263Chapter 3: First Signs
Chapter 3
First Signs
When Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next day, Harry saw Malfoy entertaining the Slytherins with a story. Harry kept his head down as they passed, and went to sit at the Gryffindor Table next to George Weasley.
"New third-year course schedules," George said, passing them over. "What's up with you, Harry?"
"Malfoy," Ron said, sitting down on George's other side and glaring over the Slytherin table. George looked up to see Malfoy still talking.
"Don't worry about it Harry," George said. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember Fred? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been, he came back all weak and shaking. …They suck the happiness out of a place, dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there."
"Anyway, we'll see how happy Malfoy looks after our first Quidditch match," Fred said. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin, first game of the season, remember?"
Harry just nodded and helped himself to sausages and fried tomatoes. He did not know why he was letting Malfoy affect him so, he never paid this much attention to the Slytherin before.
Hermione was examining her new schedule. "Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today," she said happily.
"Hermione," Ron said, frowning as he looked over her shoulder, "they've messed up your schedule. Look—they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time!"
"I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall"
"But look," Ron said laughing, "see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggles Studies. And"—Ron leaned closer to the schedule, disbelieving—" look—underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"
"Don't be silly," Hermione said shortly. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once."
"Well, then—"
"Pass the marmalade, "Hermione said.
The owls started to arrive as Hermione and Ron bickered. Harry stopped paying attention and looked up to the soaring owls, searching for Hedwig. He found her and watched as she flew down to Harry, landing right in front of his plate, leg out. He untied his father's letter and placed it to the side. Harry picked up some bacon bits and fed Hedwig before she nuzzled his finger and flapped her wings, leaving the table.
Harry turned his attention to his dad's letter, opening it with a knife.
Harry,
I'm glad Hagrid got the job, he deserves it after taking care of the lot in the forest. Thanks for telling me that. But I am worried about what you have told me about this Professor Lupin-Black? Listen Harry, be careful around him. He and his husband … friend are not to be trusted. Trust me Harry, I've known them, both of them, and they have betrayed my trust worst than Pettigrew is. Nasty little creatures. Stay safe Harry, and please keep me updated about the dementor situation. Both Kingsley and I are livid.
Love,
Dad
Harry frowned. Professor Lupin-Black dangerous? How can he be dangerous when he saved him on the train? There was a large part of Harry that wanted to obey his father, and try to limit communications with Professor Lupin-Black. But there was an equal large part, a part that his father told him comes from his own stubbornness and mischief, that wanted to tell his father "sod off" and that he'll make his own opinion about the man. Harry nibbled on his lip as the two sides faced off inside him, each yelling their defense at him. Harry did not know which side to choose, on one hand he is his father and he seems to be just looking out for him, on the other his father ripped up his permission form and basically dictated his entire life. For once Harry wanted to live his life his own way, and looking down at the letter, staring at the crossed out "husband," he decided that if he was going to live his own life… the first step would be to ignore his father. He will talk with Professor Lupin-Black, and decide on his own if he is a man to avoid.
"Harry… we better go," Ron said. "Look, Divination's at the top of North Tower. It'll take us ten minutes to get there. …"
Harry snapped out of his thoughts and nodded, letting Ron lead as they left the Great Hall. The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long one. Two years at Hogwarts hadn't taught them everything about the castle, and they had never been inside North Tower before.
"There's—got—to—be—a—shortcut," Ron panted as they climbed their seventh long staircase, and emerged on an unfamiliar landing, where there was nothing but a large painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.
"I think it's this way," Hermione said, peering down the empty passage to the right. They had to ask a portrait of a stount knight for help. The knight was more than happy to lead them, going through the paintings on the walls as Harry, Ron, and Hermione chased after him. When they reached a spiral staircase, the knight yelled his "farewells" as the three began climbing the staircase. They climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class was already assembled. There were no doors off this landing, but Ron nudged Harry and pointed at the ceiling, where there was a circular trapdoor with a brass plaque on it.
"Sibyll Trelawney, Divination teacher," Harry read. "How're we supposed to get up there?"
As though in answer to his question, the trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Harry's feet. Everyone got quiet.
"After you," Ron said, grinning as Harry climbed the ladder, following him.
He emerged into the strangest-looking classroom he had ever seen. It was a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs.
Ron appeared at Harry's shoulder as the class assembled around them, all talking in whispers Harry distinctively felt Ron placing his hand on his shoulder as he said, "Where is she?"
A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice. "Welcome," it said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."
Harry's immediate impression was of a large, glittering insect. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.
She told them to sit down, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat themselves around the same table. Harry looked at Ron, and himself and noticed the small distance that was between them. Harry supposed that it would awkward to sit so close to Ron, but he did not want to move.
"Welcome, to Divination," Professor Trelawney said, as she seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."
Nobody said anything to the extraordinary pronouncement. She began talking again, but Harry's mind wandered. He looked around the room, and saw shelves that ran around the circular walls that were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups. His eyes then next noticed the people in the room. There were a mixture of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws with only two Hufflepuffs. Harry noted, with a small relief, that there were no Slytherins in this classroom. He did not want to imagine the torture Malfoy would give him in this class.
"You boy!" Professor Trelawney said suddenly pointing at Neville. She snapped Harry out of his thoughts, and almost cause Neville to fall out of his pouf. "Is your grandmother well?"
"I think so," Neville said tremulously. Harry couldn't help but noticed that Neville's face, while still round, started to develop an attractive quality about it. If he wanted to put a word to it, Harry would describe it as cute. The girls will go wild, Harry thought to himself.
"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," Professor Trelawney said, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings. Neville gulped. Professor Trelawney continued placidly. "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she shot suddenly at Parvati Patil, "beware a red-haired man."
Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her and edged her chair away from her. Harry looked at them confused, and somehow just started staring at Ron as Professor Trelawney continued. Harry was noticing and counting the freckles on Ron's cheeks, ignoring their teacher's speech again. This seemed more productive, and to Harry's luck, Ron seemingly did not notice his counting at all.
"—And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever," Professor Trelawney said. She seemed unaware of the tense silence as she turned to Lavender Brown, "I wonder, dear, if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"
Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.
"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading—it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."
Lavender trembled. Professor Trelawney told them to break off into pairs, collect a teacup, and come to her so she would fill it. "Drink until only the dregs remain," she instructed her students. "Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh and dear"—she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up—"after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink."
Harry moved his seat virtually next to Ron's, who didn't seem to mind as they went to collect their cups. True to her word, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups when there was a tinkle of breaking china. Professor Trelawney had him clean it up and get a blue cup. When Harry and Ron had had their teacups filled, they went back to their table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. It was too hot that Harry could barely taste it as the liquid invaded his throat. They swilled the dreg around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped over.
"Right," Ron said as they both opened their books at pages five and six. "What can you see in mine?"
"A load of soggy brown stuff," Harry said, smiling when Ron laughed.
"Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!" Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom. Harry tried to pull himself together and took a deep breath. A strange scent invaded his nose, and he breathed in again, looking for the source.
It was a nice, hot scent that was hard to describe. Harry closed his eyes and silently breathed it in and turned towards the scent, only to see it was Ron, who was busy looking at Harry's teacup. Grossed and confused, Harry turned to look at Ron's trying to forget that he was basically sniffing his best friend. Why would he even do such a thing! He wondered as he looked at the teacup.
"Right, you've got a crooked sort of cross …" he consulted his textbook. "That means you're going to have 'trials and suffering'—sorry Ron—but there's a thing that could be the sun… hang on… that means 'great happiness'… and there's a… head thing… and that means 'confusion' … so you're going to suffer but be very happy… and confused about something…?"
"You need your Inner Eye tested, if you ask me," Ron said, and they both had to stifle their laughs as Professor Trelawney gazed in their direction.
"My turn…" Ron said as he peered into Harry's teacup, his forehead wrinkled with effort. "I think I see the head you're talking about… so you're confused. There's a blob a bit like a bowler hat. Maybe you're going to work for the Ministry," he chuckled. He turned the teacup the other way up. "But this way it looks more like an acorn. …What's that?" He scanned his copy of Unfogging the Future. "'A windfall, unexpected gold.' Excellent, you can lend me some… and there's a thing here," he turned the cup again, "that looks like an animal… yeah, if that's was its head…looks like a hippo—no a sheep…"
Professor Trelawney whirled around as Harry let out a snort of laughter. She took the cup and stared into it. "The falcon… my dear, you have a deadly enemy."
Harry stared at her confused. "But everyone knows that," Hermione said in a loud whisper. Professor Trelawney stared at her. "They do, everyone knows about You-Know-Who and Harry."
Harry frowned at Hermione. He hadn't heard or thought about You-Know-Who for a long time. He was dead, why would Hermione have to remind him about a dead man?
"The club… an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup…"
"I thought that was a bowler hat," Ron said sheepishly.
"The head… yes, there will be confusion in your life my dear," Professor Trelawney said, nodding. "The skull… danger in your path, my dear…"
Everyone was staring, transfixed at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed. She sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed.
"My dear boy… my poor, dear boy…no…it's kinder not to say…no… don't ask me!"
"What is it Professor?" Dean Thomas asked at once. Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around Harry and Ron.
"My dear," Professor Trelawney's huge eyes opened dramatically, "you have the Grim."
"The what?"
"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" Professor Trelawney cried. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen—the worst omen—of death!"
Harry's stomach lurched. Death? Lavender Brown clapped her hands to her mouth too. Everyone was looking at Harry, everyone except Hermione, who had gotten up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney's chair.
"I don't think it looks like a Grim," she said flatly. "That is clearly just a small dog, which the book says stand for confusion in love."
Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermione with mounting dislike. "You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonance of the future."
Trelawney ended the class there, and they silently left and headed towards Transfiguration. The Gryffindors whispered among themselves, some looking at Harry as they walked. Harry chose a seat right at the back of the room, feeling as though he were sitting in a very bright spotlight; the rest of the class kept shooting furtive glances at him, as though he were about to drop dead at any moment. He hardly heard what Professor McGonagall was telling them about Animagi, and wasn't even watching when she transformed herself in front of their eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes.
"Really, what has got into you all today?" she said, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."
Everybody's heads turned to Harry again, but nobody spoke. Hermione rose her hand and said, "Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class—"
"Ah, of course," Professor McGonagall said, suddenly frowning. "There is no need to say any more. Tell me, which one of you will be dying this year?"
"I am… Professor," Harry said as everyone stared at her.
"Ah, Potter. Then you should know, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues—"
She broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the more imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Profesor Trelawney—"
She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."
Hermione laughed. Harry felt a bit better. It was harder to feel scared of a lump of tea leaves away from the dim red light and befuddling perfume of Professor Trelawney's classroom. Not everyone was convinced, however. Ron still looked worried as he glanced at his friend.
Harry spent their lunch break looking around the Gryffindor Table as Ron and Hermione bickered. He looked down and saw Fred and George Weasley talking with their friend Lee Jordan. Harry watched as Fred and Lee laughed and George blushed. He shook his head and looked towards the other tables. Harry tried to follow George's gaze but couldn't. So instead, he just watched George as he smiled at someone and offered a small wave. Harry watched as George's smile widened. It seemed to Harry that George and whoever he was talking to were having a private, silent conversation. Harry felt like he shouldn't watch, as if watching was intruding on George's privacy but for some reason he was transfixed on George, watching every small movement the Weasley makes. George smiled and winked at whoever he was talking too. He blushed and stuck his tongue out.
Fred noticed what his twin was doing and laughed, slapping George's back and getting his twin's attention again. George laughed with him and sent one last smile before turning his attention back on Fred and Lee. Harry continued to watch as he ate, and only snapped back to Ron and Hermione when Hermione snatched up her bag and stalked away. Ron frowned after her.
"What's she talking about?" he said to Harry. "She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet."
Harry looked at Ron confused by didn't ask. He was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.
Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other. Harry walked beside them in silence as they went down to Hagrid's hut. It was only when he spotted three only-too familiar backs ahead of them that he realized they must be having these lessons with the Slytherins. Malfoy was talking animatedly to Crabbe and Goyle, who were chortling. Harry was quite sure he knew what they were talking about. A ways from them stood another Slytherin that Harry barely ever noticed. He was tall with chocolate skin and hazel eyes. If Harry wanted to guess the Slytherin had an Italian air around him as he leaned against the fencepost to Hagrid's garden. When he noticed that Harry was staring at him, he just smirked, causing Harry to look away quickly.
Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. "C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"
For one nasty moment, Harry thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the forest; Harry had never been in the Forbidden Forest, but heard of the dangerous creatures that are said to be living in it. However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of padlock. There was nothing there.
"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it—make sure yeh can see—now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books—"
"How?" Malfoy said in a drawling voice.
"Eh?"
"How do we open the books?" Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope.
"Just got ter stroke the spine," Hagrid said. The Slytherin Harry was staring at smirked and looked up at Harry, as if trying to share a joke he did not get. Hagrid took Hermione's copy and ripped the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.
"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said quietly. Hagrid looked downcast and Harry wanted Hagrid's first lesson to be a success. Harry watched as the Slytherin who was staring at him walked up to Malfoy and whispered something in his ear. Harry paid it no mind as he stroke his book, feeling suddenly conscience of the people around him.
"Righ' then," Hagrid said, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so—so yeh've got yer books an'—an' now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on…"
He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight. The Slytherin kept Malfoy busy as the two talked, the Slytherin having a smirk as Malfoy just rolled his eyes.
Lavander Brown made a noise and everyone looked around to see Hagrid coming back with three creatures that looked a mixture of an eagles and horse. "Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful aren' they?"
Harry could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feathers to hair.
"So," Hagrid said, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer—"
No one seemed to want to. Ron, Hermione, and Harry, however, approached the fence cautiously.
"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," Hagrid said. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle weren't listening; they were talking in an undertone and Harry had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson. The Slytherin who was talking to Malfoy just shook his head but did not stop them.
Hagrid continued to tell the class about the hippogriffs, instructing and showing how to bow to one before approaching. Afterwards, Hagrid volunteered Harry to go first and approach a hippogriff. "Right then—let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."
Hagrid pulled the grey hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Malfoy's eyes were narrowed.
"Easy now, Harry," Hagrid said quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink. …Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much."
Harry's eyes immediately began to water, but he didn't shut them. He wanted to glance at the class, at the curious Slytherin, but didn't. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye.
"That's it," Hagrid said. "That's it Harry… now bow…"
Harry didn't feel much like exposing the back of his neck to Buckbeak, but he did as he was told. He have a short bow and then looked up. The hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.
"Ah," Hagrid said, sounding worried. "Right—back away, now, Harry, easy does it—"
But then, to Harry's enormous surprise, the hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.
"Well done, Harry!" Hagrid said ecstatic. "Right—yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"
Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly toward the hippogriff and reached out toward it. He patted the beak several times and the hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.
The class broke into applause, all except for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed. The strange Slytherin just spared them a glance before returning to his applause. Hagrid clapped loudly and awarded Harry ten points. He then reckoned that Buckbeak would let Harry ride him. This was more than Harry bargained for as Hagrid helped him up. Buckbeak stood up and started to gallop, its wings expanding as it pushed off of the ground. Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground. Harry felt adrenaline rush through him as he barely was able to get off of the hippogriff, thankful he was on solid ground again. He would have rather play three games of Quidditch back to back then ride Buckbeak again.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak as Harry walked back with Hagrid. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful."This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Harry to hear him. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it. …I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"
It happened in a flash of steely talons; Malfoy let out a high-pitched scream and the next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.
"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"
"Yer not dyin'! Hagrid said, who had gone very white. "Someone help me—gotta get him outta here—"
Hermione ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily. As they passed, Harry saw that there was a long, deep gash on Malfoy's arm; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope toward the castle. Harry felt an intense feeling of guilt. He wanted to check on Malfoy, make sure that he was alright.
Very shaken, the class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.
"They should fire him straight away!" Pansy Parkinson said, who was in tears.
"It was Malfoy's fault!" Dean Thomas snapped. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.
They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall. "I'm going to see if he's okay!" Pansy said, and they all watched her run up the marble staircase. Harry stayed back as the rest of the class returned to their common rooms. Then, alone, Harry started to follow Parkinson. He quickly made it to the hospital wing and slowed down as he heard Parkinson's crying voice, "That damn oaf! They should fire him! No—send him to Azkaban! All for hurting my poor Draco!"
"Stop that Parkinson, I am not your Draco," Malfoy's irritated voice said. "And go away! I don't want your stupid tears ruining my robes."
"Draco," Pansy said, shocked.
"Go away Parkinson," Malfoy ordered. Harry heard Parkinson's loud cries as she walked away from Malfoy's bed. Harry hid in the shadows as he watched Parkinson leave the hospital wing, crying. For some weird reason, Harry did not feel any sorry for her. When he was sure she was gone, he stepped out of the shadows and steeled himself as he walked into the hospital wing.
Malfoy was laying down in a bed closest to an open window. He was propped up and glared at Harry when he saw him. "What do you want Potter? Came to gloat at me?" he spat.
Harry frowned, his eyes staring at his newly bandaged arm. It was held by a sling that went around his elbow, and Harry could see blood staining it. "No…" he said softly as he took a step towards Malfoy, his eyes never leaving the bandaged arm.
"Then what? Don't tell me you feel sorry for me Potter?" Malfoy spat.
"I… I… I don't know," Harry said.
"I don't want your pity Potter," Malfoy said. "So if that is why you are here, sod off."
Harry frowned and shook his head. He continued walking to Malfoy's bed until he reached the chair beside it. Malfoy glared at him the entire way. Harry hesitated as he started to reach for the bandaged arm. Malfoy turned his glare to Harry's hand as he gently and slowly placed it on the bandage, feeling the heat coming from the arm. "You're bleeding…" he said more to himself.
"Really? I haven't noticed!" Malfoy drawled sarcastically. "What are you doing Potter!" Malfoy said as Harry reached for the sling.
"I… I was going to clean it…" Harry said. "One time when I was six, my dad got a cut on his leg. A wizard he was chasing transfigured a candle to a knife and it flew at him. Dad did not want to go to St. Mungo's so he just came home when he caught the outlaw. When I saw him, I was petrified. I never saw my dad look so hurt before. I've never saw my dad hurt, period. He tried to calm me down, and taught me how to dress his wound. I did, and afterwards I noticed that I stopped crying. Dad congratulated me and told me to remember how to dress a wound. After that, whenever Dad got hurt on the job, he just came home and helped me as I dressed his wounds. He did the spells of course, but I did the muggle work. He called me his personal Healer, and after we finished he always rewarded me by going to his muggle ice cream shop I loved."
Harry did not know why he told Malfoy this. Malfoy just stared at him as Harry reached again for the bandages. Malfoy glared at him as Harry removed the sling and looked at the bandage. It was holding, though Harry thought it could use a second layer. He grabbed a roll of bandages off of the table near Malfoy's bed and went to work. Both boys were silent as Harry worked, Malfoy glaring at Harry, and Harry remembering all the times he did this for his dad. He missed those times.
When he was done, Malfoy just looked at Potter. "Well, are you going to leave or what?"
"Oh, err…" Harry said, surprised by his reaction. He thought Malfoy could be at least a little thankful. "Well… alright," he said standing up. "See ya… Malfoy."
Malfoy remained silent as Harry turned to leave. Harry did not know why, but he felt a great air of disappointment as he walked away from Malfoy, as if he was expecting something different from the prat.
"That was a nice story, you know," a voice said. Harry turned around and saw the same Slytherin who was smirking at him at Care for Magical Creatures. "Of course a prat like Draco didn't get it," he chuckled.
"W-Who are you?" Harry demanded.
"You forgot my name? Harry, I'm disappointed," the Slytherin said. "I was the last one to be sorted in our year, I thought that would make me somewhat memorable." Harry just stared at the Slytherin. He sighed and presented his hand. "Zabini. Blaise Zabini," he said.
"What do you want Zabini?" Harry asked, giving the Slytherin a sharp look as he edged away from him.
Zabini chuckled and said, "First, I just wanted to remark on how cute you look. Not bad, for a Gryffindor," he chuckled. Harry's cheeks reddened as he glared angrily at the Slytherin. Why is he calling him cute!? He isn't cute! "Second, I would like to apologize for Draco's behavior. You see, Draco is a lot like me, and you of course, but unfortunately he can be a bit of a prat at times."
"What do you mean by 'like you and me?'" Harry asked, watching the Slytherin suspiciously.
Zabini smiled and said, "Well Harry, I'm sure that if for you to figure out by yourself. However… can you tell me one thing?"
"What?"
"Do you hate Slytherins?"
"What?" Harry said, confused. "Well… no I guess. You're all prats but why do you care?"
Zabini just shrugged, "No reason, it's just that you are cute, and I like cute things." Harry glared at him, so he added, "I just want to see if we can be friends. No suspicious acts or other motives."
Harry just stared at him. He did not know what the Slytherin was talking about. Slytherins were all evil right? That is what his father had told him… thinking of his father reminded Harry of the letter this morning, and his mission to rebel from his father and make his own opinion about Professor Lupin-Black. Could befriending Zabini cause the same, or would it be too much? Confused, Harry just looked at Zabini and said, "I'll think about it."
"Alright Harry," Zabini said. He stood a step closer and shook Harry's hand. "It was nice seeing you up close Harry, you are much more cuter this way."
Zabini chuckled as he walked into the hospital wing, leaving Harry to his confusion. Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room and tried to work on Professor McGonagall's homework, but he and everyone else were worried about Hagrid. During dinner, Harry kept glancing at the Slytherin Table in the Great Hall. A large group including Crabbe and Goyle was huddled together, deep in conversation. Marry was sure they were cooking up their own version of how Malfoy had been injured. He also noticed, to his surprise, that Zabini was not part of the group, instead busying himself with his food.
"The cut was deep but he'll be alright, it won't scar or anything," Harry said frowning.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Malfoy's wounds. I saw them in the hospital wing. They're not that bad… I mean, I'm sure they hurt a lot but dad got worst during his job," Harry said.
"What were you doing visiting Malfoy?" Ron asked, shocked that Harry would think to do such a thing.
"I wanted to see if he was alright," Harry said. "It was his fault for not listening but still… I help somewhat guilty."
"But… it's Malfoy! The git deserves to be slashed at like that," Ron argued. "Anyway, you gonna tell your dad?"
"Tell him what? About the incident? He'll probably be happy that Mr. Malfoy's son got hurt, then both scold me for fixing him up, and congratulate me for doing such a good job," Harry shrugged.
"Where did you learn to do that anyway?" Hermione asked.
"Dad," Harry said. "Though I don't know any spells, just muggle stuff."
"Malfoy's probably faking it," Ron said at once. "Madam Pomfrey can fix anything. Remember when you got hit by that bludger last year? And Lockhart tried to fix it, but instead he removed your bones?" Ron laughed.
"Don't remind me that was the most painful night I had!" Harry said, remembering the incident. Somehow last year, a bludger hit Harry just as he caught the Golden Snitch. It broke his arm, and Lockhart tried to fix it. Madam Pomfrey had him drink this vile liquid and he could barely sleep as his bones painfully regrew.
"Well, trust me, Malfoy's trying to milk it for all it's worth. You probably got him before Madam Pomfrey could fix him up," Ron said.
Harry nodded and looked at the Slytherin Table again. The large crowd has disperse and returned to eating their dinner. Harry's eyes fell onto Zabini, who was talking to Parkinson, though it looked more like the two were arguing, as the Slytherin turned and noticed Harry's stare. He smiled and winked at Harry before returning to Parkinson. Harry bit his lip and continued to stare at the table. He couldn't wrap his mind around what Zabini said. That he and Harry were the same… and so were he and Malfoy? As if! Harry did not want to be the same as Malfoy. Sure, he wanted a chance to know Malfoy more, but that chance seemed to have left. Once a git always a git. But yet… Harry could not knock those words out of his mind. He wanted to know more, he wanted to know why Zabini believed that the three of them were the same. On the same line of thinking, he wanted to know more about Zabini, what he is playing at. He also wanted to know why his father had warned him to stay away from Professor Lupin-Black. He seemed to be a nice man, and a knowledgeable wizard, knowing how to deal with dementors. All this and more swam through Harry's head as he wordlessly went through dinner. There was so many things he wanted to know, and only time can tell if he can learn them.
A/N: We are getting to some interesting things here. What is the reason James hate Professor Lupin-Black? What does Zabini want? What does the future call for Harry? Will I EVER have a Title that doesn't begin with the letter F?
MineervaMcGee: Don't think he tried to eat Scabbers yet? Huh… maybe I should fix that.
Zatsune D. Drarryfan: This was even faster lol. Again, James just want the best for his only child! If only he knew Harry is starting to realize he is gay!
Jokul Frosti: Ohhh. Well, please don't mention Chicken Little, I am in constant denial that does not exist. And the only Disney thing is a small quote from the best Disney villain. And James flipping… we have not even begun!
MiniMarauder5: Close. I am a shipper of Remus and Sirius. I have no idea what name that is, but I'm glad you're loving this!
Ern: Here you go!