"Hermione, I love you, but I'm hurt" said Harry in a contrived voice. "Ron and I followed the instructions to the letter and we got lucky is all! You value success so much that you can't accept failure, even if you were only third best. Let it go Hermione!" Said Harry with a touch of false exasperation.
For a tense moment it looked as if Hermione would have clubbed him to death with the 1956 edition of advanced potions making she was holding, until she slowly began to melt, and then, most surprising of all, she cried. A lot.
Harry had no idea what to do, so he just hugged her awkwardly as Hermione cried and sniffed in his chest. "There there" he said, patting her on the back. "It's okay, it's okay. Sorry I was harsh"
After a moment, the sniffing Hermione took deep breaths and calmed down. "I'm sorry I'm such a bad friend" she said "You and Ron have always stuck by me and I'm getting mad about a dumb potion"
Harry could not let her friend feel bad, so he cupped her face with his hands softly, as if he was handling a bowl of soup, and said "Hermione you were there not once or twice but thrice when Ron's life and mine were in danger. The first time you couldn't was because you'd been petrified by a basilisk rescuing our asses. The second time was because you were in the audience cheering for me. I couldn't ask for a better friend than you, okay?" Their foreheads were really close now and he kept thinking about how this summer at the burrow with her had been great and how pretty she looked in the library's light. He felt his heart jump like it always did when he made a stupid decision and kissed her forehead. Real quick. Just a peck.
Hermione stood silent for another moment, and Harry almost wished he'd been clubbed to death by the book earlier.
"Thanks Harry" was her final answer, as she patted him on the back very professionally, before breaking their hug. "I should really get some sleep, and a good book. Maybe get pie. Lord I'm hungry"
Harry was eager to agree, because he did not want to longer on that kiss. Or that hug. It felt so very good and right on a dozen levels but also.... Weird? He prefered his mind on Shepherd's pie, hopefully made from real shepherds.
"Though if I'm being honest" continued Harry, snitching for the only time in his life "I have no idea what Ron pulled to make this potion. He seemed weirdly creative and agitated, didn't he?"
"YES thank God I thought I was going crazy" was Hermione's almost immediate answer "The fact is, I was following his movements to make sure he didn't blow himself up or anything, but he didn't do exactly as we did! At one point he crushed his seeds with the other end of his ingredients knife, and he kept turning his cauldron the wrong way! I thought it might've been the instructions of an older edition but I couldn't find it!!!! The closest thing I got was from a book in potions making from 1278, but it's in German. I think he's definitely up to something. He didn't even brag!!!! I braced myself for a bloody minute in case he'd brag but instead he transfigured his blasted face into a beer. Thank God I'm not the only one seeing it."
She breathed in relief, like she finished a marathon or a particularly good soup. Harry couldn't hide an amused smile, but that really was alright.
"I'm not going to prove too much into it but I will watch him... Patiently. Like an otter!" She finished, slightly excited. "And then he'll confess his crimes. Nobody excepts the Spanish Inquisition baby"
"Riiiiiight" said Harry "Listen, I gotta go get a uuuuuuuh quidditch thingmajabber, but I'll be there for dinner, okay? You save me some pie"
"Sure thing Harry" said Hermione, turning back, not noticing Harry taking a stray hair from her shoulders. He really had some Slytherin in him.
————————————
Once on the quidditch field, Harry finally left out a breath of relief. Girls were weird. He almost envied Dudley because this kind of thing never happened to him. The last time Dudley had a girl as a friend she was 7'5 (at least that's how twelve year old Harry remembered her) and taught him how to roll cigarettes and how to throw a left.
It having rained the day before, Harry had all the mud he could need. He knelt down to pick some up, but then a big ominous shadow covered him fully.
"Oh hi Ginny" said Harry
"Oi Harry, what are you doing there, collecting mud like some kind of mud pervert" asked Ginny, 20 feet above him, sitting on one side of her broom.
"Uuuh you're the mud pervert" replied Harry, very weakly and slightly panicking inside. Not only had he been caught doing something dumb, but Ginny was at that age where teens give surnames that stick. He hoped he would not forever be a mud pervert. "What with you getting mud over your clothes and all"
"Yeah right. If I could marry the mud.... Wait I think some 16th century pureblood idiot did it once. Shit. I can marry mud Harry. It's a whole new world of possibilities and whatnot. Once again the brave Harry Potter changes my outlook on life."
"Anyhow, what are you doing here?" Asked Harry. "Training doesn't start until two weeks from now, and you're not even part of the team yet."
"Think there's someone better than me?"
Harry felt very flustered all of a sudden, though why he didn't know. "I mean, probably not in your year or above. I think. You're like, very good though. Totally believing in you there"
"Thanks mate" said Ginny, coming down to Harry's level "I'm just enjoying flying above the castle grounds. Very soothing. This year is gonna be a toughie so I might as well enjoy the things that ain't shit"
Harry did enjoy things that weren't shit. He knew everyone did but in this moment it felt like it was important. He cleared his throat "I'm taking mud for a botany project. Something for 6th years. Wanna help me pick it up?" He didn't know why he asked her that, it just made sense in context. That was probably what normal people did, right? Gather mud.
"Nah man, I think I'm gonna fly around Snape's classroom. It always drives him nuts. Good luck on the botany thing"
Harry waited for her to take off, but then Ginny stayed, looking him right in the eyes.
"Uh" started Harry, with all the eloquence of a 16 year old
"Hey, you know what?" Said Ginny, untying the thick woolen scarf around her neck "it's still September and there's no wind at all, so I'm going to fly without that dumb scarf on. Be a mate and get it back to the locker room for me, will you?"
Harry agreed, and Ginny took flight as she threw her scarf down to him. He took enough mud to fit inside the big thermos aunt petunia had handed him after she discovered it could no longer heat or cool anything. Thankful for his aunt's only good gift, he entered the locker room and exited it, but not before taking one of Ginny's hair from the scarf.
——————————
Dinner was surprisingly uneventful. Ron ate in silence while Hermione tried to make conversation, even going so far as to ask him something about quidditch "Is there a maximum height?" "The one where you freeze to death and can't breathe I guess? I don't know. I don't know anything." Ginny was in deep conversation with Neville about Snape's DADA classes "he knows the stuff" "yeah but he's weird about it" "did we have any normal DADA teacher?" "....." "Case on fucking point Neville"
After dinner, Harry still had time before the 10 pm curfew. He really wanted to test out the first spell, but he didn't know exactly where to go, which places could be empty and discreet enough in the evening?
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