SpideySparrow hogwarts au [5/?] ~ Gryffindor 🦁 @hersilentlanguage
Harry wears red and gold with pride, he loves messing with Jay and draping himself over every couch in sight. He’s got them cosy sweaters, combat boots and dark eyeliner vibes. He doesn’t like many classes but he’s really good in Defence Against The Darkarts class, when he’s not screeching over his patronus being a mongoose that is.
He is always mucking about, especially in class whether it’s enchanting notes to smack the back of Chad’s head or teasing Mal for being good at Herbology. Harry’s constantly making cheeky remarks about the professors and sneaking into the prefects bathroom to cause mischief. When he’s not pranking he’s sitting by the lake, practicing spells and playing with his pet ferret. Evie makes little outfits so Harry can dress him up and they take photographs to send to Harry’s mom.
Harry lives with his mom and he’s such a momma’s boy. She is every bit as fiesty but with a heart of gold and is incredibly protective over her son. Harry brings his friends around a lot and his mom loves all of them, especially when it gives them an excuse to tease Harry relentlessly. His mom tells him a tale of how his father is “lost at sea” but Harry has always known there’s more to the story...
Two posts in one day? And the second way quite so long?? I've outdone myself :D
So everyone, here's some Hinny angst for you! I've never written angst so I know this is not one the best things I've written, but it would mean the world to me if you guys could tell me what I could have done better!
This was an idea I was playing around with sometime, because I wanted some Veritaserum action in a fic, and then Slytherin!Ginny was born :) This is the first time I've written a morally grey character, that too our Gryffindor Ginny. It's quite the contrast haha
Fair warning, there's deceit (think spiked drinks) which goes down in this fic. There's no other specific trigger warnings I can find, but if there's something you guys see, let me know and I'll edit it to show them.
All in all, I hope you're in mood for some angst. If there's anything you want to see written, please do not hesitate from messaging me, and I'll do my best to get it done!
Note- in this one shot, Ginny and Ron are not siblings. Essentially, Ginny is not a Weasley *cue the sacrilege*
-----
Ginny had had enough. The stares from across the room, like molten emeralds shining with loud, unspoken thoughts. The shy touches from when they passed in the hallways together, with their fingers brushing and nerves alighting into a bright golden flame. She had had enough. All this playing around, shying away was now getting to her. Her and Harry had been doing this for the past six months, which led to many almost kisses before he drew away with a slow smirk on his face, sharply contrasted to the apprehension evident in liquid jade eyes. Was she not being obvious enough? She always leant in, always held his stare and bit her lip in the most inviting manner she could think of. All in all, she was sure she was being the most obvious person on the face of the planet, then why did that apprehension not leave those magnificent eyes of his?
She was a 120% sure that Harry James Potter was arse over tit in love with her, and if that made her a narcissist, so be it then. She fully reciprocated these feelings by the way, and was currently sat in the empty common room, stewing over ideas of how to get the confession out.
Her potions textbook remained open in front of her from when she was doing her homework, the page open on the Draught of Living Death. Her incomplete essay lay limply to the side, having been forgotten in favour of more inviting scenarios involving a man with a lopsided grin and jade eyes. She was all alone in the room having stayed up to complete Potions essay due at lunch tomorrow. But given her current state, even a blind man could tell she was definitely NOT doing Potions.
As she let out a long sigh, a heavy wind blew through the open window, chilling Ginny back into reality. She rubbed her arms with her hands, cursing the dying fireplace. A simple Incendio could alight it again, but she was sat facing away from the fire and it would be too much work to get up and light the fireplace. Instead, she settled for tightly wrapping the moss green and silver scarf around her neck, and focusing back on the essay with a shake of her head.
“Draught of Living Death is often used,” She read slowly from where she had left the words incomplete, chewing the top of the quill. She looked into the textbook, but frowned when she realised the wind had blown the pages to another topic. With a sigh, she leant and grabbed the textbook from where it lay on the table, separated from Ginny by 13 inches of parchment. As she heaved the book onto the front, pushing her parchment away, her eyes fell on what Potion was headlined on the page.
“Veritaserum.” She mumbled, a finger on the edge of the page, paused in the motion of flipping it. She blinked once. Twice. And then her frown eased out as a slow grin made it’s way onto her face. She knew what to do.
----
Having gotten the idea was one thing, but actually brewing it was another. It took a complete 28 days to brew, and it was extremely difficult to get right. They hadn’t done this Potion yet since Ginny was still in sixth year, and Veritaserum was taught in theory to NEWT students only. But she had figured a way out as well- the seventh floor broom closet was the perfect place to brew it. It was unused and actually completely forgotten by students and Filch alike. Ginny had stumbled across the room a few days ago and had pushed it’s existence to the back of her mind. But here it was, as if made for this purpose and this purpose only.
So on the day of the new moon, she got started. Acquiring the ingredients was easy enough. Being a star Potions student, she had access to the Slug Club, where old Slughorn was so busy blowing his own trumpet that it was quite easy to weave him into a story about how Ginny needed the ingredients for ‘research’ and academic purposes only. It took a few tries, but right before she got started Ginny had procured all the ingredients. Whilst she was on the quest for ingredients, Ginny had gotten to reading the recipe over and over again, essentially imprinting it onto her neurons. By the time she was bringing the water to a boil inside the grey cauldron, she could recite the steps off by the heart. Yet her eyes remained focused on the book, as she mentally recited the steps. After water came in one vial of Ptolemy followed by stirring anti clockwise. She did it carefully and with so much precision that even Sluggy would be put to shame. By the time the first part of the recipe was finished, Ginny was very satisfied with the product as she poured the incomplete potion into a glass vial for maturation. It was the exact shade of grey as mentioned in the textbook, and Ginny was a happy woman as she went back to the Slytherin dormitory.
The second part of the recipe simply leaving the bottle to rest in a dark place, only bringing it out on the day of the full moon so that it could absorb the moonlight and reach the finished stage. By the time Ginny was done with this step, the potion looked how it was supposed to look as per the textbook. It was colourless and odourless. According to the book, this recipe made a Veritaserum which was potent for an hour and half, which was enough time to finally get the confession and FINALLY start dating him.
After the brewing, the next complex step was administering it to Harry, but that turned out to be the simplest mission of all- she slipped a few drops in as Harry was talking to Ron, and Ginny watched from the Slytherin table across as Harry happily sipped on the pumpkin juice. She had to corner him before anyone asked any questions to Harry and his sudden frankness made them suspicious. She waited for an opening- Harry was left alone for a few minutes in the hallway after breakfast, as Ron and ran up t the dorm to get his lost books, and Hermione went to the washroom in the meantime.
“Hey Harry, could I speak to you for just a second?” Ginny smiled, approaching him. Harry turned around and smiled back. “Of course you can.” He said, and Ginny walked towards a secluded corner, away from other students.
“So what did you want to talk about?” Harry asked.
“First, could you tell me if you possess a Deathly Hallow?”
Oh yes, she knew all about it. Whispers had been going around Slytherin that there was something passed down to Harry which was one of the famed Hallows- only ever found in fables. Harry’s eyes widened as he looked at Ginny. She stared back, wondering if her potion would work or not. This was not the best trial question, but asking about something obvious would be confounding. Pushing away the sudden heaviness in her stomach as she inhaled Harry’s troubled expression, she took an inaudible breath.
“The Invisibility Cloak is with me. It was my father’s.” He spoke with great difficulty, as his handsome features contorted into a frown. It was clear that he was trying to suppress this fact, but looks like the Veritaserum was quite effective. Ginny stepped closer, ignoring the increasing discomfort in her stomach. “And what do you think of me?” She whispered, her mouth close enough to Harry’s. He looked straight into her eyes and without any visible discomfort this time, spoke. “I fancy you. Quite a lot.” As he finished, he let out a breath as if finally released. Ginny frowned- his confession did not uplift her like she thought it would. The space between them stretched and stretched, and despite being only a few inches apart, the realisation in Harry’s eyes put them oceans away. He stepped away, the earlier electrified atmosphere now suddenly limp with tension. Anger, even, Ginny realised.
“You did not slip me Veritaserum, did you?” He said to Ginny, features cool but eyes exhibiting a crescendo of anger.
“I, I,” Ginny stammered, earlier confidence lost towards this cold Harry.
“You what, Ginny?” He said, now his voice slightly wavering.
She looked straight at him, having avoided his eyes all along. She stared into the green depths, pushed the sudden guilt gnawing at her, and spoke, willing her voice too sound as cold as his. Sh was proud when it came out the intended way, shining steel cold, reflecting her house colours. “Yes, yes I did. It was time to get a confession out of you so I did.”
Harry’s eyes widened, before the anger in them was lost, replaced by a hollow look. Somehow, Ginny felt better when he was angry, but this sort of resignation made her feel worse.
Hear yourself, silly girl! You're a Slytherin. She straightened up, willing herself to lose the discomfort weighing her down like rocks.
“And if you’d just asked me, I’d have told you. I would have told you everything I fancied about you. And if you even asked me about the Hallows, I’d have told you that too. I hate deceit and liars, Ginny, and this is nothing less than it. Nor are you any better than those other slimy Slytherins, which I was mistaken about. I hope you’re happy with yourself now.” Harry spoke, his voice a chilling octave. He stormed off and away from Ginny, who suddenly shuddered, falling to her knees in the little alcove.
It was then she let the tears slip, surprising herself with it as well. She inhaled deeply, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Her and Harry seemed irreparable now, no matter what Ginny did. She cried there in the alcove for a few minutes, because she was a heartbroken girl in the end. Except her heartbreak was her own doing- she was responsible for two scarred hearts now. As her tears dried up, Ginny stood back up, rubbed her face and walked away from the alcove, guilt and shame weighing her down, sinking deep in her.
---
And there it is, morally grey Slytherin!Ginny :) I think I like her duality of thinking of spiking drinks and then feeling absolutely like shit when it actually has dire consequences. I might explore more of our beloved characters as morally grey, so let me know if I should or stick to Gryffindor principles :D
Update! Here’s part 2 of Year 2 of “You’re a Gryffindor, Hook” if you need it. You can also read it on AO3. Enjoy!
“Uma! Gil! Over here! We saved you some seats!” Ben waved enthusiastically. He chose to ignore Audrey’s indignant, “Ben! No we didn’t!” and the rude murmurings of some older Gryffindors behind him.
He watched as Uma’s brow furrowed in consideration as she quickly sized him up. The Prince of Gryffindor - a title he honestly loathed but was hard to shrug off when you came from a long line of influential witches and wizards who had all been sorted into Gryffindor for generations - bit his cheek to hold back a chuckle. She always seemed hesitant to accept his offer but it never took her long to make a decision. Ben honestly felt it was all for show, to retain some sort of Slytherin aloofness.
Pulling the hesitant and much larger Hufflepuff behind her with surprising strength, Uma cut through the crowd of Gyrrinfdors between them with sure steps and head held high. She sat in the seat next to Ben with effortless grace, having an edge of regality that even Audrey, with all of her etiquette lessons that her grandmother forced her to attend when they were younger, couldn’t mimic. It was just pure Uma.
Ben only could think of two other people who could move with such assuredness but he knew they both were sitting on the other side of the stadium where the rest of the House of Slytherin and the House of Ravenclaw sat.
“Should we be sitting here?” Gil pulled Ben’s attention away from Uma to the Hufflepuff.
“No!” Audrey leaned over Ben.
“Audrey!” Ben chastised, disappointment for one of his oldest friends apparently evident on his face. Audrey looked away, pouting. Turning back to his other two schoolmates, a flash of concern hit Ben as he watched Gil still stand, almost folded into himself. He hated seeing Gil like that. Hated that he played some role in that...Before he could reassure the taller blonde boy though, Uma was already speaking.
“Aren’t you here to see Harry play?” Uma asked simply, her expression hard to read.
Gil didn’t speak but nodded enthusiastically as if the Slytherin girl has just asked him if he wanted his favorite treat.
“And didn’t you say you wanted to cheer him on with me?”
Another enthusiastic nod.
“Then sit down.”
Ben found himself smiling as Gil immediately sat down, all hesitancy and discomfort wiped from his face as he seemed to bounce in his seat, eyes searching, Ben assumed, for Harry. Though her facial features didn’t change from her typical nonchalant expression, Ben saw Uma squeeze Gil’s arm in silent praise.
Good, he thought to himself. Gil deserved more people who cared in his life.
The rest of the game went on as expected. In the end, it was the Gryffindor stands that loudly roared with pride as Harry made his third goal of the game just as the Gryffindor Seeker found and caught the snitch.
Cheers rang loudly around Ben as the team did a victory lap in the air before landing. The stands quickly spilled out into the field, surrounding the winning team. Everyone gave the team congratulatory pats on the back, some upperclassmen even clapping Harry on the back. But Ben could already tell that Harry wasn’t really paying attention, eyes searching the crowd with an intense gaze that only softened when he saw Gil’s taller frame.
The Prince of Gryffindor found that Harry Hook’s post-game ritual was still fairly predictable despite the addition of Gil sweeping Harry into an almost crushing hug. Ben felt Audrey tugging on his arm irritatedly, probably further annoyed by the objects of his attention, but the scene that played out never seemed to not intrigue Ben. Harry stepped away from Gil, giving the blonde a friendly shove before running his hands through his wind-swept dark hair. And then like a magnet, his eyes snapped to where Uma stood, and it was like everyone around them was blocked out by a bubble that surrounded just the two as Harry reached for her hand, kissing the back of it with a smirk and a wink.
Ben smiled, turning away and letting Audrey pull him away to congratulate Herkie, one of the Gryffindor Beaters.
---
“You don’t have to be so damn stubborn lass. Ol’ Smee has practically adopted ye. No need to be portkeyed away to a complete bunch of strangers for the summer.”
Though this scene had played out for the last few weeks since they had first started discussing their plans for the summer before their fourth year, Gil still looked up from his spot on the floor of one of the Hogwarts Express’s compartments that they had commandeered for themselves. He had been doodling in his journal - sketches of different plants, wizard and muggle alike, mixed in with half-drawn sketches of a certain Gryffindor quidditch chaser flying on his broomstick with windswept hair or a girl with braids daydreaming over potions work - back pressed against one of Uma’s legs as the other one was folded underneath her, hands distractedly making little braids in his long hair. He couldn’t see the expression on her face but the unintentional harsh tug on his hair, followed immediately by an apologetic pat on Gil’s shoulder told him she was annoyed with having to have this conversation again.
“Smee doesn’t need another head to worry about. Plus the Jolly Roger is too small of a houseboat as is with you, your sisters, the twins, Sammy, and Smee. Any more people and the boat would probably sink,” Uma sighed, barely hidden irritation in her tone.
“How dare you question the integrity of a beautiful ship like my darling Jolly Roger?” Harry snorted as he adjusted his position taking up all of the seats on the other side of the compartment. “And it’s not like you haven’t spent a summer with us before with how your ma is.”
Gil frowned. He knew about Harry’s sisters and the Smees. He knew about Harry’s dad even though the boy himself never seemed to talk about him, at least not when Gil was around. But Uma’s family...Gil knew she had a mother, and apparently an aunt and uncle that she had met once when she was much younger and was apparently spending the summer with, but everything else he knew was based on observations or what Harry and Uma didn’t say. Gil never pushed for answers though content to just wait for them to tell him when they were ready. He figured also he would probably say the wrong thing. Though both Uma and Harry had made it clear in their own individual and collective ways that Gil was a member of their crew ( “What? Haven’t heard the rumor that the only reason why a Gryffindor and Slytherin would willingly hang out with each other is because they’re both pirates, Gilly?”) Gil still had moments where he could understand the confusion that everyone wore when they saw the three of them walk down the halls of Hogwarts together.
“Harry, enough. I’ve already made my decision,” Gil could feel the growl in her words vibrate down her leg and into his back. “You’re not changing my mind,” she said, effectively ending the conversation.
Uncertainty leaking into his action, Gil blindly reached back, placing his hand over Uma’s, giving her much smaller hand a gentle squeeze. It must have been the right thing to do because the broken-off foot of a chocolate frog was pressed against his lips from the girl behind him, his lips opening without hesitation at the rare gift. (Uma loved chocolate frogs and was notoriously known for being bad at willingly sharing them with anyone, even Harry.)
Gil glanced up at Harry as he chewed and swallowed the treat. Harry pouted and rolled off the seat that he had been sprawled along for the majority of the trip. The journal that Gil had been doodling in was gently removed from his hands, being replaced with the head of one still pouting Gryffindor. Gil didn’t blink. It hadn’t taken very long into his friendship to realize that Harry Hook, infamously known as the snake amongst lions, was a very tactile person and was always seeking some form of a physical connection with the few he allowed into his circle. Playing with Uma’s braids when his gaze turned far away. A casual arm thrown with little thought around both Gil’s and Uma’s shoulders after a Gryffindor match. Leaning against Gil in moments when the dark-haired boy got so quiet that sometimes even Uma had difficulties getting him to speak...
With Uma at his back now combing distracted fingers through his hair and Harry flipping through Gil’s sketches, a comforting warmth settled in Gil, distracting him from the conversation the other two were currently having without need for any of his input. He still felt unsure in how he fits into their dynamic, still not clear on why they even included him, but Gil, as always, decided not to worry, content in feeling the lulling drag of Uma’s fingers through his hair and the scent of broom polish and leather that clung to Harry. Closing his eyes, he tried to memorize this moment, wishing briefly that he had his journal to sketch this moment to hold him through the long summer months without them.
The prodding of something just to the side of his mouth brought Gil’s eyes open. He looked down to see a worried frown on Harry’s face as he looked up at him, still lightly jabbing the end of a sugar quill at the Hufflepuff’s face.
“What’s going on in that blonde little head of yours Gilly?” Gil blinked, before biting off a piece of the sweet and sour candy.
And because Gil was Gil he said honestly and without hesitation: “I’m going to miss you both.”
Uma tapped his back, motioning for him to lean forward as she moved from behind him. It took a few seconds of shifting around but Gil eventually found himself sitting on the floor between his two friends, Uma’s back against the wall with her legs tossed over his lap and Harry squished against the door with his arm thrown on the seat behind Gil’s head, playing with one of the braids that Uma had done in Gil’s hair.
“You’re talking like we won’t be owling each other every other day,” Uma snorted with a roll of her eyes that didn’t do much to hide the fondness in them. “I swear that by the time school starts back up you’ll be tired of reading the pages long poems that Harry calls letters.”
“Epic tales, lass,” Harry leaned further into Gil to reach and tug at one of her braids in a teasing reprimand. “And both of ye should be honored to read such masterpieces.”
Uma adjusted herself so that she could kick at Harry but he caught her foot and began tickling it, peals of startled laughter filling the train compartment. And Gil, crowded in the middle on both sides by these two felt the last drags of his uncertainty fall away as for the first time in a long time, he knew where he belonged.
When it was time for them to go their separate ways at the station, Gil could only grin when Uma pulled him into a tight hug despite her much smaller size.
“Keep in touch, okay?” Uma murmured into his neck before releasing him only for Harry to grab his face and place an unnecessarily wet kiss right in the middle of Gil’s forehead, fondly ruffling the blonde’s hair with a mischievous giggle.
“Don’t miss my beautiful face too much, Gilly.”
Gil chuckled. “No promises,” he said, pulling both of them to him for one last group hug before they parted for the summer.
Gil watched as Harry made his way through the crowds towards a young woman dressed in dull Ministry robes, her familiar sharp facial features despite her much darker complexion indicating to Gil that this was probably Harriet Hook. Harry made a comment that made her roll her eyes but Gil could tell that despite her look of annoyance, she was happy to see her brother again before pulling him towards the nearest apparition point. Uma was headed towards where the international portkeys departed, Gil watching the back of her small but commanding frame until she was out of sight.
“I hope you three keep in touch over the summer, Gil,” a familiar voice said behind him.
Gil smiled, turning to face Ben. “We will,” he replied with confidence.
Ben returned his smile. “Good. Ready to head home?” he asked tilting his head to where they both could see Mrs. Potts and her son Chip - a former Hufflepuff who had graduated several years before they had even started at Hogwarts - right next to her. Chip waved, at them, turning to let his mother know he had spotted them.
Gil only nodded, following after Ben, feeling much like he was leaving home, instead of returning.
“You don’t have to be so damn stubborn lass. Ol’ Smee has practically adopted ye. No need to be portkeyed away to a complete bunch of strangers for the summer.”
Though this scene had played out for the last few weeks since they had first started discussing their plans for the summer before their fourth year, Gil still looked up from his spot on the floor of one of the Hogwarts Express’s compartments that they had commandeered for themselves. He had been doodling in his journal - sketches of different plants, wizard and muggle alike, mixed in with half-drawn sketches of a certain Gryffindor quidditch chaser flying on his broomstick with windswept hair or a girl with braids daydreaming over potions work - back pressed against one of Uma’s legs as the other one was folded underneath her, hands distractedly making little braids in his long hair. He couldn’t see the expression on her face but the unintentional harsh tug on his hair, followed immediately by an apologetic pat on Gil’s shoulder told him she was annoyed with having to have this conversation again.
“Smee doesn’t need another head to worry about. Plus the Jolly Roger is too small of a house boat as is with you, your sisters, the twins, Sammy, and Smee. Any more people and the boat would probably sink,” Uma sighed, barely hidden irritation in her tone.
“How dare you question the integrity of a beautiful ship like my darling Jolly Roger?” Harry snorted as he adjusted his position taking up all of the seats on the other side of the compartment. “And it’s not like you haven’t spent a summer with us before with how your ma is.”
Gil frowned. He knew about Harry’s sisters and the Smees. He knew about Harry’s dad even though the boy himself never seemed to talk about him, at least not when Gil was around. But Uma’s family...Gil knew she had a mother, and apparently an aunt and uncle that she had met once when she was much younger and was apparently spending the summer with, but everything else he knew was based on observations or what Harry and Uma didn’t say. Gil never pushed for answers though content to just wait for them to tell him when they were ready. He figured also he would probably say the wrong thing. Though both Uma and Harry had made it clear in their own individual and collective ways that Gil was a member of their crew (“What? Haven’t heard the rumor that the only reason why a Gryffindor and Slytherin would willingly hang out with each other is because they’re both pirates, Gilly?”) Gil still had moments where he could understand the confusion that everyone wore when they saw the three of them walk down the halls of Hogwarts together.
“Enough. I’ve already made my decision,” Gil could feel the growl in her words vibrate down her leg and into his back. “You’re not changing my mind, Hook,” she said, effectively ending the conversation.
Uncertainty leaking into his action, Gil blindly reached back, placing his hand over Uma’s, giving her much smaller hand a gentle squeeze. It must have been the right thing to do because the broken off foot of a chocolate frog was pressed against his lips from the girl behind him, his lips opening without hesitation at the rare gift. (Uma loved chocolate frogs and was notoriously known for being bad at willingly sharing them with anyone, even Harry.)
Gil glanced up at Harry as he chewed and swallowed the treat. Harry pouted and rolled off the seat that he had been sprawled along for the majority of the trip. The journal that Gil had been doodling in was gently removed from his hands, being replaced with the head of one still pouting Gryffindor. Gil didn’t blink. It hadn’t taken very long into his friendship to realize that Harry Hook, infamously known as the snake amongst lions, was a very tactile person and was all seeking some form of physical connection. Playing with Uma’s braids when his gaze turned far away. A casual arm thrown with little thought around both Gil’s and Uma’s shoulders after a Gryffindor match. Leaning against Gil in moments when the boy got so quiet that sometimes even Uma had difficulties getting him to speak.
With Uma at his back now combing distracted fingers through his hair and Harry flipping through Gil’s sketches, a comforting warmth settled in Gil, distracting him from the conversation the other two were currently having without need for any of his input. He still felt unsure in how he fit into their dynamic, still not clear on why they even included him, but Gil, as always, decided not to worry, content in feeling the lulling drag of Uma’s fingers through his hair and the scent of broom polish and leather that clung to Harry. Closing his eyes, he tried to memorize this moment, wishing briefly that he had his journal to sketch this moment to hold him through the long summer months without them.
The prodding of something just to the side of his mouth brought Gil’s eyes open. He looked down to see a worried frown on Harry’s face as he looked up at him, still lightly jabbing the end of a sugar quill at the Hufflepuff’s face.
“What’s going on in that blonde little head of yours Gilly?” Gil blinked, before biting off a piece of the sweet and sour candy.
And because Gil was Gil he said honestly and without hesitation: “I’m going to miss you both.”
Uma tapped his back, motioning for him to lean forward as she moved from behind him. It took a few seconds of shifting around but Gil eventually found himself sitting on the floor between his two friends, Uma’s back against the wall with her legs tossed over his lap and Harry squished against the door with his arm thrown on the seat behind Gil’s head, playing with one of the braids that Uma had done in Gil’s hair.
“You’re talking like we won’t be owling each other every other day,” Uma snorted with a roll of her eyes that didn’t do much to hide the fondness in them. “I swear that by the time school starts back up you’ll be tired of reading the pages long poems that Harry calls letters.”
“Epic tales, lass,” Harry leaned further into Gil to reach and tug at one of her braids in a teasing reprimand. “And both of ye should be honored to read such masterpieces.”
Uma adjusted herself so that she could kick at Harry but he caught her foot and began tickling it, peals of startled laughter filling the train compartment. And Gil, crowded in the middle on both sides by these two felt the last whispers of his uncertainty fall away as for the first time in a long time, he knew where he belonged.
Finally got around to updating this! Here’s part 1 of Year 2 of “You’re a Gryffindor, Hook” . You can also read it on AO3. Enjoy!
Harry paused in the doorway, eyes narrowed at the sight of a familiar head of black and white. “What are you doing here, DeVil?”
He took some pleasure in the way the small first year Ravenclaw jumped, looking like a startled pup. “Detention. Same as you I’m guessing,” Carlos frowned, going from startled to cautious in the blink of an eye, watching Harry wearily.
“Now why would a wee pup like you ye be in detention? Get caught reading one of yer fancy books after curfew?” Harry mockingly pouted.
Carlos moved aside an old chest of broken broom parts between them so nonchalantly that Harry almost believed that the boy wasn’t shaking in his scuffed boots at the sight of him. Afterall, it wasn’t that many years ago that Harry, thanks to some accidental magic, turned one of the younger boy’s book into a barking little mutt that had the youngest DeVil hiding out in a tree at one of Madame Mim’s many granddaughters’ birthday. (In Harry’s defense, as he told a furious Harriet later, it was the younger boy’s fault. Who did Carlos DeVil think he was, with his baby cheeks and freckles taking away the attention of Harry’s best friend at one of these dull parties to “ooo” and “ah” over the mechanics of some stupid little muggle music box in Mim’s parlor?)
“I was late for class,” a bright flush covered the younger boy’s cheeks.
Harry snorted, rolling his eyes. That was a bald face lie. But Harry wasn’t in the mood to pursue that thought. Seven seas, he just wanted to go out and fly around on his broom to get the pent up tension that coiled in his body tightly out.
“You look horrible,” the Ravenclaw commented when Harry stepped more into the room, a large bruise on his left cheek that was already starting to turn. “Who did you get into a fight over Uma with this time?”
“Aw. Didn’t know ye cared, pup,” Harry smirked, leaning into the other’s boy space.
Carlos shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t,” he shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other, rubbing his arm. Harry raised, a brow, puzzled over the boy’s sudden switch to shyness, unable to look in his direction as an even deeper blush began to paint his freckled cheeks.
Before Harry could comment further, Uma stormed into the room with the presence of a hurricane. Harry didn’t even realize how he shifted to give her his full attention. Her eyes took in Carlos for a moment before Harry found himself at the end of a glare that, if it was possible, would have had him petrified ten times over. It made a fond grin grace his lips.
“Out DeVil,” she said, not breaking her glare. “I’ll make sure he covers your punishment.”
Carlos nodded as if Uma had presented him a second chance at life. “Uh. Yeah. I’ll, uh...see ya in History of Magic.” And then he was gone.
“What, in Poseidon’s name, did you think you were doing, Hook?” she snarled, her whole body wound tight as if to snap at the drop of a wand.
Harry opened his mouth, an undoubtedly smart (and if he dare say, witty) remark snatched from his tongue as he released a startled painful howl. He reached back to cover where her stinging hex had landed before she could get another strike in.
“Careful! I bruise easily, lass!”
“Oh shut it!” Uma growled, already raising her wand to throw another hex at him. “You. Weren’t. Thinking! Again! Are you trying to throw away all of your hard work and get kicked off the quidditch team? Huh? I thought you wanted to go pro! HUH? Are you gonna answer me Hook?” she asked, emphasizing each question with another hex.
Biting his lip against the pain, Harry couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping. “Well yer not really giving me much space to talk, lass.”
That was the wrong thing to say. He knew it was the wrong thing to say but he couldn’t help the excited little giggle that managed to escape his lips when Uma’s braids began moving with her anger as if they were in water. The smart thing to do would have been to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness. Instead he reached out and took her hand, hers so much smaller in his.
“They were talking about me Da,” he sighed, his playful facade wiped away with the last word.
Uma paused, hair and body frozen before turning quickly on her heel.
“I’m gonna fucking kill them.”
Harry sighed, tugging her back with the hand that he was still holding. The corner of his lips twitched upwards at the pout on her face. She always made that face in the rare occasions that he had to stop her from getting into a fight.
“Then you’ll get in trouble and we can’t have Miss Top of Her Class ruin her chances of being Head Girl,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze before letting go. “Besides, I think those upperclassmen Gryffindors got the message to be more careful with what they say.”
Uma snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah because you threatened them with a freaking hook! How the hell did you even get that through the wards Professor Godmother made last year after you were waving it around?”
Leaning forward into her personal space, cheshire grin growing wider when she didn’t move back but merely raised a brow at his antics. “Tis an old pirate secret, lass. Maybe I’ll tell you after our wedding.”
Tossing her braids over her shoulder, Uma spun on her heel again to exit. “Who said I wanted to marry you?” she stuck her tongue out at him, falling into their usual, much safer teasing before leaving.
“That wasn’t a no!” Harry yelled after her retreating back, receiving a few stares from a few Ravenclaws who had been passing by. “What?” he asked them. “Want an invite to the wedding?”
They looked at him, shocked before quickly making their way to wherever they were going, Harry swearing he heard one of them say something not so polite about outdated pureblood traditions. Harry ignored them.
Instead, the grin he wore slipped off, and he found himself leaning against the wall and sliding down to the floor, pulling at his hair.
“Heard your father went crazy and tried to kill muggleborn sons.”
“I heard that the Aurors who found him didn’t know whether they should take him to Azkaban or the mind ward at St. Mungo’s because he was that out of his bloody mind.”
“You going to saw off your own hand too like him?”
“Are you going to be obsessed over that little Slytherin witch of yours like he was over that boy that he killed? Huh? Are you? Are you!”
“Harry. Listen to me. You need to breathe,” he was commanded and like someone had switched on the “On” switch, Harry inhaled, taking in a large breath of air. He was instructed to do it several more times until his breathing was even again.
How long ago had it been since his last panic attack? The muggle-born mind healer, that Mr. Smee had forced Harry and his sisters to go after moving in with the jovial man, had told him stress could trigger these attacks. Thinking about James Hook was very stressful.
Harry looked up, startled to see the brown hair and the always too kind brown eyes of his housemate, Ben. “What are you doing here?” he growled, though panic attacks were always tiring so it sounded more like a pout.
“I heard about what happened the other day,” Ben explained. Though it didn’t really explain much to Harry. The “Prince of Gryffindor” with his too kind smiles and too friendly demeanor always set Harry on edge.
“And lookey!” Harry snipped. “Yer right on time for the after show. What were you expectin’, lad? A bunch of laughs?” He attempted to push himself to his feet. Ben reached out to help but withdrew due to Harry’s weak glare.
“I didn’t-”
“Don’t,” Harry cut him off. “Take yer goody-two shoe act and save it for someone who gives a rats ass. And if I hear a word of what you just saw being gossip about,” Harry threatened, crowding into his housemates personal space, the air around them ripe with Harry’s rage. “I’ll hook ya and feed you to the giant squid myself!”
He expected the boy to be scared. Maybe even cry for his mommy. But Ben just looked at him with what Harry saw as pity before shaking his head and began walking away.
Before he left Harry watched as he left the room though, he turned around and said, “I know you have Uma, but it doesn’t just have to be you two against the world,” before continuing walking.
Harry fumed quietly. The teasing mood that he had had with Uma gone. Only when he was sure that he wasn once again alone, Harry quickly reached for an empty glass bottle that was on a shelf next to him and threw it at the wall with a frustrated roar.
He breathed heavily, running his hands through his hair, once, twice, three times before straightening, taking a deep breath as he took out his wand. With a well practiced swoop and a flick, the smashed bottle was whole again and back on the shelf.
No point making even a bigger mess, Harry thought. His life was a mess enough...
—-
A few weeks later, Harry waited exactly ten minutes before he was sure that old Professor Porter was actually well off to the land of dreams before deciding to ditch another detention. He got up with a lazy stretch, swiping his things into his satchel with a careless ease that couldn’t be practiced. He paused at the door to the classroom, glancing over his shoulder expectantly.
“You coming, lad?”
The blonde Hufflepuff looked surprised. Seven seas, even Harry was surprised though he acted with his usual devil may care attitude. He watched as the Hufflepuff looked around the otherwise empty classroom before pointing to himself with the most stunned look on his face. “Are you, are you talking to me?” he asked uncertainly.
The Gyrffindor huffed dramatically. A voice that sounded a lot like Uma’s reminded him to be patient. “Ye see anyone else here in detention with us? Yes! Of course you!” The blonde paused, still unsure. “NOW!” Harry hissed before both boys froze as Professor Porter snorted in his sleep. The old man’s big white mustache wiggled on his face as he curled further into the large armchair that he liked to lecture from at the front of the room. Once the sounds of uninterrupted snoring continued, both boys let out relieved sighs.
The blonde quietly got up with his things and made his way towards Harry. The dark haired wizard did a double take, having severely underestimated how hulking the Hufflepuff was. “Won’t we get in more trouble?”
“First time in detention with Porter?” Harry asked, already walking out the room. He wasn’t even sure what the seven seas he was doing. Harriet always said impulse control was one of his weaker points. That he didn’t think things through and acted on instinct too much. But instinct was what led him to befriend a girl with the force of ten storms in her small body when she forced him to share his chocolate frog with her on his own birthday. And instinct was what led him to be interested in the towering blonde Hufflepuff who always seemed to want to curl into himself and who had whispers of someone else’s dark legacy trailing after him. Professor Godmother had said once to Harry that like minded souls called out to each other (though he’s pretty sure that when she said that, after he had got caught trying to sneak into the Slytherin common room, it hadn’t been a good thing.)
But there was no chance to pause and over analyze instincts and motives. Harry didn’t even pause, already knowing the other boy was following. He only paused when his stomach growled loudly. “Wonder if Uma saved me something from dinner,” he thought aloud before frowning. Probably not. She had not been happy when his little prank on Chad Charming’s potion in class had backfired and exploded onto everything and everyone within its radius, including Uma.
Harry definitely wasn’t looking forward to the howler that Harriet was going to send once Uma tattled on him. Bloody girls and their damn girl code. What happened to blood being thick? What happened to loyalty? Merlin, Uma was pissed when that foul smelling potion got into her hair. Harry was sorry. Truly, he was. Well at least in regards to Uma. No one was supposed to get hurt, least of all Uma. She had to know that...right? Right. They were best friends. She couldn’t stay mad at him for too long. (He hoped…He didn’t know what he’d do without her...)
“Are you hungry? I know where we can get some food even though dinner is over,” the Hufflepuff eagerly shared, pulling Harry out of his thoughts.
A loud growl came from Harry’s stomach again, making the boy’s decision for him.
“Lead the way,” Harry said sweeping into an over exaggerated bow before pausing, turning to the blonde with a thoughtful look. “What’s your name, mate?”
He knew he should know. Uma would know. But it was only because Rick Ratcliffe had taunted the boy mercilessly asking about someone named Gaston who was in Azkaban that Harry’s instinct had led him to punching the the snot nosed poser in the face, just as Professor Merryweather had been rounding the corner. Ratcliffe had cried like a baby and both Harry and the unfortunate Hufflepuff had landed in detention.
Harry was given a long name that sounded French like that goody Prince of Gryffindor’s. The thought of his housemate must have made a nasty scowl find its way on his face because the other boy began to shrink even further in himself. Quite a feat since the Hufflepuff looked like he could easily wrestle a basilisk. Harry tried to smooth out his features. He didn’t want to scare the other boy with his temper after all.
Harry frowned. “Gilly?” he asked catching on to something about a nickname.
“Oh!” the Hufflepuff blushed. “Uh, it’s really just something my mom called me. Gillyweed. I’m...uh...a really good swimmer?” he questioned more than stated as he rubbed the back of his neck. “And fish have, you know, gils. My friends call me Gil. Well, one of them does. My only one actually,” the boy said, looking like ol’ Tic-Toc did when Ettie had accidentally thrown away the reptilian familiar’s favorite chew toy.
“Oh, Davy Jones,” Harry sighed, something that felt strangely like a damn conscious twisting inside.
The next day during breakfast, Uma plopped herself across at the Gryffindor table across from Harry, like she usually did, hair unbraided and brushed into a poof on the top of her head, no longer smelling like shrimp and no longer looking like she would ring his neck. Tension released from his shoulders that he hadn’t even been aware that he was holding until she reached over to stab her fork into a piece of crepe on his plate. Just like she did with his food every morning despite the plate of fresh crepes right in front of her.
“When did they start making crepes for breakfast?” she asked before again bypassing the plate of delicious looking crepes that was for anyone at the table to take to take another piece from Harry’s plate.
“Gil is on friendly terms with the house elves in the kitchens,” Harry explained reaching over to take a sip of the juice that Uma had poured for herself.
Uma turned towards the Hufflepuff sitting next to Harry who looked terrified to be the focus of her attention. “Gil?” she raised a brow, Harry knowing she was confused because that was obviously not the name she knew him by.
“Gil is what friends can call him,” Harry explained in the other boy’s stead who was turning red under Uma’s heavy gaze.
She was quiet for a second before blinking and stabbing some of the Hufflepuff's crepes. “Gil’s a good name,” she said simply. “It reminds me of gillyweed. I think the last Triwizard Tournament winner used it for one of the challenges.”
For a moment, Gil looked dazed before smiling brightly, before launching into a very enthusiastic description of the properties and uses of gillyweed and other aquatic plants. Every now and then, Uma would comment and Gil would pause, listening intently like she was telling him the secrets of the universe. (It was a look that Harry was very used to wearing in her presence.)
And when Gil reached over, without hesitating with his own fork to take some of Harry's, and then Uma’s, eggs, the reluctant Gryffindor supposed he was okay if he had just one more person fighting against the world with him.
Chaos: when the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future. One gene varies, one neuron fires, one butterfly flaps its wings, and Draco Malfoy's life is completely different. Draco has always found a certain comfort in chaos. Perhaps he shouldn't.
