After attempting, fruitlessly, to clean the rug in Professor Burbage's office, you had resolved to take the entire thing and hope she didn't notice it was missing until you could get it professionally cleaned.
…You'd have to figure out if there were even people who did that sort of thing, in the wizarding world.
They tended to have jobs for the oddest things, and lack them for things that seemed basic to you.
As you carried it into the common room, you immediately drew eyes. While some lingered, and some girls gave you looks as you walked by, eyes lidded and backs arched in such a way to make their chests more pronounced, others turned away rather quickly.
No one accosted you, though, and you made your way to where Harry and Luna were sitting at the other end of the Common Room.
You weren't exactly thrilled at the idea of interacting with the Blonde girl again. There was always some sort of shenanigan involved when you did; she was sitting next to Harry, so you approached anyway.
As you did, the two girls stopped whatever conversation they were having; they turned towards you, Harry, with some surprise, and Luna, in the same way she always did. With that same, familiar, expectant smile. Like something pleasant happened that she'd already seen coming.
"Evening." You grunted, laying the carpet, still smelling heavily of sex, down on the ground, before collapsing into a chair. "How were the classes?" You asked.
There was a moment of silence, and you looked up to see what was taking either girl so long. You were met by a smug smile on Luna's face, and a blush on Harry's. You cleared your throat, and Harry jumped, blushing further. Still, it provoked an answer.
"G-Good!" She squeaked, fiddling with the shimmery black blanket in her lap. "Good! Thank you."
You turned to Luna, who for once nodded, and gave a straight answer.
"Good. Who'd you do today, Herman?"
Harry swallowed hard, eyes wide, back straight, and thighs pressed together, squirming. She seemed uncomfortable with something.
"Don't you mean 'what,' Luna?" She offered, almost desperately.
Luna just smiled and shook her head.
"I know what I said, Harry."
Harry didn't have a response, and Luna turned back to you, waiting for your answer.
You tried to figure out how to put this without being crude.
"Well…" Your memory flashed back to Flitwick in Redrum. "I had a rather spirited conversation with Flitwick and one of her colleagues, and we… discussed mind magics, among other things."
Harry's face reddened further, and she looked away, refusing to meet your eyes.
Luna, meanwhile, seemed happy as a clam.
"That's good. I can't wait to finally meet Redrum."
You didn't say their name. Dismissing it as a quirk of Luna, you continued.
"And then, I had class with you." You looked towards Harry. "Professor Burbage was out, and instead we had-"
"Isolde Flamel." She said quickly, before realizing she'd interrupted you. "S-sorry." Harry squeaked.
You nodded.
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
She shrugged, looking away.
"L-lucky guess, I guess." She lied unconvincingly.
You narrowed your eyes at your crossdressing friend.
Before you could question her further, Luna interrupted.
"And you got in a bit of trouble with her. What did she want to talk to you about?" From the way Luna was smiling, you got the sense the other girl already knew something.
"Just some common sense manners and customs in the wizarding world."
Harry stared at you, face entirely red, but Luna plowed on.
"And what else happened?"
You shrugged.
"Nothing." You lied.
Neither girl had a look as if they fully believed you, and it had you shifting nervously.
They couldn't actually know, could they?
"And that was my day. Nothing too crazy." You finished.
"I wouldn't call four new lights nothing."
"What?" You tilted your head at Luna.
"Nothing." She looked away, towards Harry. "What did you do today, Harry? I heard you skipped class?"
Harry immediately began stuttering, looking panicked, and you were left to listen to your friend desperately try to make excuses while you tried to unpack what Luna meant.
It was almost like she knew something you didn't…
You'd look into it.
-x-X-x- (Nora) >>
As time ticked by, you checked your watch.
…And there we go.
Hopping out of bed and heading over to your dresser, you pulled out a fresh robe and got dressed.
Harry, who was in her own bed and already half asleep, rolled over, glaring blearily over her blanket, as she sleepily processed your movements.
"Eh. What are you doing, Herman?" She asked.
Already fully dressed and walking towards the door, you sent a single wave.
"Going on my date, have a nice night, Harry."
"Oh. Ok. Night." She said before lying down.
Down the stairs and near the door of the common room, you heard a crash, and Harry's voice ring out.
"WHAT!?"
The door shut behind you, cutting off anything else she was going to say.
Pausing, you wondered briefly if you should maybe go see if she was alright.
…
Eh, she'd be fine.
Shrugging your shoulders, you turned and headed towards the moving staircases, not passing by a soul as you did.
It was technically past curfew, but that didn't seem like such a huge deal yet; most students at this point in time were already in bed.
Most professors as well.
That was fine though. You were confident you could be stealthy enough to avoid notice.
And even if you did get spotted…
You knew that Snape was on duty today, and you were confident you could convince her to let you off.
…
…
Oh god, you were becoming a delinquent.
Shoving the thought into the back of your mind, you decided to perhaps deal with the realization later.
After all, you had a date to get to, now.
Another few turns, and you began approaching the greenhouses. From the large windows on your left, you could hear the sound of crickets chirping, and turning the final corner, towards the door leading out to the courtyard, you took a moment to study yourself in the reflection.
It was a date, after all. It was important to look your best.
Or at least you thought so; you hadn't actually been on too many of these.
Hair looked good, clothing was clean…
Reaching up, you rubbed a bit at your cheek before smiling and shooting the reflection a pair of finger guns.
Looking good.
Heading out, the crisp night air cut through the fabric of your button-up easily, and you shivered once, before casting a silent warming charm.
The night was dark, but the lanterns that were ever present around the school provided plenty of light to see, and you used them to make your way towards the greenhouses.
Turning the corner, around Nora's personal garden, you spotted the door of Greenhouse 3.
It was open, and there was a light shining inside.
Deciding not to waste time, you ducked inside, closing the door behind you.
The greenhouse, which was normally lit by powerful overhead lighting spells enchanted to provide each plant with the optimal amount of light, was dimmed, and instead, floating around the floral space were balls of light.
You recognized them as the Will-O-Wisp spell. The spheres floated away gently as you walked past them, avoiding your form with fluid movements before returning to their original position. They filled the long room and provided a soft, intimate lighting.
Waiting near the center was Nora.
.
--------->
.
She seemed quite nervous, and jumped as she turned, her long dress swishing along the ground as she did.
"Herman!" She squeaked, rushing over, lifting the edges of her dress so as not to trip. When she reached you, she threw her hands out and around your neck, squeezing tight.
"I was afraid you weren't going to come." She whispered.
"Wow." You said, simply, wide-eyed. She looked… amazing. Incredible, really.
The dress accentuated her body perfectly and showed off her curves well.
Specifically, it showed that what she may slightly lack in the chest, the girl made up for in the ass.
Longbottom indeed…
Nora blushed, turning away with a frown.
"I knew I should have chosen something else…"
Wait-
…
Plan B then.
Reaching forward, you gently put your hands on either cheek, turning her face toward you. She instantly flushed from the contact.
"What-"
And then, you leaned in, delivering a single light, chaste kiss to her lips.
"E-eh?"
When you pulled away, she seemed a bit dazed, and she leaned in, as if trying to continue the kiss longer.
It took a moment for the Longbottom Witch to find her words again.
"W-what was that for?"
Smiling, you leaned in again wordlessly, and this time she met you halfway.
This kiss lasted only slightly longer this time, just enough for your tongue to graze her lips, before you pulled away.
This time, she pouted.
"W-why are you pulling away so fast?" She said, doing her best to look grumpy, flushed, and disheveled. "If y-you really like my outfit then-" She paused, getting even more red as she tried to get the words out, "-then k-kiss me like you mean it."
The words seemed to cause embarrassment instantly, and she looked away.
"I mean, i-if you want to."
"Nora…"
She turned instinctively at her name, and you took the opportunity to lean in again, catching her unawares as you pushed your lips together.
She squeaked, but this time, you didn't give her any room to breathe, diving in deep as you snaked your arms around her back, hands coming down to grab at her fat ass, using the massive handholds to pull her against your body.
Your tongue shot out to press against her lips, and Nora moaned, mouth opening to allow you access. Pressing inside, you immediately began exploring her mouth, your tongue dueling against her own for dominance. At the same time, the short girl began grinding herself against your front, her hips pressing against your own as she sought as much contact as possible.
It was only when you felt her body begin to slump, strength leaving her alongside her breath as the kiss persisted. Only then did you pull away, the girl stubbornly following your movement to attempt to prolong it more.
Your lips pulled apart, as her tongue lolled out of her mouth, and a line of saliva connected the two of you. She looked flushed, hair mussed and face red. It was a good look for her, you found.
.
--------->
.
"Does that answer your question?" You asked with a smile. It seemed to bring her back to the present, and she looked away, although a small smile was on her lips now.
"Y-yeah, Herman. Y-you look good too." She answered quietly, still holding onto you, your own hands still grabbing handfuls of her fat ass.
Still, all good things had to end, so you pulled away only slightly to allow the two of you to talk.
"So…" You said. "Where to first?"
Nora hummed, poking her fingers together.
"W-well, I was thinking that we could, maybe…" She seemed nervous, but after a deep breath, steeled her nerves. "I was thinking we could maybe go for a walk along the lake, if that's alright?" She went to say more, but evidently thought better of it, choosing instead to just stare into your eyes.
Could Nora possibly have something else planned?
You smiled.
"Sounds like a plan to me."
You looked forward to it.
-x-X-x-
The two of you headed out of the greenhouse and through the dark. The night was cool, but a combination of your clothing, warming charms, and the flush that ran through both of you kept you plenty warm.
Floating lanterns lit the way. As far as you knew, Hogwarts had them on a timer, and they ran through the night until early morning, in case students or staff needed to get about the grounds. The stone path we walked down headed past the Quidditch field, and around the side of the castle, towards the lake.
It was most commonly used by students on their way to Care of Magical Creatures, who were coming from either Potions (which had an exit that let out nearby, through a bulkhead door) or Herbology.
Normally, it was quite packed, and the benches along the side of it, every couple dozen steps, were filled with students either reading, studying, talking, or simply resting. They were a favored spot during the day.
Now, though, there was no one, and the only company you and Nora had was the sound of wind through leaves as you walked.
She cuddled closer to you, in a particularly cold breeze.
"Are you alright?" you asked, an arm around her shoulder to attempt to better block the wind.
She nodded once.
"I'm fine; the warming charms work just f-fine. The shoes are just-" She looked down, and the shoes she chose, slight heels, didn't seem to be holding up well against the cobblestone of the path.
I grimaced.
"Would you like to turn back?" I wouldn't blame her for walking in those.
"No, I just need to-" I assisted her over to a bench, brushing it off before she sat down. Nora hiked her dress up, just a bit, and grabbed her wand from what seemed to be a frankly scandalous thigh holster. She waved it once, and then twice at her feet, muttering a spell you couldn't quite make out.
Her heels flickered, and a second later, they were replaced with a pair of knee-high boots, made of a durable brown leather. They were slightly scuffed.
They didn't look like any sort of fashion statement, but rather, from the dirt I could see caked around the sides, and the wear on them, I could tell they were genuine work boots. Used and cared for.
"There!" Nora smiled, and I resisted the urge to peck her on the lips again from how cute it looked.
…Wait, why was I resisting?
Leaning forward, I stole another kiss, and her face flushed again as she wiggled a bit in surprise.
"Herman!" She scolded.
"Did you not like it?"
She blushed.
"No, but—you can't do that when I'm not ready." Nora looked away. "I forgot what I was going to say."
You laughed, pulling her up. Her gait was much more solid this time.
"I think you'll survive."
She grumped, but couldn't stop the smile from climbing onto her face.
The two of you finished the last of the walk to the lake's edge, giggling and smiling the entire way. It turned into a game of you trying to steal a kiss and her trying, poorly, to dodge it.
Soon enough, the cobblestone path beneath your feet turned to gravel, and a suddenly cooler breeze blew through. It smelled different, and you turned to your right, admiring the moon reflecting off the water.
Nora stepped up beside you.
"What a sight." She sighed.
You stared at her face—the way the light glinted off her hair, the curve of her lips, her pink eyes.
"Yeah," you agreed.
She looked toward you, and her face flushed when she realized you were staring at her. She shoved you lightly.
"Stop it. You're making me blush," she squeaked.
You ignored her, wrapping your arms around her back.
"Stop what, telling the truth?" You bumped your forehead against hers, and that seemed to overwhelm her. She squeaked, hiding her face in your chest.
-x-X-x-
"Luna, did you see where Herman went?"
"Yeah, he's down at the Lake with Nora."
"Thanks, Luna."
"Not a problem, Harry."
…
"Should I have told her that?"
Luna blinked blearily, debating looking into the future to see the result, before shrugging her shoulders.
It was too late in the day for this.
She reached over, turning off the lamp, pulling down her sleep mask, and cuddling into her body pillow. Herman's face was printed on the front.
It was a shame she couldn't order these professionally yet. It would be a good few years before they were made to order. That meant she had to get by with her own work, and for all Luna's talents at seeing the future, sewing was not something she was able to pick up.
So she had to settle for this charmed image, on three pillows she'd stuck together.
She snuggled closer, locking the third pillow between her legs and grinding against it.
It would do for now.
---
She wasn't stalking. She really wasn't
What she was doing was simply ensuring that her friend was safe.
Dates were dangerous, after all! He could be attacked, assaulted even, by a strange woman!
What if she put something in his drink, or they decided they loved each other enough to get hitched?
What Harry was doing was just protecting him from those dangerous possibilities.
So when she, wrapped in her invisibility cloak, crouched down near some bushes, as she watched Herman and Nora walk by the water.
The short girl narrowed her eyes as the two hugged again, even kissing. She did her best not to react. It was his choice, of course, who he dated, but-
Nora?
Really?
Herman had so many better options, in the dorm.
Like her!
Harry paused.
Though, to be fair, she supposed he didn't know she was a girl, so he may not know he had better options.
She had a brief daydream, where she told Herman that night. He'd instantly break up with Nora, and then they'd go on a date.
The raven-haired girl bit her lip, as a hand, hidden underneath her invisibility cloak, slipped down to her pants, considering.
Could she really…
Looking left and right, there wasn't a soul around.
No one would know.
She thought for only a second more before breaking and unbuttoning her pants, watching as the two began kissing again, Nora moaning loud enough that Harry could hear her from here.
Surely it couldn't feel that good.
Harry bit her lips as her fingers ghosted into her panties, her pants now rolled up around her feet. She'd sat down on a nearby bench, facing the two, and leaned back, her legs spread wide.
.
----------->
.
Her eyes, sharp from Quidditch, spotted the way Herman's fingers dug into that Man-Stealers ass. Harry imagined it as her instead, Herman's fingers on her ass, kissing her. Then he'd throw her down on her bed, in their dorm, feeling her body, finally noticing her.
Finally taking her, making her the woman she was meant to be.
A moan escaped her lips, loud, and Harry's eyes shot open, and she tried to see if they'd heard. Neither of the two lovebirds reacted, and Harry sighed before restarting the movement of her hand, a finger slowly slipping into her dripping quim, quickly finding a particular spot.
She bit off another moan.
She imagined them in the locker room, again, Harry stripping down, and him just so happening to notice.
A strong hand on her back, pushing her forward into her locker, so only her ass was sticking out. A warm, long object wedging itself between her cheeks, and then inside her.
Hand speeding up, Harry shoved part of the invisibility cloak between her teeth, muffling her voice.
She really should get down there, stop the two of them.
It was after curfew, after all. They could get in trouble. She'd also put an end to their date, and Herman would be all worked up, and they'd go back to their dorm. Harry's clothing would be all wet, and she'd strip down naked in front of him, acting oblivious.
The frustration from her canceling his date, the sexual tension, it'd boil over, and he'd grab her hips and-
Another louder moan escaped past her fingers, and she squirted, hips humping the air, as she sprayed her priceless heirloom with her girl-cum.
.
---------->
.
The two down by the water didn't seem to notice, though, too wrapped up in each other as things heated up.
Harry bit her lips even harder.
Maybe she could watch for just a bit longer…
-x-X-x-
A few days after your date, you woke up, stretched, and hopped out of bed.
It had ended well, with Nora and you having a bit of fun on the edge of the Black Lake.
You'd both also learned some valuable lessons.
While it was fun and thematic, you didn't think either of you were interested in having sex anywhere near sand ever again.
The second thing the two of you learnt was that there was an automatic alert sent to the Head of House whenever a student left their dormitories after hours.
The detention you'd had with McGonagall had been entirely worth it, though. (The woman had determined that Freya, apparently, was "Unable to be impartial." And had taken over your detentions herself)
(She'd made you grade papers from the remedial classes. It was literally hell)
The second thing that had resulted from that night was a… odd change in Harry's behavior.
She'd started being more open, with you, and with the others. This took the form of more relaxed conversations, more smiles, and also…
"You don't mind if I get undressed here, do you, Herman?" She asked, a weird smile on her face. "I need to get changed for class, after all." She was already getting undressed when she asked.
.
-------->
.
"Not a problem, I'll turn around." You offered, spinning in place as you sorted through some homework.
She froze.
"Great. That's great. I sure hope you don't peek, but I wouldn't know if you did, really."
She sounded strained. You waited until she finished, with your roommate taking an oddly long amount of time, and feeling the need to narrate the lot of it.
Once she was done, though, the two of you went down to the common room, and then headed towards the great hall for breakfast.
It was in the hallway outside of Professor McGonagall's classroom, just a few turns away from the Great Hall, that the two of you paused.
"Minerva, this is getting ridiculous! Not only is the school filled with fools and knaves, but that… scoundrel, Granger, as well. And now Albus is refusing to give me the stone back?"
The sound of Isolde's hissing voice was audible through the door, and Harry and you shared a look, understanding gained instantly, as you both wordlessly agreed to eavesdrop.
"I'm working on it, Isolde. Albus is being difficult with even me, and with the latest attempt…" The transfiguration professor sounded tired, and there was a noise similar to something glass being placed on a table. "He's even more stubborn than before. He genuinely believes that the safest place for it is here, with the rumors of… You-Know-Who."
Isolde snorted loudly, with derision, a noise you were used to hearing.
"Just say his name, Minerva. The man lived a fool and died one; he doesn't deserve deference in death. Voldemort is dead. Even if he did live, the stone would likely do nothing for him, in the state he would be in now…"
"That doesn't mean there isn't a risk… We should take this into my office." Minerva clammed up, and the voices grew quieter, before vanishing.
Harry and you shared a look, another agreement being reached.
"We should totally go figure out where they're talking about."
"None of our business."
Or not.
-x-X-x-
Defense Against the Dark Arts was an… Odd class.
It was Harry's favorite, the girl rocking on her heels happily as we entered the classroom, but Harry had always been more of a practical mind. She disliked the philosophical aspect of magic, and enjoyed being able to point her wand and have it do things.
No, what made Defense Against the Dark Arts odd was not the coursework, the other students, or anything like that.
What made the Course odd was its professor.
.
------->
.
Professor Quirinus Quirrel.
For one, he was one of the very few staff members of the school who was male, although that didn't make him popular with the female population as much as one may think.
The man, seemingly always gaunt, wasn't particularly personable. He smelt of garlic nearly constantly, could barely speak without a heavy stutter, and seemed uncomfortable and desperate to end every conversation he was a part of.
But what truly made the class odd was none of those things. No, unlike every other professor at the School of Hogwarts, Professor Quirrel was the only one who seemed to genuinely dislike his subject and teaching it.
The man seemed uncomfortable and unhappy every class, and could barely get through a single lesson without breaking down or going off on an unrelated tangent, for the sake of simply avoiding the lesson.
Quirrel simply didn't seem to enjoy teaching DADA, and indeed he didn't seem to know a particularly large amount about the subject either.
Not that it stopped Harry from having a blast each class, sometimes literally. DADA was also the only class where we learned what were, ostensibly, combat spells.
You shuddered, recalling the week Harry had learnt the blasting curse. The girl had spent hours explaining to you why it was the most versatile spell ever made, and its many possible uses.
The phase had ended, thankfully, when Flitwick had confiscated her wand for a day, after Harry had 'Explosion!' 'd a painting in the common room.
Today, though, was slightly different. As we filed in, Professor Quirrel was at the front of the room, and for once the man seemed almost eager for class to start, an odd smile stretching his thin features in ways that almost seemed unnatural.
You and Harry sat in your usual seats, near the front, and waited as the other servants filed in. Harry, who had sat beside you, winced quietly, rubbing at her forehead.
"Are you alright?" You whispered. Class hadn't started yet, but with the room so oddly quiet, you figured some care might be good.
"Yeah, I just…" She winced again. "My scars are hurting for some reason."
Bringing your arm up, as if to do something, you laid it on her shoulder, when you realized you knew pathetically little about medical magic. "Would you like me to take you to Pomphrey's?"
She shook her head.
"No need, class is starting anyway." Another wince. "I'll be fine."
You were skeptical, but didn't get a chance to protest more, as Quirrel clapped his hands together, that same smile on his face.
"Good morning, class." The lack of stutter wasn't noticeable to only you. The entirety of the class seemed to perk up at the odd behavior. Instead, his voice was smooth, confident, almost oily, and he spoke like someone used to being listened to.
The complete opposite of Quirrel.
His eyes slid around the room.
"Today, we will be learning about how certain types of spells can be used, independent of their original function, for the purposes of defending yourselves."
An odd glint entered his eyes.
"Would anyone like to volunteer a possible spell?"
At the answering silence, most of the class was likely shocked by Quirrell's sudden and unexplained eloquence; the turban-wearing man continued, stalking to the other side of the classroom as he did.
"No need to be shy, truly. Household charms, spells you've seen your parents use. I would even accept prank jinxes, and I promise I won't tell Filch." He turned again, smiling in a surprisingly natural-looking way.
The way the man was talking, the way he moved, it was all somehow many times more charismatic and personable than he'd been before
Another round, the man stopping at multiple tables, and waiting for a response. When none came, he moved on, until finally stopping at yours and Harry's table.
He paused, giving Harry a long look, before shifting his attention over to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Harry wince, her hand coming up to her scar to clutch at it, as if she had some sort of headache.
"Ah, Mr. Granger." You straightened.
"Professor."
"Would you be willing to share with us a possible charm or jinx you know, that is typically purposed for everyday use?"
You thought for a moment; several came to mind: Lumos, Aguamenti, even cleaning spells.
All of them, though, seemed too simple. The way spells such as those could be used offensively was clear.
Blinding an enemy, drowning them, even the scouring charm, you imagined, if charged with enough power behind it, could likely scour flesh from bone.
One, however, came to mind that was just a bit more difficult.
"Reparo."
Quirrel blinked, shifting a bit.
"Reparo. The repair charm…" He turned, flicking his wand towards the blackboard. A piece of chalk shot up, sketching out the name of the spell, alongside simple diagrams of the wand movements.
"An interesting choice, Granger." Moving back to the front of the classroom, the man took up an empty mug that sat on his desk, the one Quirrel typically drank a foul-smelling potion from, and studied it for a moment.
"Observe." He then dropped the mug, the cup crashing to the ground and shattering in a frankly spectacular manner. Several pieces flew off in different directions, one rolling underneath your seat, and more going elsewhere. The mug was, for all intents and purposes, utterly broken.
"The Reparo spell is a spell that falls on the far left side of Boggle's spectrum of magic. It functions far more off intent, rather than ritual." Another flick, and wordlessly the largest piece of the mug floated into the air. "One simply finds the largest piece of their previously broken object, pictures in their mind how it looked when it was whole, and…"
A quick movement, almost too fast to spot.
"Reparo!"
It was like watching a time-lapse in reverse, as pieces flew from around the room, remaking the mug in mid-air. Some tiny pieces seemed to instead manifest out of nothing, until finally the mug was one again.
Quirrell set it on the desk.
"The Reparo charm works on four principles, and is a class one spell because of it. The first, intent." He gestured. "To repair. The second, material. The more of the original material is present, the easier. Three, complexity. The more complicated an object, the more difficult it is to repair." He turned back to the board, seeming to study.
"Finally, there is power. How much magic is poured into the spell itself."
He made a complex movement, and a statue that you just noticed was standing behind the board made a crackling noise before animating to life, its stone body cracking as it moved through space, stomping in front of the board.
Once it was standing at attention, Quirrel turned to the front of the room.
"Mr. Granger has truly cut our work out for us. How may the repair spell be used offensively to defend oneself?" He paused. "Turn and speak with your partner; you have five minutes to brainstorm three ideas. Write them down, and then we'll test them."
Silence, and Quirrel grinned, clapping his hands twice.
"Well, get to work!"
It took Harry a minute to get over the sudden, inexplicable Headache she'd gotten, but the two of you had gotten down to business fast enough.
The actual brainstorming, though, was interesting, if somewhat slow.
You also learned that Harry's imagination was both impressive and horrifying.
Seriously, some of the suggestions she came up with were… concerning.
Like, honestly.
Where did someone think of the idea of 'Repairing their throat shut' or 'Repairing their ass crack '?
It sounded effective enough but… You didn't think the Professor would appreciate the suggestions.
Instead, working together, the two of you managed to come up with a list of three possible uses of the Reparo charm, beyond simply fixing items in the home.
You had just finished writing them down on a piece of parchment paper when the egg timer Quirrel had set out rang, loud and clear.
The man in question, who'd been speaking with another pair of students who seemed particularly stumped, looked up briefly.
"Please finish writing your ideas on the paper, and be ready to present at least one of them, if needed." He said before finishing up his conversation and making his way back to the front of the room.
Once at the front, he hummed, scanning the faces in front of him, before speaking.
"Hm, Bones, give me at least one example from your work."
Susan Bones, who'd been partnered with another student you didn't recognize, gulped loudly before standing. You leaned over, looking at the redhead.
It'd been a while since you'd had any meaningful interaction with her, after that first potions class. You felt somewhat bad, but so much had happened that it made casual conversation hard. Too many commitments and too little time.
.
---------->
.
"Y-yes, Professor." She stuttered out, paper held tight in her hands. "One possible example we thought of was… To use the Reparo charm to repair their brains, to the point of reverting them to an infantile mental state. This could be used on v-violent offenders." As she spoke, she seemed to gain more confidence, and she nodded. "This could be a good tool, and a kinder alternative to the kiss, or sentences more than ten years."
…
The class was silent.
You personally were struck a bit dumb.
That was…. Horrifying.
Harry elbowed you, seemingly not at all put off.
"See, my idea wasn't so bad." She whispered.
Quirrel at the front seemed similarly thrown off, the man's face even a bit unnerved as he took a step back from the sweetly smiling redhead.
"That… A great idea, Ms. Bones, although maybe you ought to bring it up with your mother before experimenting… I'm afraid that will also be difficult to demonstrate on our dummy here…" Quirrel looked across the room, for another example, as Susan opened her mouth to share her other two.
"Ah, Mr. Potter." He said, sounding somewhat desperate. "Would you care to share your group's ideas?"
It didn't sound like a question, and Harry cleared her throat before picking up the paper.
"Well, professor, we figured you could use the flying pieces of the item you're repairing as shrapnel. Like a grenade. Our second idea was to repair someone's clothing, so that it tightened and became more stiff, and finally…" She hesitated. This was our most out-there idea. "We thought, with the right amount of power and mindset, you could even 'repair' doorways and buildings, back to their base materials."
The professor, who'd been listening closely, seemed much more pleased at this answer, and he nodded before turning away.
"Very good, Mr. Potter. You may sit." Harry did so, clutching her scar as she did.
"Has it hurt before?" You asked, feeling a bit concerned. She shook her head.
"Not like this."
Your conversation was interrupted by Quirrel turning to his dummy.
"Let's see how good your ideas do in practice, yes?" He said before gesturing at the statue. It came to life, stomping towards the turban-wearing wizard as he assumed an odd stance.
"First… let's see if we can slow him down, shall we?" He waved his wand. "Reparo!"
The cracks and seams of the statue's stone armor and skin began sealing, and as it moved, new cracks formed. It seemed much more stiff, though, and slowed to nearly a crawl as it fought its own body.
Quirrel nodded.
"Good. But we don't win a fight by defense alone. One also needs to attack. How about that shrapnel idea…" He plucked the mug off his desk, and in a sudden, quick move, pitched it into the ground at an angle, the shards flying across the floor, predominantly between the statue's legs.
"Reparo!"
And then, the shards flew back, but unlike last time, they didn't have any impetus to move out of the way of students and objects, and instead the two dozen or so ceramic shards drove into the statue's back, several emerging from its chest. The stone knight jerked, but was still moving, as Quirrel lowered his wand.
"The last attempt, let's see how this goes." You watched rapt, as he raised his wand one more time.
"Reparo!"
This one seemed to have more force behind it, and the statue shuddered before, suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, beginning to fall to pieces, shards flowing off and forming large stones that fell to the ground. The process sped up, the poor knight disintegrating, before finally, all that was left was a pile of stone rubble.
He turned to the class.
"There are many ways one can use nearly any spell. There are two large advantages to this practice. The first, wards can be set to detect certain spells and certain types of magic. Oftentimes, this is your standard offensive casts. They are not, however, typically tuned to pick up things like Reparo, or Accio."
His eyes seemed to lock onto your table as he spoke.
"The other advantage is, of course, the fact that your enemies will not expect them. And an unexpected spell is an effective one. Remember that." You took down the quote in your notes.
"Of course, the original purposes have their places as well. Reparo."
The stones flew up, reforming the statue in question, before Quirrel directed it back to its spot. He watched it, for a moment, before turning back to the class.
"The rest of class will be dedicated to an exercise of this nature. I will put an unlikely, but possible scenario on the board, and you will brainstorm solutions. Turn your paper with at least five of them to me by the end of class. Include your reasonings as well."
Instead of waving his wand, he lifted the chalk himself.
"The scenario will be…" He trailed off, as if to think. "Ah, yes. A fun one." He began writing.
"You will tell me how you would get past a Cerberus using nothing but everyday charms. You can find information on the beast on page 213 in your textbooks. That will be your task for the rest of class. If you finish early, work on your essays."
Finished writing, he moved back to his desk, sitting down.
"I will be here, in case you need help."
You turned to Harry, meeting her eyes, before shrugging.
Time to get to work, you supposed.
-x-X-x-
Finishing the work before class ended was a breeze, and given what Susan had said earlier, you figured it'd be alright if you let Harry use her truly deranged ideas, as long as she was willing to also explain why.
And to sign it.
You didn't want one of the professors to think you were some psychopath.
…The things Harry wanted to do with Alohamora should be considered war crimes.
In your opinion, at the very least.
Still, it got the work done, and the answers she gave were, technically, correct, but honestly you felt bad for Cerberus this was theoretically tried on. It'd be animal cruelty at the very least.
You'd walked up to deliver the paper, which Quirrel took casually, nodding as he did.
"Have a good day, Mr. Granger. I'll see you next class." He said politely, not looking up from the other students' papers he was checking through. There was a quill in his hand, and every few lines he'd scratch out a note in the margins.
"Thank you. You as well, Professor." You said back, just as polite, before heading over to the door, where Harry was wincing as she rubbed at her scar.
"Do you want to go to Madame Pomphrey?" You asked. "I can come with you if you'd like?"
She grumbled, roughly scratching at it one more time, before dropping her arm back down to her side. The mark was an angry red, as if it were about to start bleeding right there and right then.
"No, I'm fine, just… a headache."
You hesitated. You didn't like just disregarding this, but… it was her health. You couldn't make choices for her.
"Alright." You'd still let Veronica know later. The orange-haired girl had a talent for bullying your mutual friend into doing things good for her health.
The next class wasn't for a few hours, anyway, so…
"Want to go find Veronica?" You offered.
Harry thought, for a moment, before turning to you.
"You know, instead, what if we went back to our dorm rooms…" She sidled up a bit closer, smiling oddly. "We'd be all alon-aghk."
Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the ballistic owl that slammed into her after flying through the hall. You recognized it immediately as Errol. The Weasley Owl.
The graying Barn Owl showed up once in a while, during breakfast or dinner, to deliver packages to Veronica or her sisters. Now, though, it seemed to be assaulting a struggling Harry, thrusting a letter in its talons at her as she wiggled.
"Herman! Ghk Help!" She yelped. You watched for a moment longer, dryly wondering why she didn't just grab the bird and stand up, before sighing.
"Errol." The owl froze, turning to you with a hoot. You held out your hand, and the other gingerly put the letter out. You took it.
"Thank you. I'll get you some bacon later." You promised, before opening the parchment, as Harry climbed to her feet.
The piece looked as if it had been ripped from a notebook, and the writing was hasty and messy. You recognized it as Veronica, but it was as if she'd written it as fast as she could.
'HERMAN HARRY. TWINS THIRD FLOOR PRANK HELP!
ps im gonna miss lunch bring food two plz.'
You blinked before glancing at Harry, as she finished reading it herself. She met your eyes.
"Isn't the third floor…?"
"The place Dumbledore explicitly forbade us from going. Yes." You sighed, nodding.
A moment passed between the two of you.
"Let's go get our idiot?" She asked.
You groaned before nodding.
"Yep."
The two of you set off for the dormitory first, to pick up Harry's cloak.
You'd need it to get onto the Third Floor, after all.
-x-X-x-
It only took you and Harry a very short amount of time to retrieve the cloak. The common room was only sparsely populated, and the two of you were able to slip in and out without much delay.
Harry did, however, pause, frowning oddly at the cloak when she picked it up. You watched, from a bit away, as the girl glanced at you, and then back to the shimmery fabric. Almost as if she was trying to be subtle about it, you watched as she slowly raised the fabric to her nose and gave it a sniff.
Her face flushed instantly, as her nose wrinkled, and she looked from you, and then back to the cloak, and then to you again.
"Ah- uh." She stuttered out, slowly tucking the cloak behind her back. "Can you, give me just a moment, I've got to, um, use the restroom." She said before grabbing a small bag which you recognized as her toiletry bag, and dashing off. You watched as she entered and slammed the restroom door.
"Huh." No one responded to your confused noise.
You sat on your bed, waiting, as the sink ran in the bathroom, alongside Harry muttering spells. You didn't try to listen in, but just by being in proximity, you were able to identify them as cleaning spells.
…Maybe there was a stain or something on the cloak? You didn't think she'd used it that much, honestly, for it to smell bad.
You only ended up having to wait for another few moments before Harry exited again, muttering drying charms at the cloak as she held it over her arm. Her face was still red when she looked at you.
"Ehe, sorry about that. I just needed to uh-, clean it a bit."
You shrugged.
"Sounds good to me, although we should really get going now." 'Ron's note had sounded urgent, and while you were sure her sisters wouldn't actually do anything to harm the other redhead, they would prank her until she cried if they were given the chance.
…You should probably discipline the two when you got a chance again.
Probably.
Harry nodded quickly.
"Y-yup! Let's get going- just-" She nodded to her still damp cloak. "We can put it on near Binn's classroom, before the stairs. Until then I should probably still dry it."
That made sense to you, so you nodded and went on your way.
The journey there had been relatively uneventful, and Harry and you had slipped into a nearby unused classroom; Hogwarts had many of these sorts of things, to put the cloak over your heads.
The magical fabric was more than comfortably large enough to fit two people. In fact, it was almost like it was meant to do so, given its length. It was likely even a bit cumbersome for Harry to use alone.
Although, standing under it now, though…
"Does it smell funny?" You asked, grabbing a corner and pressing it to your nose. Behind you, Harry froze.
"I- N-no. Not to me."
You sniffed again.
"…smell's kinda like fish." You muttered before shrugging. "Next time, wash it a bit more often. It's important to care for magical artifacts like these." You scolded lightly. Harry was normally pretty good at this sort of thing, but the girl could be forgetful sometimes.
She nodded rapidly.
"Yep! I'll keep an eye on it this time. Let's just- get going then, right?" She seemed desperate to move on.
It wasn't offensive, only a bit familiar, and the two of you did have somewhere to be, so-
"Yep. Let's go." You said, leading the way out of the door.
The one downside of the invisibility cloak, which was thankfully mostly thwarted due to how small Harry was, was the fact that anyone under it would need to be in proximity to one another in order to be completely hidden.
While you and Harry weren't exactly crammed together, you could feel the shorter girl's presence at your back, and occasionally, she would brush against you. Your back mostly, but sometimes against your waist, or butt.
She apologized every time, although your friend did get weirdly quiet as the two of you ascended the stairs, with her directly, almost uncomfortably close behind you.
You paused, at one of the landings, to check on her, given the odd behaviour, both now, and during class.
"Hey, are you doing alright?" You whispered, looking towards her from under the cloak.
Harry's face was a bright red, and the cloak felt uncomfortably warm, for some reason.
She took only a second to answer, and when she did, it was with a squeak.
"Fine, why do you ass- I MEAN ASK! Why do you ask?"
You stared at her, for a moment, analyzing.
"Does your scar hurt?" She was acting somewhat differently, and her scar had been hurting before.
She blinked at the question, before the color seemed to drain a bit in favor of her more natural pallor and she shook her head.
"N-no it's fine. Hasn't hurt since Defence, actually. Why do you ask?"
You eyed her for a bit longer, before shrugging.
"Just checking in. Are you ready to go?"
She nodded quickly.
"Yep!" He voice broke a bit near the end, and she licked her lips.
As you turned to go up the stairs, though, and she began to follow, you paused again.
"Could you maybe keep a bit more distance, though? You nearly fell over when I stopped, and I don't want to have to dive after you down the stairs."
The question seemed logical, but she took a moment to answer before, almost reluctantly, nodding.
"Sure."
Happy, or at the very least satisfied with the answer, you turned, and together the two of you ascended the final staircase to the third floor.
There was… less security than you thought, and not a soul was around to stop the two of you even if you were visible. Soon you both were standing on solid ground, and looking around at the long hallways.
"…Did she say where to go-" A loud crash rang out, and the two of you flinched.
You looked to Harry, then down the way it came.
"I'd say that way, maybe."
She nodded.
"Yeah."
The two of you rushed down the hall.