in time... and then they were kissing again, arms around one another, hands roaming. When they both came up for air Harry smiled at Hermione, an impish look in his eye.
"So how was it for you?" he asked.
"It was wonderful!" she sighed contentedly, beaming back at him.
"I thought so," said Harry, grinning. "You and Parvati looked like you were really enjoying it."
Hermione's cheeks turned the colour of an overripe strawberry.
"You... no..." she sputtered. "That's not what I meant!"
This time Harry did the pouncing, tickling Hermione's ribs. He soon had her on her back on the sofa, giggling hysterically, tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks.
"No...stop!" she gasped. "No more..."
Harry stopped tickling at once and grinned down at her. "Go on! Your turn to tell the truth!"
"Or I'll use these on you again until you do!" Harry wiggled his fingers.
"No! No! I can't take any more! ... I'll tell you! I'll tell you!"
"I'm listening."
Hermione's cheeks looked like they were on fire now.
"If...if you must know, I thought it was nice too," she admitted shyly. "Nicer than I thought it would be! I honestly never thought I'd like kissing a girl - but I kind of did. ... But it was all just for show! ... I promise!... I love kissing you more! Lots and lots more!"
"I know," said Harry as he looked into Hermione's pleading eyes; he kissed her again, softly, tenderly, until he felt her calming down.
Then his brow furrowed pensively.
"I am a metamorphmagus, you know! If you want... I could, er... just for you."
There was only a brief moment of hesitation, then Hermione shook her bushy head vigorously.
"No! Not for me! You're perfect too, Harry - just the way you are! I wouldn't have you any other way!"
They kissed again, and as it grew deeper and more impassioned, Harry couldn't help but think of the flicker of temptation in Hermione's eyes and filed that away for one day in the future, maybe after Hogwarts when they were married.
~o0o~
When she thought it would be safe, long after curfew, Hermione made her way back to Gryffindor Tower under Harry's Invisibility Cloak in a blissful daze, the unsettled feeling caused by Skeeter's article washed away completely. She felt ready to move things forward with Harry again, and was already planning their next rendezvous.
Thankfully, there was no-one left in the common room when Hermione entered through the porthole and she crept up to the stairs to the dormitory. Quietly she opened the door just in case anyone was asleep. Lavender looked like she had dozed off and the other girls had the curtains around their four-poster beds drawn.
Only Parvati was awake, sitting up in bed reading a book. They both blushed. Then they burst into giggles and both had to cover their mouths so that their giggles wouldn't wake anyone. Crookshanks flicked his tail lazily and purred when he spotted Hermione.
As Hermione crawled into bed and let out a contented sigh about Harry, she wondered when she had become more giggly. Was it because she and Harry had become girlfriend and boyfriend, or because she had become closer to Lavender and Parvati?
She was suddenly taken with a strange sense of deja-vu.
Her eyes closed, somehow recent events all swirled together with past events, and a vibrant memory popped into her head - a memory of Harry's second ever Quidditch match in first year - the one which Snape had been refereeing.
Hermione giggled when she remembered Ron and Neville's first ever fist-fight with Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle. They had been been brawling in the stands and it had all happened at once.
Hermione remembered screaming and leaping onto her seat to watch when Harry had gone into a terrifying dive and then shot past Snape to catch the snitch in a record time which was still unbroken.
The stands erupted into cheers. Hermione was shrieking gleefully, "Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" jumping up and down in her seat and surprising Parvati with a rib-cracking hug.
As the memory replayed over and over in her mind, she knew she finally had what she had wanted all along - Harry as her boyfriend and friends like Parvati and Lavender to share the ups and downs of it all with. It was okay to have close friends who were girly girls, and it was actually okay to cut loose and giggle a bit every once in a while...
~o0o~
Hermione made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast with Harry and Dora, after meeting them outside their respective quarters. Parvati and Lavender were already waiting and giggling with Ginny, Luna and Fleur.
Ron and Neville were chortling on the other side of the table with the Twins, who were both sniggering. Fred and George peered at the late arrivals with new respect as Harry and Hermione took their seats next to the rest of their "harem."
"We've all decided that we don't care what anyone thinks," said Luna with her usual dreamy smile. "Besides, it's more fun making everyone think it's true."
"I still can't believe you both snogged Parvati in front of the Slytherins," said Ginny, grinning her head off. "I wish I'd been there to see their faces."
"Well, Malfoy's looked something like this when he was arguing with Bulstrode..." Ron screwed his face up into a remarkably good impression of a bewildered, jealous, angry Malfoy that got everyone laughing again.
Harry glanced across the hall and grinned to see Malfoy with the exact same expression on his face as they caught each others' eye. And then the owls started arriving.
As the letters started piling up on the table in front of Harry and Hermione, Harry looked at them with suspicion, having a very good idea that they would be different than the usual odd bits of fan-mail he got every once in a while.
"Huh! I wonder what took them so long," he muttered.
"Well, Skeeter's article came out on Saturday, and most people probably didn't start sending their owls out till Sunday and..." Hermione began.
"...and it took them a couple of days for them to start arriving from all over Britain," Harry concluded as he tentatively reached for one of the envelopes.
All eyes were upon him as he opened the first envelope.
"Bloody hell!" he gasped.
Harry was stunned at what he saw and felt his face growing hot; he glanced at Hermione who had clapped a hand to her mouth and started giggling, looking just as shocked as Harry to see the photo of a nude young woman accompanied by a note offering to be part of the "harem."
"What's up?" asked Ron. "What is it?"
"Here!" Harry grinned and chucked the envelope across the table. "You'll probably appreciate this more than me. I've already got a girlfriend."
"Blimey!" Ron gasped.
Ron and Neville's eyes nearly fell out of their heads as they gawked at the photo. Harry and Hermione began opening the rest of the dozen or so envelopes and chucking one after the other across the table at Ron and Neville, who were both thrilled to see more pictures of young women in various states of undress.
All the girls were giggling again as they peered at the photos before they were tossed across the table, Dora and Fleur both looking very interested.
Harry came to the second to last envelope and opened it. He sighed to see that this letter was more like the ones he had been expecting to get. It was composed from pasted letters that looked like they had been cut out from newspapers and magazines.
"YoU aRe VeRY WickEd youNG Man! YOu arE Not HEro aNYmorE! wIZarD WorlD deSERve MuCH beTTer ThaN SEx-FieNd! Go bacK to MUGglE whEre yOU bElong DEgeneRAte PerVErt!"
"That's horrible!" said Hermione.
"Yeah!" Harry shrugged nonchalantly as he reached for the last one. "But to be honest, that's how I expected them all to be - OW!"
"What the hell?" he yelped as yellowy-green goo which smelled like petrol spilled over his fingers and boils began bubbling up.
"That smells like Bubotuber pus," said Neville. "You should go see Madam Pomfrey."
"We'll tell Professor Sprout where you've gone," said Ron.
Hermione stared at Harry's hands, appalled. "Tell Professor Sprout that I won't be there either. I'm going with Harry."
~o0o~
Kingsley Shacklebolt peered around the sparkling clean lobby of the office. It looked almost like any ordinary muggle office-lobby, right down to the ficus in the corner and the magazines on the little table next to the armchairs. The only difference was that the secretary behind the desk was a goblin.
"Bookmaker Gribble will see you now, sir," said the secretary, peering over the top of her reading glasses. "Down the hall, second door on the left."
"Thank you!" Shacklebolt gave the secretary a courteous nod and entered the gold and green carpeted hallway.
Chapter 24: Bandaged
Draco Malfoy seethed with rage! He was a Pureblood! A Noble! How come he didn't have a Harem? He couldn't even get a date to the Yule Ball! But Potter had girls hanging all over him! It wasn't fair!
"Bloody fuck!" he yelled at nothing, savagely kicking out at a tree stump near the boat-house.
"GAAAAAH! Aaaaargh!"
Draco hopped on one foot before plonking himself down on his backside amidst the long grasses and weeds. He tugged off the shoe from his other foot and began massaging his toes, wincing.
"I thought I heard screaming," a sly voice chuckled. Draco looked up, recognising the voice.
"Piss off, Zabini! ... I'm not in the bloody mood!" Draco snarled.
Zabini shook his head and chuckled some more. "I can see that! Need a hand with that foot?"
Draco rolled his eyes at Zabini's little joke.
"I'll be fine!" he snapped. "Anyway, what are you doing here? Why aren't you in class?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Zabini retorted. "But don't tell me the answer - let me guess. You're not in the mood?"
"Oh, ha, ha, ha! Really funny, Zabini!"
"Are you really that arsed by Potter's little harem then?" Zabini sighed and shook his head, looking almost (but not quite) sympathetic.
"So what if I am?" Draco whined. "I'm rich! I'm a Pureblood! Where's my bloody harem?"
Zabini snorted mirthfully. "I suppose you could always ask your father to hire you a harem."
"It's not the bloody same! Everyone wants to be in Potter's harem - even Pansy apparently!" Draco narrowed his eyes at Zabini. "And you'll want to keep an eye on Greengrass. She looked like she was enjoying the show yesterday too."
"I was there, remember? And yeah, she was." Zabini grinned. "She got so hot and bothered watching Patil and Granger snogging that we spent the rest of the afternoon shagging."
"NOT helping, Zabini!"
"Well, if it's any consolation, Draco, not everyone thinks it's as brilliant as you and loads of girls seem to. After you stormed out of breakfast, Potter had to go to the hospital wing with boils all over his hands. Someone sent him an envelope full of Bubotubor pus."
"Huh! That's something I suppose!" said Draco begrudgingly, scowling.
"Anyway - how's your foot doing? Need some help getting to the hospital wing?" Zabini almost looked like he was smirking.
"I can get there myself!" Draco grumbled.
"Suit yourself! ... See you round!" Zabini shrugged, then sauntered off.
Draco watched Zabini until he passed out of view beyond the rise, still feeling puzzled; Zabini never had mentioned why he was out of class. If Draco didn't know any better, it almost seemed like Zabini had just wanted to needle him and rub Potter's harem in his face.
Draco staggered to his feet with a groan, wincing.
"Gaah!" he grunted as he began to hobble back towards the castle.
~o0o~
Students were already gathering near the woods by Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures when Hermione arrived with a very grumpy looking Harry, whose hands were bandaged. Amusement softened Harry's irritable features when he spied Ron and Neville, and he couldn't help chuckling; the pair were still gawking at the photographs and showing them to Dean and Seamus while they were all waiting for Hagrid.
"Blimey!" Dean whistled as he took a good long look at one of the photos in particular. "She's a real looker, that one is!"
Ron and Neville, both with slightly vacant grins, nodded in unison.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but her little smirk suggested that she still found it all more amusing than anything. Seamus, who wasn't nearly as interested in the photos, having a personal stash of Naughty Witches magazines hidden under his mattress, nudged Dean when he spotted Hagrid approaching.
"Watch it, mate," muttered Seamus.
Dean quickly thrust the photo back at Ron ,who hurriedly but carefully returned the photo to its envelope and handed it to Neville, who hastily put it and the other envelopes in his book bag as Hagrid lumbered towards them.
"What yeh got there, lads?" asked Hagrid, looking very curious.
"Er..." said Ron, his ears turning pink.
"Nothing," Neville mumbled, his cheeks turning scarlet.
"It's just a few silly pictures which came in the post this morning," Hermione chimed in quickly to save Ron and Neville from trouble.
Hagrid nodded, quickly losing interest when he spied Harry's bandaged hands.
"Blimey, Harry! Wha' happened ter yeh, then?"
Harry opened his mouth to reply but again Hermione was first in, this time her nostrils flaring with emotion as she spoke.
"That was from a horrible letter that Harry got this morning after that stupid article Rita Skeeter wrote about our supposed 'harem' for Witch Weekly," she hissed angrily. "The envelope contained undiluted bubotubor pus and it got all over Harry's hands."
"Aaah! Righ'..." said Hagrid sympathetically, "got some of 'em letters meself after she wrote tha' one abou' me an' Lupin. Someone even sen' me a parcel full o' dragon dung - good fertiliser fer the pumpkins though. ... Load a ruddy nutters! Yeh oughter just chuck the lot in the fire, Harry..."
"Actually, me and Neville are checking all of Harry's mail first now," said Ron magnanimously.
"Er... we are?"
"Yeah - for Harry's safety." Ron raised his eyebrows at Neville.
"Oh - right! ... Harry's safety!" Neville quickly agreed.
Hermione snorted mirthfully, and Lavender and Parvati giggled. This time it was Harry who was rolling his eyes and smirking, but he reckoned if Ron and Neville were willing to risk bubotubor pus for a few pictures of naked girls that was up to them.
"Well, good on yeh, lads!" Hagrid beamed. "Lookin' out fer yer friend like tha' ... Yeh couldn' ask fer better, Harry!"
"Yeah, they're all right!" Harry laughed, all grumpiness gone completely now. "Thanks loads, guys," he added, shooting a grin and a wink at Ron and Neville.
"Anyway," said Hagrid, "bes' be gettin' class started. Huh... looks like there's less Slyth'rins today... less'n usual anyway now tha' Malfoy an' 'is pair o' knuckleheads is gone."
"Blaise wasn't feeling well," piped up Daphne Greengrass; for some reason Pansy was giggling.
""Righ' then," said Hagrid, nodding as he began the lesson. "These're Nifflers - clever little creatures and jolly useful little treasure detectors they are. Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. An' watch out for yer valuables - they like sparkly stuff."
Sure enough, Pansy gave a little shriek as one leapt and tried to gnaw her bracelet off her wrist. But she calmed down when she realised that it was more cuddly than dangerous. Ron's interest was piqued when Hagrid went on.
"Anyway, I've buried a load o' Leprechaun Gold," said Hagrid cheerily, "an' there's a prize for the one whose Niffler digs up the most coins. Don' bother keepin' the gold though, it'll disappear after a bit."
Ron ended up with an enormous bar of chocolate when his Niffler dug up the most gold coins. He was a bit disappointed that it was only Leprechaun Gold, but he was still feeling pretty chuffed about all of the photos that he and Neville were sharing between them and the prospect of more to follow.
~o0o~
The Goblin with a slender black moustache and crisply parted slick, black hair peered shrewdly over steepled, spindly fingers at the tall Auror sitting before his desk.
"I can assure you, Auror Shacklebolt, all of our operations at Gribble and Spugnut Betting Services are quite legal and aboveboard. All of our transactions are conducted through Account Manager Ragnok's office at Gringotts in accordance with both Ministry regulations and National statutes."
"Oh, of course, Mr. Gribble," said Shacklebolt politely. "My apologies if I wasn't clear. It was Account Manager Ragnok who informed me that your firm was the most recent to handle Ludo Bagman's legitimate affairs."
"Ah, Bagman!" Mr. Gribble scowled as he nudged a slightly askew ballpoint pen back into alignment with the others on his otherwise perfectly organised mahogany desk. "Yes! We last handled Bagman's bets during the Quidditch World Cup, and he ended up owing the firm a substantial amount of gold.
"He had been in arrears nearly four months before we finally received full payment, and at that point this firm severed ties with him."
"Did Bagman inform you how he had managed to scrape together the necessary funds for repayment."
"Alas, no! Indeed, that was one of the reasons we refused to conduct any more business with Bagman. We suspected that he may have also been financing side-bets through illegitimate bookmaking operators to cover bets beyond the limits of our financial terms with him."
"I see!" Shacklebolt nodded, frowning pensively. "So the bookmakers he was seen with in Hogsmeade in January..."
"Were not associated with Gribble and Spugnut in any way, and we do not believe they were associated with Kilgore and Sons, or Biljbreth Incorporated. ... It is possible I suppose, but highly unlikely that Bagman ran the bets which exceeded the amounts our firm was willing to cover through a smaller firm."
Mr. Gribble picked up the ballpoint pen which he had so carefully lined up with the others and scribbled a few names on a notepad; then he tore off the top slip of the pad and handed it to Shacklebolt.
"I suggest you try your luck in those establishments."
"Bullwhip and Cleaver, and Red-Handed-Fist...?" Shacklebolt tugged his lower lip between forefinger and thumb as he peered questioningly at the names.
"Goblin pubs which cater to more... unsavoury elements of the Goblin Nation," said Mr. Gribble. "And The Silver Sword is a more high-end nightclub catering to more distinguished Goblin clientele - but the National Inquiry Unit has for quite some time believed that The Silver Sword launders money for one of the larger Goblin criminal syndicates.
"They have yet to catch them at it." Mr. Gribble shrugged. "But a raid once uncovered a fencing and drugs operation conducting business in the establishment during open hours. Of course the owners of the nightclub claimed no knowledge of the criminal activities, and no connection could be proven..."
"...But one is very likely," said Shacklebolt, nodding again. He rose to his feet and shook the bookmaker's hand.
"Thank you, Mr. Gribble. You have been very helpful."
"It was my pleasure, Auror Shacklebolt. ... Your courtesy is greatly appreciated."
Shacklebolt smiled wryly. "Not all wizards are inclined to hold on to old enmities and prejudices, Mr. Gribble."
"Likewise," said the Goblin. "We wouldn't have as much business if we didn't."
~o0o~
Despite having done very well forgetting about Snape being a (most likely ex-) Death Eater since all that snogging with Hermione yesterday afternoon and evening, it began weighing heavily on Harry's mind again when he spotted Snape glowering at him from the staff-table at lunch.
He began wondering if he should ask Dumbledore, but wasn't sure how one went about something like that without sounding all accusatory. Harry felt like it would be a bit presumptuous to simply walk up to Dumbledore and say, "Excuse me professor, but did you know that you have a Death Eater on the staff?"
But the more he thought about it, the more Harry felt like he had to tell someone. What if Dumbledore was unaware? He would surely want to know. And if Snape really was an ex-Death Eater working for Dumbledore now, Harry really wanted to know the truth, rather than just guessing.
Between that and his bandaged hands, Harry was all worked up again by the end of classes, and Hermione wasn't the only one who could tell; Ron and Neville seemed to have noticed too.
"You okay, Harry?" asked Ron, his eyebrows scrunched with concern.
"Are your hands still hurting?" asked Neville.
Parvati, who was hanging out too as Lavender was off somewhere with Viktor, peered at Harry's bandages as if hoping to see through them with x-ray vision. Harry sighed, rubbing absentmindedly at his itching scar with the tips of his fingers.
"Nah," he said, glancing at Hermione, "It's something else..."
Ten minutes later, Harry was sitting by the edge of the lake with Hermione, Parvati, and Neville and Ron. The surface of the lake rippled in the bitter wind which was blowing away the grey skies of February as March approached (and with it, Ron's birthday, Harry reminded himself), and a few ducks waddled along the pebbly shore nearby.
Taking a deep breath, Harry began to tell them everything he had found out and had discussed with Hermione.
"...and that's what's annoying me right now," he concluded. "I'm not sure how to talk to Dumbledore about it."
Parvati and Neville were both shocked into silence.
"Snape's a Death Eater? ... He's really a Death Eater then?" Ron was still too stunned by the revelation to offer any meaningful advice.
"Yes!" said Hermione impatiently, rolling her eyes. "You're the lastperson I thought would be surprised by this, Ron."
"Well, yeah, I knew Snape was evil, but after it turned out to be Quirrell all along in first year I never reckoned Snape was that evil!" said Ron defensively.
"Well, what do you guys think?" asked Harry. "Should I just stroll up to Dumbledore and drop this on him or what?"
"I don't know about that," said Neville anxiously. "What if he gets angry with you for making accusations?"
"Yeah," Ron agreed, nodding, "I could see that going over like a lead balloon. If he does already know about Snape, Dumbledore probably won't like it that you're exposing a secret, or he might think that you're just trying to make trouble for Snape."
"Well, I think that Harry should say something," said Parvati firmly.
"I agree completely," said Hermione. "It's the only way to really settle things."
"Or I could run it by Moody, see what 'e knows about it." said another voice.
Everyone turned to see Dora peeking around the bush behind them. Harry kicked himself mentally. Dora - of course; he should have asked her what she thought about all of this.
"Sorry, Harry! I couldn't help overhearing - I always give you and Hermione a bit more space if it's just you two, but I figured I could stick a bit closer seein' as you're with everyone else."
"No - it's okay, really," said Harry, shaking his head. "I'm just feeling a stupid for not thinking of talking to you."
"Me too," Hermione admitted, flushing with embarrassment.
"No worries, you two." Dora grinned. "You've got enough on your plates dealin' with everything else. But this is more or less my job - looking out for any potential threats. And to be perfectly honest, I always thought Snape was mean enough t'be a Death Eater too. ... He wasn't any nicer to Hufflepuffs than 'e was to Gryffindors back when I had 'im for Potions."
~o0o~
Lucius Malfoy strode through the Atrium of the Ministry as if he owned the place, the crowds parting around him. He glared at several Ministry workers who attempted to enter the lift with him and they fell back, knowing better than to mess with the angry platinum haired Warlock. He scratched at his left forearm absentmindedly as the lift hurtled on its way.
Finally he reached the Administration level and stalked along the purple-carpeted corridor until he came to the Senior Undersecretary's office.
"Oh, Warlock Malfoy," said the secretary in the office lobby, looking up when the door opened, "The Senior Undersecretary is expecting..."
"Of course she is," snapped Malfoy, pushing open the door of the Senior Undersecretary's sanctum. The first thing to strike Malfoy's eye, as always, was the flowery pink wallpaper.
"Lucius, come in, come in," Umbridge beckoned, gesturing at the overstuffed hot-pink armchair. "Do take a seat."
Malfoy ignored the mewling kittens gamboling across the plates on the wall and his feet sank into pearl-pink shag carpet as he made his way to the armchair. He cut an odd-figure, dressed all in black seated in the garishly pink office, but he was used to it. Malfoy caught Umbridge glancing at his left forearm as she passed him a cup of tea.
"Any changes I should be aware of, Lucius?" she asked, her voice as sweetened as the tea he was sipping.
"Just some itching and reddening, which is highly suggestive, I admit," he responded. "If Crouch Junior's Veritaserum confession is indeed true, and not just the mad ravings of an escaped convict, all I can be certain of is that the Dark Lord has not reconstituted himself yet."
"And if he does...?"
"You will be the first to know, Dolores, I can assure you."
"Good, because indeed, Ludo's assessment of our problems were, if anything, an understatement, and we have enough on our plate as it is. ... Cornelius brought Dumbledore's 'concerns' regarding the Second Task to me personally yesterday, and judging by his demeanor I suspect that Amelia's investigation of Bagman's possible ties to illicit Goblin bookmakers' may not be the extent of it."
"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Lucius raised an eyebrow as he took another sip of tea and wondered if he needed a splash of brandy added.
"Yes," Dolores nodded. "We shall have to tread very carefully as we move forward. I had to reassure Cornelius that my office would recuse itself from any further involvement in the Triwizard Tournament, so..."
The Senior Undersecretary raised her own eyebrows, leaving the "so" unsaid.
"I see," Lucius drawled, eyeing the brandy bottle through the glass of the mahogany cabinet behind Umbridge. "Perhaps then, if things were to go... awry with the Third Task, Ludo and his, ah... friendsmight be the ones to bear the responsibility..."
"My thoughts precisely," Dolores beamed. "And if You-Know-Who should make his presence known to you before then..."
"Well," said Lucius slowly, still calculating his options, still not entirely certain as to what he would do if the Dark Lord called for him, "at the very least, no doubt the responsibility for any mishap which befalls... certain participants during the Third Task would fall upon the Dark Lord himself, if he were to be exposed publicly.
"Perhaps, if Rita Skeeter were to be the recipient of a Ministry leak regarding Crouch Junior, that would be enough to solve all of our little problems. ... If the Dark Lord has indeed returned, he will wish to keep his presence in Britain hidden from the public as long as possible until he has built up a large enough base of support to move openly. A Ministry leak would certainly dash those plans."
"Quite so," Dolores agreed. "Though a leak may not even be necessary. If the Ministry obtains enough evidence to confirm Crouch Junior's story, Cornelius plans to release the information to the public himself."
Lucius Malfoy's surly mood began to lift at that thought, and his features brightened considerably. If the Dark Lord was forced into open warfare too soon, he would be vulnerable, especially if Lucius were able to convince enough others not to rejoin the Dark Lord should he send out the call.
Things were coming along quite handsomely at the moment, despite the setback of Fudge moving back into Dumbledore's corner, and the last thing Lucius or Dolores wanted was a war to spoil it all.
Dolores gave him a canny look and smile. "Well, then, now that's settled, perhaps a brandy, Lucius? I must say you looked rather irritable when you arrived. Problems at home?"
"Nothing a 'harem' wouldn't solve," Lucius retorted dryly. "I received a Floo message from Draco last night."
~o0o~
Harry wasn't really sure he wanted to eat in the Great Hall that evening, and was considering asking Dobby to bring him and Hermione some dinner in his quarters. He had managed to get by at lunch by eating a few sandwiches, which didn't require the use of utensils.
Harry didn't doubt that while his hands were still bandaged some of the girls might be tempted to feed him. The others may be perfectly happy pretending to be his and Hermione's "harem," but the idea of being fed from their hands like some sort of Roman Emperor seemed more than a bit too over-the-top and embarrassing.
On the other hand, it would really annoy Draco Malfoy.
In the end, Hermione managed to convince Harry to eat with everyone else, and he was glad that she had when he saw Malfoy scowling and limping into the Hall with a bandaged foot.
"Blimey! What happened to him?"
"While you were hanging out with Neville and Ron, Pansy told me that Blaise had a little chat with Malfoy this morning," said Hermione, smirking. "Apparently Malfoy was taking out his frustrations on inanimate objects and ended up breaking a few toes."
Hermione sliced a little piece of the roast beef on Harry's plate and forked it for him.
"Aren't you happy now that I got you to come and eat with all of us?" she asked as the fork approached his mouth.
Harry flushed hotly as he pulled the piece of roast beef from the fork with his teeth, still not entirely certain. But as he was chewing, Parvati reached for a silver bowl sitting on the table and lifted out a bunch of purple grapes.
"Open up, Harry," she said, giggling.
Harry let Parvati pop a grape into his mouth and caught Malfoy's eye. He nearly spat out the grape in a snort of laughter; the look on Malfoy's face was priceless.
"Yeah," said Harry after swallowing the grape, grinning madly, "This is brilliant! It was almost worth getting bubotubored and bandaged just for this."