A Promise Kept - Chapter 20 - Muggles and Ice Cream

Muggles and Ice Cream

What had happened the previous evening felt as though it was a fever dream, and were it not for Neville eyeing her curiously, Hermione would not quite believe that what had occurred was real.

Her intention had been to confirm her suspicions that Professor Lupin was indeed a werewolf; not for any nefarious purpose, but merely to satisfy her own curiosity. She could not have imagined what had unfolded around her would be the result of what she thought was such a trivial matter.

Even so, having seen Professor Black, and hearing his rather pressing questions, Hermione had lost her composure as the weight of the torment, teasing, and outright bullying she’d endured came crashing down on top of her.

She had spoken to Professor McGonagall, who had done her utmost to put a stop to it, but her efforts had been for nothing. If anything, Draco and those that associated themselves with him had targeted her all the more, confident that they were all but untouchable.

Still, things could not have gotten much worse, and she found herself unburdening herself to Professor Black, who had inadvertently interrupted a meeting between the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, and perhaps one of the most famous people in the Wizarding world.

Harry Potter.

Hermione had been so caught up in the moment that she had barely managed a word or two around him, and before she could even comprehend what was happening, he was gone, evidently on his own undertaking to see that Draco no longer got away with what he was doing to Hermione, and dozens of others around the school.

“You still haven’t said why McGonagall brought you back to the tower last night,” Neville murmured.

Hermione shook her head.

“It’s nothing.”

She didn’t like lying to the one friend she had, but she had promised Professor McGonagall that she would not mention Harry Potter being at Hogwarts.

She would keep her word, if nothing else.

Neville frowned before shrugging and helping himself to some toast from one of the racks.

Hermione followed suit, her gaze flitting towards the Slytherin table expectantly, even if she wasn’t sure what was going to happen.

What had Harry done? Had he even done anything?

She couldn’t be certain, but she did not miss the look of concern his godfather worn, nor the tighter expression of her Head of House as they too both observed the students clad in silver and green.

By the time she had finished her breakfast, Hermione believed that nothing would happen, that Harry Potter had not followed through with his intentions, and she could not help but feel a mixture of disappointment and relief.

That, however, changed in an instant as a girlish scream tore through the length and breadth of the Great Hall, and everyone within turned to look in horror at Draco Malfoy as he was dangled upside-down by his ankle with his robes hanging over his head, exposing his pink, feminine underwear with what appeared to be a unicorn stitched into the front.

Hermione did not believe they were the ones he had chosen for the day, but that’s what he wore now as he flailed helplessly.

If that had been the end of the chaos, she would have been quite satisfied, but only a moment later, both Crabbe and Goyle joined him, followed by Theo Nott.

As the shock of what had happened wore off, those gathered for breakfast laughed, though Professor Snape did not appear to be especially amused. He was glaring at Professor Black before he decided to intervene, though not before Pansy Parkinson began squealing like a pig, clutching at her backside.

Hermione spotted a squiggly, pink tale protruding from between her fingers, and although she knew she should not laugh, she did; the years of bullying she’d sustained at the hands of those now suffering humiliation allowing her a moment of joy in their misery.

“You’re welcome,” a voice whispered in her ear.

She saw nothing, nor heard anything else, but knew that Harry Potter, for reasons only known to himself, had shown those that believed themselves to be untouchable, were not so.

The rest of the school year had passed quite peacefully amid the rumours of quite an ugly showdown between Professors Snape and Black, but there was no credence to them, despite Peeves loudly proclaiming to have seen the two men having a heated exchange in Dumbledore’s office.

To Hermione, it didn’t matter. For once, Draco had gotten exactly what he’d deserved, and not even his father had been able to put a stop to it nor punish anyone.

No evidence had been found by Dumbledore, and Snape had been in a worse mood than usual.

In truth, Hermione had been glad to get away from the castle for the summer, hoping all would be close to normal for the next school year.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a knock at her bedroom door, and her frowning mother entered.

“Hermione, there is a boy at the door who says he is a friend of yours from school,” she informed her.

Hermione was taken aback, and she kept her hand on her wand as she descended the stairs, ready to defend herself if there was something afoot.

She had no friends besides Neville, after all, and he openly admitted he had no idea how to navigate the muggle world.

(Break)

“I just do not think we should be encouraging this behaviour,” Lily sighed, “and certainly not rewarding it.”

“I was getting the box regardless, and Harry did a service to that school. Listen, I get that we could be a little overzealous when it came to the Slytherins, but Albus wasn’t doing anything about it, and Snape all but encourages the behaviour of his students. It needed to happen, and no one was hurt, just humiliated enough to maybe think twice about carrying on as they have been, but I doubt that.”

Lily shook her head.

“It is not how I want him behaving, Sirius.”

“And in an ideal world, he wouldn’t but we do not live in such a world. You remember how it was for you and others like you. Not much has changed. Hermione Granger is a lonely muggleborn with no one to stand up for her when she needs it. I’m limited on what I can do…”

“So, you set Harry on them.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say set him on them. He was there when I discussed it with Minerva…”

“And you knew full well how he would react.”

“Maybe,” Sirius said with a grin. “They got what they deserved, Lily, and if that prevents a talented witch like Hermione Granger from being discouraged to stay in the wizarding world, I will rest easy knowing there are people like Harry around to see that happen. We need more people like that.”

Unfortunately for Sirius, that had not been the end of the fallout, but he didn’t care. Snape had no proof of anyone’s involvement, and the git had done his best to blame everyone he could think of for being responsible, though perhaps he would reconsider levelling such accusations at Sirius again.

He smiled at the recent memory of the back and forth the two of them had shared in Dumbledore’s office before shifting his attention back to the muggle house a short distance away.

Sirius Black had never been one for machinations, and subterfuge had never been his strong point, but he’d made an exception this time knowing what he was doing was right.

Flashback

“You got a box for the World Cup final?”

“Not a bad way to experience your first Quidditch match, is it?”

Harry shook his head.

“Exactly, and there is more than enough space for all of your friends to come along. It will be fun, even for those who aren’t fans of the sport.”

“I’m just surprised,” Harry sighed. “It’s in Britain.”

“Well, It’s only a few years until you will be going back. It might make it easier for you to spend a little time there. Besides, you’ll be in a private box away from the usual rabble.”

“Can we camp?”

Sirius scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll need to make some arrangements, but we can make it work. Are you planning on your friends staying here again?”

“Mum said it would be okay so long as I speak with Norbert to keep him away.”

Sirius snorted amusedly.

For a formidable beast, Norbert had become as much of their home as anything else that roamed here. He knew to leave the other creatures alone, that they were not his food supply, and stuck to hunting in the lake.

“Then it’s fine with me, but there is one other thing. I think there is someone else that will appreciate an invitation.”

Harry frowned for a moment before nodding his understanding.

“Of course,” he agreed readily. “The one problem is, Sirius, I have no idea where she lives. Anyway, why do I have to invite her. I’ve not even spoken to her, not really.”

“Because it would be damned strange if I was seen to be inviting a fourteen-year-old girl to a Quidditch match.”

“Yeah, I don’t think even your stellar reputation can handle that bad press,” Harry said amusedly. “Fine, I will do it.”

It had not been difficult for him to extract the address from Minerva, and here they were now, on an odd muggle street in Hampstead Heath, making one of the final arrangements for what would undoubtedly be quite the event.

(Break)

As far as Harry knew, he’d never been inside a muggle household, and he regretted not asking his mother if there were any protocols he needed to adhere to. The last thing he wanted was any social faux pas on his behalf, and knowing Sirius would be useless to ask, he knocked on the door to number 8.

When he received no response, he knocked a little harder, and knew he had the right home when the confused woman answered the door.

Hermione was almost the very image of her mother, and Harry cleared his throat.

“Hello, Mrs Granger, is Hermione here?”

The woman was taken aback, and she seemed to shake her herself from her stupor.

“Are you one of her friends from school?” she whispered excitedly.

“I am.”

Before he could introduce himself, she’d hurried back into the house, beckoning him inside before closing the door and climbing a nearby staircase.

Harry did not move, but he allowed his gaze to roam around the entranceway where he saw various photos that didn’t move depicting the Granger family over the years.

From somewhere within the house, he could hear a radio playing and see wires from the various implements.

“Harry, what are you doing here?”

“Hello, Hermione,” he greeted her a little more confidently than he felt. “Well, I came to speak to you.”

“You did?” the girl asked confusedly.

Her mother looked on in a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

“Would you like a drink, Harry?” she offered with a smile. “We have Coke, Sprite, and I’m sure we have some Fanta if Daniel didn’t drink it all. I’m afraid it is all sugar-free. Come, there’s no need to stand here looking quite gormless.”

Harry followed the woman into a well-furnished living room that wasn’t so different to the few magical ones he’d been in besides the many electrical amenities within.

“Erm, just some water please.”

He’d heard of the other drinks mentioned, even by his mother, but had never tasted them for himself. With how the visit was going so far, Harry felt just as dumbfounded as Hermione appeared to be.

“Sorry, I’ve never been in a muggle house before,” he explained.

“Is it really so different?”

“More than I expected,” Harry chuckled, gratefully accepting the glass of water Hermione’s mother returned with.

“Please, take a seat,” she offered.

Harry did so, not feeling any more comfortable about the situation, but no worse for it, at least.

“So, you’re a wizard?” Mrs Granger asked. “I find the whole thing rather fascinating, even if I have very little understanding of it. Hermione is unable to show us any magic, but the lady who visited us about a place at Hogwarts showed us some incredible things.”

Harry nodded.

“I am, but I’m sorry Mrs Granger, I won’t be able to show you anything either. There are strict laws that prevent it until we are seventeen.”

“Oh, I understand,” the woman said disappointedly. “So, Harry, are you Hermione’s boyfriend?”

He had chosen the wrong moment to take a sip of his drink, and the girl sitting so awkwardly beside him groaned embarrassedly.

“Mum!”

Mrs Granger’s response was to appear to be more amused as she smiled at the pair.

“Harry is not my boyfriend. He helped me with something at school, and I didn’t know he was coming here. Why are you here, Harry?”

“I don’t suppose this is going to help our case, but I wanted to invite you to the Quidditch World Cup final. My godfather has secured a private box for it, and said I should invite all of my friends. We will be camping for the night.”

“What is Quidditch?” Mrs Granger asked confusedly.

“It’s a magical sport,” Hermione answered, her gaze not leaving Harry.

“Oh, well, I’m not sure…”

“We will all be supervised by my godfather and other parents,” Harry assured her. “Sirius is a Professor at Hogwarts, and my mother will visit with the details if you agree that Hermione can come.”

Mrs Granger nodded thoughtfully.

“I do not see it being a problem. How much is a ticket?”

“It won’t cost anything, Mrs Granger,” Harry assured her. “Hermione will be my guest.”

“Well, that is very kind of you, Harry. Why haven’t you mentioned this young man to me or your father before, Hermione?”

The girl was still transfixed on him.

“Because we do not go to the same school. We met under different circumstances.”

Mrs Granger frowned.

“Your godfather is a Professor at Hogwarts, but you do not attend?”

“I go to another school in America.”

“I suppose it makes sense that there are others,” the woman mused aloud. “Well, Hermione, is this something you would like to do?”

“There will be more of my friends, mostly girls from various backgrounds,” Harry assured her.

Hermione seemed to relax before offering him a smile.

“Thank you, Harry, I would really like that.”

(Break)

“I know it was Black! That was one of Potter’s spells!”

“Severus, if Sirius was involved in this, he would be in breach of his contract, and I would be aware of it,” Albus explained to the apoplectic man.

“Then he showed that spell to someone else, probably the Weasley twins!”

“The Weasleys were in the common room all night, Severus. I can confirm that myself,” Minerva interjected. “Oh, dear,” she added as Sirius entered the office.

“YOU!” Severus spat. “I know you were involved in what happened to them!”

“If I were you, Snape, I’d lower my tone. I had nothing to do with it, but I can’t say they don’t deserve it for all they have done to others, things that you have allowed because you do not punish them! So, I will say this once and once only, up yours. You’re still the same petty, bitter, little boy you always were when we were students here. Lily married James. Bloody well get over it.”

It was not often she saw Severus in such a towering rage, nor had she ever seen him draw his wand on another, but Sirius was just as quick, though neither were as fast as Albus who disarmed them both quickly.

“There will be no violence,” he said quietly, his tone brokering no argument. “What happened is an unfortunate incident, one I would not see repeated, and Severus, I have reminded you time and again to curb the behaviour of your students. I expect considerable improvements when they return in September. I will not see Hogwarts embarrassed by the lack of decorum I have seen these past years. Now, there is no evidence of who was involved, so, we will let the matter lie with the assurance that any further transgressions will be punished most harshly on all sides. I hope we have an understanding.”

Minerva was in no doubt that the situation would’ve taken a turn for the worse had Albus not intervened, and tough she could not condone what Harry Potter had done, she could not find it within herself to disagree with his actions.

For too long, the Slytherin students had run roughshod, unchecked, and gotten away with far more than was considered decent. At every turn, Severus had shielded them, and Minerva hoped that would not be so anymore.

She shook her head.

James Potter had been quite the thorn in her side, and she would not deny that he had played his part in the unpleasantness that had plagued Hogwarts during Voldemort’s rise to power. However, there had always been a fondness for him, an appreciation of his talent, which his son had undoubtedly inherited, as he had demonstrated during their follow-up meeting only a few days after the school year had come to an end.

Flashback

She watched as he worked through each of the instructions she gave him, and Minerva could not ignore the uncanny resembling between the boy and his father when James had been the same age.

They even had the same look of concentration, but she knew she could not use her former student in any way to compare the boy before her, who was performing flawlessly.

She exchanged a glance with the smiling Thibault Goode who had joined Harry for the meeting, and she suspected to make her acquaintance. Minerva had heard of his work, had even read his own studies, and he was an impressive man in his own right.

With a thoughtful frown, she picked up the glass cat and inspected it as it yawned before curling up and proceeding to fall asleep in her hand.

Even for a seventh year, the work he was displaying would be truly exceptional, and Minerva would always give credit where it was due.

“Harry, this work is excellent. You have shown a true understanding of what it is I asked of you.”

He beamed proudly, and it was difficult once more not to forget that it wasn’t James Potter showing off for her as he had several times, much to her consternation.

“You have a true talent for Transfiguration, and Professor Goode has done a fantastic job nurturing it.”

Her colleague in her chosen field offered her a humble smile.

“Honestly, Professor, he has made it rather easy,” Goode chuckled, “and as experienced as I am as an instructor, I think there is much you can teach Harry here.”

Minerva nodded.

“I certainly can, and I am willing to do so. We both know how few and far between truly competent practitioners are.”

“Indeed,” Goode sighed, “and of course, if there is anything I can do for you, you need only say.”

“I will bear it in mind, Professor,” Minerva replied.

“Oh, and there is one other thing. Although it is a recent undertaking, I think this young man would greatly benefit from your expertise in becoming an Animagus.”

Minerva was taken aback by the revelation, but given what she had seen the boy achieve, she was not surprised it was something he would take an interest in, especially as it could be so useful.

“I see,” she murmured. “Well, it is certainly a complex project to work on, but I am sure we can make some time for it.”

End Flashback

There would undoubtedly be caveats to the agreement, that she would be discussing with Harry come September when they would begin working together.

Even so, Minerva could not help but feel that a terrible wrong was being righted by doing so, and though she had never been able to explore James Potter’s full potential, she knew the man would be grateful that she was willing to do the very same with his son.

He would have.

If James had lived through the war and saw just how much potential Harry possessed, he would’ve done all he could to ensure the boys’ talents were nurtured, just as his own would have been with Minerva.

(Break)

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m not used to these types of invitations,” Sebastien murmured, “not for the entire family, at least.”

Sirius understood.

He knew that Sebastien himself was a deeply respected man in the French magical community, had worked exceedingly hard top become so, but having married a Veela, there would always be those that viewed his wife and even his daughters as lesser beings because of what they were.

“Everything will be private,” Sirius assured him. “We have our own box and portkeys, and even a private campsite set aside from the others. I thought about all of it before, and the name Black still carries enough weight to afford me these concessions.”

“Then I am sure Apolline and the girls will truly enjoy it. Thank you, Sirius.”

He waved the man off.

“I know Harry wouldn’t be so pleased if Gabrielle couldn’t come, and this is something no one should miss out on. It should be quite the match.”

Sebastien nodded and offered his hand.

“Then we will be delighted to join you.”

He had expected Sebastien to politely decline the invitation but was pleased he hadn’t. He liked the Frenchman. Of the many elite he found himself spending time with during the Wizengamot meetings, he could not profess to like or even respect many of them.

Sebastien Delacour, however, was just a family man, much like Sirius had become when he had taken on Harry and Lily, doing his best to keep those he cared for safe and happy.

That was no easy task outside the four walls of his own home, but that didn’t mean they had to miss out on events others would be attending.

“What are you working on there, Harry?” he asked as he entered the kitchen to find his godson poring over a thick tome whilst he scratched away with a quill.

“The essay for Madame Alarie,” he sighed. “I think she wants to say no to working with me.”

Sirius shook his head amusedly.

“If she wanted to say no, she would have denied you immediately.”

“Maybe,” Harry grumbled, his eyes widening before he cursed under his breath.

Lily would not appreciate such language, but she was visiting with the Grangers to fetch Hermione. The others would be arriving later in the evening to spend a few days on the ranch before heading to the final; something Sirius was quite looking forward to.

The last time he had attended a Quidditch match had been with James and Charlus during the summer before their fourth year at Hogwarts; around the same age Hary and his friends were.

“You figured it out?”

The boy beamed as he continued writing at an impossibly fast pace, and when he was done, he waved his wand over the parchment. It glowed a gentle blue, confirming there were no mistakes in his spelling before he sealed it.

“Done!” he declared, breathing a sigh of relief.

“And the rest of your homework?”

“Done.”

Sirius ruffled his hair affectionately.

“Then the rest of the holiday is yours to enjoy.”

“Good,” Harry sighed. “I’d best see Norbert before they begin arriving.”

He left the kitchen via the backdoor, and Sirius could only shake his head.

Despite everything, Harry truly was thriving, and that was all he could ask for.

(Break)

Harry had been rather uncomfortable and even overwhelmed when he had suddenly arrived to speak with Hermione and her mother, but his mother was not so. Lily Potter had grown up in a muggle home, and as Hermione listened to the woman speaking with her parents, she could not help but admire her.

She too was a muggleborn, had attended Hogwarts at something of a disadvantage, but had grown up to be a strong, confident woman who was raising her son after her husband had been murdered, all before she had even turned twenty-two-years-old.

Hermione could see the similarities between her and Harry, especially the eyes. Harry had gotten Lily’s eyes.

“So, they will be staying with you for a few days before the match?” Hermione’s father asked.

“It is something we started doing last year for Harry,” Lily explained. “Harry and Wendell will have a room of their own, and the girls will have another. I can assure you, there will be no unacceptable behaviour.”

She meant it.

Hermione did not doubt that Lily Potter was a kind and accommodating woman, but she did not strike her as someone that should be crossed.

“I do not see the problem, Daniel,” Hermione’s mother said with a shrug. “She is already at a boarding school surrounded by boys, and one of the Professors will be there.”

Her father nodded.

“Very well,” he sighed.

Her mother smiled, and Hermione suspected she was still reeling from the revelation that their daughter had finally made a friend they had met rather than just heard of.

There had been none during her days at muggle school.

Hermione had preferred to read books than roughhouse in the playground or even socialise much with other children that had very little of interest to say to her.

She didn’t know Harry well, but other than Neville, and even Fred and George Weasley, he’d been the first person to show her kindness, and had even come all this way to invite her to the Quidditch World Cup final.

Now, it seemed she would be spending even more time with him, and even meeting his other friends’ something Hermione was certainly nervous about.

“You had better pack some more things, young lady,” her mother encouraged with a smile.

Upon returning to her room, she did so, quite overwhelmed that not only had she been invited to something so grand, but also to the home of another her age.

For Hermione, it was quite whirlwind of emotions, and though she was apprehensive, she was just as excited.

Harry had been nothing but kind to her, had gone out of his way to help her, and Hermione Granger was more grateful than she could put into words.

“You’ll be fine,” Harry’s mother assured her as they exited the house into the back garden. “They’re all very nice.”

Hermione nodded, still uncertain, but accepted the portkey, not expecting just how turbulent such a form of transportation would prove to be.

“First time?” Mrs Potter asked amusedly.

“I don’t think I liked that very much.”

“No, but the Floo network is worse, and side-along apparation more so. You’ll find that out for yourself. Come on, I expect they are all in the kitchen. Sirius will be plying them with sugar.”

They appeared to be in a basement of sorts, but as they ascended up the steep flight of stone steps, the house Hermione found herself in was enormous, much bigger than any other she had been in, but it was the sounds coming from the kitchen that caught her attention.

She heard laughter and giggling, and as the two of them entered, she fought the urge to laugh at the sight of Harry playfully scolding another boy.

“Now, you won’t be trying to steal my ice cream again, will you, Wendell?”

“No, I’m sorry,” the other boy groaned, screaming as an animated feather began tickling his feet. “Harry, I’m going to wet myself!”

“Not on my kitchen floor,” Mrs Potter huffed. “Harry, let him go.”

“If you insist.”

The boy, Wendell, thudded to the ground, but laughed amusedly as Harry helped him up.

“I didn’t know you were so protective of ice cream,” he snorted. “Erm, Harry, we have company.”

Harry turned, smiling as he caught sight of her, and Hermione immediately relaxed.

“Hello, Hermione,” he greeted her. “Just a minor disagreement about boundaries. Wendell here thought he could help himself to my ice cream. Honestly, the git has been here for five minutes and decided to take liberties.”

“The ice cream wasn’t even in your bowl!”

“I was saving it for Hermione,” Harry returned, “but you, you backwater savage, have no manners.”

“Ah, well I didn’t know that,” Wendell replied. “Still wasn’t any need to be dangling me in the air. Ma and Pa wouldn’t like that.”

Harry chuckled as he shook his head.

“Fortunately, you have some ice cream,” he informed Hermione. “I’d eat it quick. Wendell has a short memory when it comes to food.”

He led her to the table, and Hermione was aware of all the pairs of eyes on her as she sat.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us, Harry?” one of the girls asked.

She was dark-haired and brown-eyed, a very pretty girl.

“Can’t I just eat my ice cream in peace?”

The girl tutted at him.

“I’m Olivia Parker,” she introduced herself, her accent American as Hermione had expected. “This is Marisa, Isabelle, Gabrielle, Maggie, and you already met Wendell.”

“Hermione Granger,” Hermione replied.

Olivia offered her a warm smile.

“Now we can eat our ice cream,” she declared.

It was odd just how accepting they were of her presence. Undoubtedly, there would be questions. Hermione had many of her own to ask, but for now, she followed the rest of the others and simply tucked into the bowl of ice cream in front of her.

(Break)

She read the essay she had been handed with a furrowed brow, nodding appreciatively as she did so. For one so young, it was excellent work, if he did indeed write it himself.

“It is his work,” Madame Alarie confirmed. “I have checked it in every possible manner. It is even hand-written, and the only spell used was to check his accuracy.”

Olympe hummed.

“As far as having him here, it will be quite the feather in our cap when it is eventually revealed,” she mused aloud, “and he does seem a capable young man.”

Madame Alarie nodded her agreement.

“And…”

“I think it would be good for the Delacours to have a friend here,” Olympe sighed. “Gabrielle has often spoken of her friendship with the boy.”

“Do you think that is why he wishes to come here?”

“I think it is certainly a part of the reason, but the work he has produced is considerable effort, no? He cares about the subject, and his own instructor says he is exceedingly gifted.”

“She does, and I am rather curious. It is said that his mother was quite the excellent student in Charms under Filius Flitwick, and I cannot deny he is eager.”

“Then you will send him an offer?”

“I will. Is there anything you wish for me to include?”

Olympe frowned thoughtfully.

“There might just be, when the time is right.”

(Break)

It had been the strangest, yet, best time of her life, and although they still had the Quidditch World Cup to enjoy, Hermione was not ready for it to end.

“Does the water interfere with your magic?” she asked Gabrielle, who was laying on a sun lounger next to her by the lake.

The Veela nodded.

“We can tolerate it for a little while, but it makes us feel sick and weak if we are in it for too long. I usually manage around thirty minutes before I need to get out. Besides, it’s not so bad just sitting here,” she added with a grin, nodding towards Harry as he made his way towards them.

Hermione felt her cheeks warm up at the insinuation and could only shake her head as Gabrielle giggled.

Aesthetically, Harry was attractive and undoubtedly took care of himself. She had heard the girls she shared a dorm with at Hogwarts pass comment about some of the boys around the school, but Hermione had never been a part of those conversations.

She wasn’t shy, per say, but rather kept her opinions to herself.

“You’re looking a little hot,” Harry commented as he reached them. “Here, have some water.”

He handed her a bottle, and Gabrielle was doing her utmost not to burst out laughing, and smiled as Harry handed her a bar of chocolate from the cooler.

“It helps her with the sickness,” he explained.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes at him.

It was one of the things Hermione had noticed about him. Harry was attentive, caring to those around him, and never allowed anyone to feel left out.

“You’re thinking about flying, aren’t you?” Gabrielle sighed.

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me, Harry Potter.”

He grinned before summoning the impressive broom he owned, but he did not mount it. Instead, he summoned a leather pouch before beginning the process of polishing it.

“Polishing your broom around girls is just rude,” Wendell commented as he joined them.

“Especially when you come to ruin the moment,” Harry returned.

Wendell chuckled amusedly, and Hermione felt her cheeks reddening once more.

“If you wanted some quiet time to think about Sabine, you only need to say.”

“Who’s Sabine?” Hermione asked curiously as Harry glared at Wendell.

“Someone who Harry meets up with thinking no one knows about it.”

“We do not meet up in secret,” Harry denied. “We occasionally bump into each other.”

“Of course,” Wendell snorted.

Harry threw a tub of polish at the laughing boy, shaking his head.

He wasn’t being dishonest, but Hermione could see that he wasn’t telling them everything. Not that it was any of their business, though she was quite curious herself.

“Who’s Sabine?” she repeated.

“Sabine Van Droombeeld,” Wendell gushed mockingly. “Beautiful, intelligent, and for some reason, interested in this jackass,” he added, jerking a thumb in Harry’s direction.

Harry said nothing, but drew his wand, and Wendell knew better than to remain where he was.

He sprinted towards the water, with Harry giving chase.

“Do you know this, Sabine?” Hermione asked Gabrielle.

The Veela was frowning as she shook her head.

“No.”

Hermione fought the urge to smirk.

It was clear to everyone here that Gabrielle had quite the crush on Harry, but Hermione suspected more than one of the others did too. Not that they had said anything, but it was difficult to miss.

“How did you meet Harry?” she asked, changing the subject.

Gabrielle’s expression changed immediately.

“Well, I wrote him a letter,” she answered. “Isabelle met him at school, and he taught her and Marisa how to fly. She visited me during Christmas of their first year, and I wrote him a letter. I didn’t expect him to write back, but he did, and then we met at Isabelle’s birthday party the summer after.”

“Just like that?” Hermione asked.

Gabrielle nodded.

“Harry never stopped writing, and even now, he writes to me a few times a week. He’ll do the same for you, even though he will probably see you at Hogwarts. That’s how you met, isn’t it? We all know he goes there a lot, even though he is trying to keep it a secret.”

Harry had been dismissive of how the two of them had met when the others had asked and had not mentioned his time at Hogwarts once since they’d all arrived.

“Between you and me, Harry did something that no one else would. He stuck up for me when I was being bullied, and then, he arrived at my house a couple of weeks ago and invited me to the World Cup. I didn’t expect it, and I don’t even know why I am here.”

“Because Harry wants you here,” Gabrielle replied. “He is the nicest person I know. I’m a Veela and he doesn’t care. Marisa is a muggleborn, like you, and Wendell is a half-blood, just like him. He met all of them on their first day of school, and even though he and Olivia were sorted into Wampus, and the others split across the other three, they stayed friends.”

Hermione nodded appreciatively.

“And then he met you.”

“And now you,” Gabrielle pointed out. “He’ll make sure you’re okay. I don’t have any friends outside of them, not really, but Harry, well, all of them, write to me when I am at school. You’ll get letters too when you go back to Hogwarts.”

Hermione wasn’t certain, but she had no reason to doubt Gabrielle. Harry had come to her quite unexpectedly over the summer to invite her here, and maybe he would write.

If she was fortunate, the others would too.

Hermione liked them.

Not just because she didn’t have many friends of her own, but because they were all different, interesting in their own ways, but somehow, it worked in their friendship dynamic.

The girls adored both of the boys, and it was the same for them, even if not all of them were aware of just how much they were adored by certain members of the group.

Hermione did not doubt it would all be figured out in the end, but for now, they were just enjoying each other’s company, as they had since they’d started school a few years prior.

“Did Wendell say something stupid again?”

Hermione almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of Mrs Potter’s voice. She had not heard the woman approach.

“He mentioned Sabine,” Gabrielle answered.

Mrs Potter frowned.

“That girl has gotten him in enough trouble,” she sighed, though a smirk of amusement tugged at her lips.

“Two of her brothers,” Gabrielle explained. “They tried to threaten Harry, and, well, you can imagine how that went.”

Lily Potter shook her head.

“Not well for them,” she added. “We will be leaving in thirty minutes, so, you’d best all come in and get ready.”

She left and Hermione looked at Gabrielle questioningly.

“Harry does not like being threatened,” the girl said with a shrug as she stood. “I’ll get the others.”

Despite not being a fan of Quidditch, Hermione was quite looking forward to the final. If the flying was anything like she had seen from Harry, and even Wendell, she did not doubt it would prove to be an event she would ever forget.

Little did she know, however, that it would indeed be cemented in her memory forever, but not for the reason she suspected.