Ed then turned to face them, hardly winded at all from what Harry thought should be a very difficult thing to do.
Harry noticed that Hermione blushed and looked down suddenly.
'Another crush..? Already?' He thought. Remembering well the Ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lockhart, that Hermione practically worshipped.
Harry looked to Ron, and noted that his friend scowled slightly at Ed.
'Looks like he noticed it too. This could be fun.' Harry thought evilly. 'I could get her and Ron back for not writing me all summer.'
"Is tere someplace I can get sleep?" Ed asked, rubbing where his flesh met his metal shoulder with his left hand.
"oh! But dinner's..." Hermione said brightly, her hands entwined together at her chin. Harry rolled his eyes.
Ed grimmaced, and closed his eyes a moment.
"Not for me." Ed said, and wrapped his left flesh arm around his stomach. "Not now, anyvay. Maybe morning better."
Hermione thought a moment, then looked around. She even smacked the scowling Ron on the chest with the back of her hand, and gave him a pointed look. A look full of meaning that was certainly lost on both himself and Ron until she said.
"We'll need to ask Mrs. Weasley."
At which point, both Harry and Ed jumped, for the twins behind him disapportated with a loud:
POP!
Ed barely caught his head before it hit the table for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes.
Before him was a bowl that represented a compromise he had reached with the Weasley woman: A simple broth. He knew it was a sign of how tired he really was. He wrinkled his nose at it, though he was more disgusted at himself than at its presence. Simply because he gave in to the woman's arguments.
The broth was untouched as his still quesy stomach was assaulted by the smell of the feast the others were to be dining on. He managed to beat back the bile so far, but the drowsiness kept hitting him in waves. His head was pounding and it was getting increasingly harder for him to remain awake.
Why had the Weasley woman insisted he simply couldn't go to sleep without at least attempting to get something down to his gut? Why hadn't he left out the front door like he had intended when she redirected him downstairs..?
He heard it. Again. Soft snickering. Even muffled chuckles. He forced his eyelids open to track the sound. But it stopped before he could find out where it came from for certain. It was definitely one of the redheads. Not that it mattered. It seemed the entire table was filled with them.
He leaned his chin into the palm of his right hand. The coolness of the metal hand against his skin forcing the drowiness away once again. He was wearing borrowed clothes. A loud, long sleeved sweater, and equally loud long pants. He'd have changed them to his usual dark colors, if he thought he was up to it, without any regrets whatsoever. As it was, they made him look like a relative of the Weasleys, albeit a blond, as they all wore something similar. It looked to him as though they'd never seen a color they didn't like, and all colors they liked, quite natually, just went together the best.
Harry sat across from him, next to the man called "Black" and a pile of rags, under which was apparently something human called "Mundungus". Mundugus apologised to both he and Harry. Ed was very unclear why. What did the man actually expect to be able to do? Attacks happened. Life wasn't fair. What of it?
He wrinkled his nose again, this time at the smell of the smoke from the human rag pile.
Again came the snickers.
He felt the soft impact against his right metal forearm pressure sensor. He opened his golden eyes and saw what caused it. A ginger cat with a smooshed face coolly regarded him with its own slitted eyes. He blinked.
"Of all things... A cat." He breathed to his hand in Amestrian.
"Crookshanks!" Hermione called, as if scandalized.
"I-it's alright." Ed said in English, and reached out with his left living hand, carefully scratching behind the creature's ears. It purred out loud and leaned into his touch. It's whole body vibrating with it's pleasure. He smiled in response...somewhere between a smirk and a frown, and took the cat into his arms, careful to only use his right as a platform for the cat to stand on, and sat back enough not to have the cat touch the table.
"How was your summer Harry?"
"Awful."
Ed listened as they compared notes on "awfulness". He nearly snorted in derision but stopped himself, concentrating solely on petting the cat on his arm. Enjoying the soothing purrs. They almost soothed away the pounding in his head.
He heard "Order of the Phoenix", "Dumbledore", and "Voldemort". The last word made some of the people at the table shudder. He learned that this house he was stuck in belonged to the man called Black. Last of his family. Nobility. Politics. Blah blah blah. Ed glanced up to the man. He seemed engrossed in his conversation with Harry.
'Why am I included here?' He wondered to himself.
"Do that one like a pig's snout, Tonks.." Ed heard Ginny say, and he glanced over. Tonks obliged her request, dully changing her own nose into the requested shape, but he couldn't help but freeze his moments at the sight. Crookshanks mewed in protest of the inattention. Hermione, Tonks, and Ginny looked over at him.
"You ok, Ed?"
The pig's snout changed back to Tonk's normal nose before him. He met her eyes. Visions of a green haired psychopath entered his mind. Ed blinked, and forced himself to look away.
"Ed?" Harry this time.
"I'm..fine..." Ed smiled widely to him. And continued to pet Crookshanks with his left hand.
:::
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