The Transfer

Ch8 Tryouts

Disclaimer: no money being made, not my stuff.

Ah, the reviews are starting to turn… I thought that might happen. I guess things are too slow moving, not enough H/HR, to stu-y… whatever the reason, I can't say I didn't see it coming. As I have said before, I have had this written for a long time and am posting things that I originally wrote close to a year ago now. Not to say that's an excuse, I just mean that I haven't rewritten anything based on criticism. To those of you who enjoy the story for what it is, thank you for your kind words and I hope you'll be aboard for the whole trip. So without further ado…

The next morning I woke to the sunlight shining through a crack in the curtains of my bed. I tried to roll over and return to the wonderful dream about the sash of Hermione's robe I was having, but it was no use now. I was awake.

I pulled back the curtain and to my horror realized that I was the only one left in the room. All the others had already dressed and left.

Not knowing the time, I jumped out of bed, threw on my Lakers sweatshirt and pants and ran a comb through my usually slicked back hair. A few moments later, I was ducking out the common room passageway and heading down to the great hall for breakfast.

I looked out a window as I went and saw the air over the Quidditch pitch was empty, and I sighed in relief that I hadn't overslept too much.

Ron, Hermione and Harry were eating breakfast when I arrived in the great hall. I sat down with them and heard Harry say, “I dunno why the teams this popular all of a sudden.”

“Oh, come on Harry,” said Hermione impatiently. “It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable.”

Ron gagged on whatever he was eating and Harry colored more deeply than I had ever seen. Hermione wasn't done though, she went on one of her sermons about how Harry had endured so much and gone through such pain and humiliation, but through it all, he had never wavered in his story or his determination for the truth to be known. I would have found it inspiring if it hadn't made me so jealous.

Ron tried to get her attention by pointing out an injury he had received while helping Harry endure said pain and humiliation, but Hermione ignored him.

Harry just sat there, like a bump on a log and didn't say anything back to her. I waited a moment and was about to say, “Well, I guess we know who Hermione finds fanciable now, don't we?” but before I could, Hermione seemed to notice I had sat down and said, “Good morning, sleepyhead. Did you have a nice lie in? We were wondering when you'd get up.”

I was glad that she was still speaking to me after my foiled attempt to kiss her the night before.

“Sorry, “I replied and then gave her a serious look and said, “Long night.”

“Oh,” she replied and hid her face behind the curtain of wavy hair that she was wearing long and down today.

We all sat in silence for a moment and then the post owls came through an open window, drops of water from the inclement weather outside falling from their feathers.

“Aw crap,” I said out loud.

“What's wrong, Vinny?”

“I haven't written my parents since I got here.”

My father is going to kill me.

Sure enough, as Hermione's Daily Prophet fell in front of her, a small barn owl landed on the table before me and extended its leg. I reached for the rolled parchment, my face contorted stressfully as I wasn't sure if Dad would send me a howler or not.

As I opened the letter, however, it was clear that it wasn't a howler. News on the home front wasn't good though. Mom seemed to think that Dad wasn't doing too well at the Ministry. She didn't say that she thought he was going to be fired, but she implied that we might be back home in L.A. for summer.

“Hold on there speedy,” I said to the owl as he started to take off, hitting him with a Petrificus Totalus and asked Hermione if she had a quill on her.

“Sorry Vinny. I left them all upstairs.”

“Never mind,” I replied, forgetting I knew how to transfigure a spoon into a quill. I used blueberry from a nearby pancake as ink and wrote a short reply saying all was fine at school, and if she found out anything definite about Dad getting let go, to let me know as soon as possible.

I tied the message to the frozen owls leg and then tapped him with my wand and said, “Take this back right away, all right?” I tossed him a piece of bacon and watched as he took off.

While I had been writing, the others had been talking about Harry's Potion's book, a topic of heated discussions lately. Harry had ordered a new copy, which arrived that morning, but he only used it to replace the well-worn cover of his original book and then returned it to his bag.

Hermione was livid. It was strange that in such a short period of time she had gone from finding him `fanciable' to not wanting to look at him from behind her copy of the Prophet. It gave me hope that maybe Ginny was right; she loved him but wasn't in love with him.

“So, kind of a crap day for flying, huh Harry?” I said, as Hermione remained hidden across the table.

Harry and Ron looked at me with surprise, undoubtedly due to the fact that this was the first time I had ever started a conversation about Quidditch.

“Are you trying out too?” asked Harry

“Yeah, Ginny talked me into it last night.”

“Ginny?” said Ron, putting down his fork and knife and giving me his full attention. “When were you talking to Ginny? Wait, was that why you had a long night last night!”

I wanted to laugh, partly because Ron was so overprotective of a sister that was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but also because, while I couldn't admit it, he was partially right. Ginny had been part of my long night.

“She was with Dean and Seamus when she talked to me about it, Knucklehead. Don't get excited.”

He huffed and went back to his food, apparently not thinking Dean's company was any better for Ginny than mine.

“So what position are you going to try for, Vin?” asked Harry, trying to get us back on the topic of Quidditch.

“Well, I was a Beater back when I was playing. I think I should stick with what I know.”

Harry's face lit up. “Oh that's brilliant! I'm most worried about that position since Fred and George left. Every other spot has a known player at least trying out for it, but Beater is wide open.”

“Fred and George are my brothers, so you know,” said Ron before I could ask.

I smiled at them and said meekly, “Well, like I've tried to tell you guys, I don't think I am going to be all that impressive. I haven't played a game in --,” I counted on my fingers as I thought back over the years, “Jeez, has it really been four years?”

“What? Four years? I'd of gone mental!” shouted Ron.

“You still might have,” muttered Hermione from behind the Prophet, “The jury's still out on that one.”

We left the table a little while later as the time for tryouts to begin fast approached. Harry and Hermione walked ahead as Ron went down the list of players I would be competing against and told me which ones were any good and which ones sucked. Or as he put it, were `rubbish'.

We came upon Parvati and her curly blonde friend as we walked down the hall and I noticed that, as hard as Parvati tried not to stare at me, her friend did the same to Ron. Ron noticed this too and as we passed them, I watched as his walk took on a pimp-limp of sorts and chuckled to myself.

“What's so funny?”

“Nothing, man. Sorry.”

He turned to catch up with Harry and Hermione, but I had a sudden shock of inspiration and put my arm around his shoulder, turning him back towards the two girls.

“What are you doing?” he said, struggling to get loose. We were both tall, but where he was tall and skinny, I was tall and strong. “Come on, man,” I said to him quietly, “We're going to earn you some points.” I remembered what Ginny had said about Ron's large fan club. It was time to see if we could appoint a club captain

I called over my shoulder for Harry and Hermione to go on without us, which caused Hermione to shoot me a puzzled look, but the two of them set off for the pitch together.

We approached the two girls, still sitting in a small alcove in the passageway and I released Ron from my grip on his shoulder.

“Good morning ladies,” I began in a genial voice, “I couldn't help but notice the two of you as we passed by a moment ago, and my friend Ron here was kind enough to offer to introduce me to you.”

Parvati looked up at me, then away, then back at me again and smiled. Her friend was looking at Ron in approximately the same manner. I nudged Ron as the silent moment stretched on.

“Oh - right sorry. Vinny, this is Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.”

I extended a hand to Parvati, she had skin like silk, though her grip wasn't much firmer.

“Parvati? That's a lovely name, Indian isn't it?”

Her skin was a chocolate color, too dark to really blush, but I could tell by her reaction that she was simultaneously horrified and thrilled that I was talking to her at all, let alone paying her compliments.

She put her hands over her mouth, suppressing a giggle and said, “Yes, my parents are from Bangalore.”

“Oh, that's cool, you still have family there?”

I looked over at Ron and saw he was talking to Lavender about that same scar on his wrist that he had tried to show Hermione earlier. Lavender looked like she was falling for it hook, line and sinker; she was holding his hand out in front of her to have a better look at the injury.

Atta boy, I thought to myself.

I turned back to Parvati, who was saying something about her Aunt or Nephew or something -- and said, “Yeah that's great. I would love to go there someday to see the sights.”

Her face brightened and she said, “Oh, well just let me know when! I could show you around--,” and she continued on about her family and how rich they were back in India and how her parents had only come to England so that she and her sister could go to Hogwarts or-- something like that. I wasn't really listening.

Now, there wasn't anything wrong with Parvati, quite the contrary, she was lovely and she had a twin sister, which, in a perverted kind of way, is hot in itself. I mean, what guy hasn't gone down that road in his private thoughts once or twice? No, the problem with Parvati, was that she wasn't Hermione.

At the next lull in conversation I suggested we head out to the pitch, as time was getting short and Ron and myself, I announced proudly, were both trying out for the team. We stepped out in front of the stands and Lavender said, “I'm sure you'll make it Ron. You were brilliant last year!”

Ron ducked his head and kicked at the turf shyly, “Thanks.”

Parvati, feeling obliged to say something at this point, turned to me and to my surprise, planted a polite kiss on my cheek saying, “Good luck, Vinny.” Lavender, not to be outdone, followed suite and kissed Ron's cheek and said something to him in his ear that caused him to blush. Then the girls trotted off to the stands and Ron and I were left looking at each other with surprised expressions.

“Well,” he said breathlessly, “That went well didn't it?”

“Yeah, not bad,“ I chuckled, watching Parvati climb the stairs and hoping she would sit next to her sister, ”You better make the team after encouragement like that!”

He laughed, touching his face where Lavender had kissed him and then asked me, “Wait Vinny, I thought you said you didn't fancy Parvati?”

“I don't.” I said, starting towards the other Gryffindors waiting to try out.

“Then, what was that all about?”

“That Ron, “ I replied, searching through the school brooms for the least damaged one, “Is called taking one for the team.”

“Oh,” he said, grabbing the broom I was considering and handing it to me, “Well, the team appreciates it, mate.”

“No problem, man.”

Tryouts began with Harry weeding out anyone who wasn't supposed to be there, either because they simply were so bad that they had no business on the pitch, or because they weren't even in Gryffindor, which happened to be the case for about twenty of the people in line.

Once that was done he started with Chasers and chose Ginny, who was incredible, Demelza Robins, a slight fifth year who was very agile on a broom and Katie Bell, who Harry considered a known quantity and probably would have made the team even if she hadn't been any good.

Next, came the Beaters. There were six of us who actually mounted brooms and took to the air after Harry's screening process had eliminated the rest of the prospects. Early on, while flying in a large circle and hitting some quaffles back and forth to each other, Harry asked two more to have a seat.

That left four. Two would be team members and two would not. I was amazed I had made it this far, frankly. I guess I was an ok flyer, if I had been playing all that time, like the other guys who were trying out, I would have given myself a better chance I could tell though, especially compared to a few of them in particular, that I lacked experience.

Harry called me and a short, broad-chested boy next. He had Ginny and Katie Bell lob quaffels at us and then had us hit them back.

“Ready?” called Katie Bell as she whipped the quaffel at me. I maneuvered into a position to strike and hit it as hard as I could with the bat. Katie caught it, but shook her hand like it had hurt to do so. I smiled when I noticed Harry saw as she nursed her sore digits.

“Again!” called Harry, his voice that of a General's at war. I could tell why he was captain of the team; he was in his element up there.

Katie threw much harder this time, but the result was the same. She caught the quaffel and flexed her hands with a grimace on her face. I was feeling confident now. This isn't so bad. Maybe I could make the team!

Harry caught Ginny and Katie's attention and said “Ok,” with a calm, even tone. They both raised their balls and threw simultaneously

I moved on the broom and watched the quaffel coming-- waiting, waiting - NOW!

The unthinkable. I swung with all my might, but Katie had put a spin on it that caused it to curve, like a baseball pitcher would with his slider. I think she might have actually felt the air move from the force of the swing I took, but the bat went much further than the quaffel; I had to let it go as the force of my swing up-ended me and left me dangling by my fingertips from the end of the broom.

“Shit!” I managed to pull myself back into the sitting position, but the damage was done. I looked over and saw the other try-out had managed to hit his quaffel, and I knew my time on the pitch was over.

“Good effort, Vin,” said Harry a moment later as he flew along side me. “Maybe if you had a better broom--,”

“No, Harry,” I interrupted, “You don't need to sugar coat it, buddy. I know I was outmatched. I expected to be. It was fun while it lasted, though.”

“All right, I'm glad you're taking it so well. Wish everyone else was.” He motioned at the other beater candidate who had been eliminated. He was yelling at Ginny, who had been throwing to him.

“Well, `Oh Captain, my Captain', get over there and start-- Captaining,” I said.

He flew off and I descended to the stands where I turned in my borrowed broom and went looking for Hermione. I hadn't seen her since Ron and I came out on the field.

The tryouts for Keeper began as I climbed the stairs to the top and then turned to look down on the crowd in their seats. I saw her mane of caramel hair down in the first row, and sitting by herself no less. A moment later I was pushing past the people in her aisle and sitting in the empty seat to her right.

“Oh, hello Vinny, “ she said, stowing her wand back into her pocket, “I'd say you did great out there, but I don't think you'd believe that lie, would you?”

She was teasing me, the way I had teased her about Crookshanks, but after last night, I was glad that she was speaking to me at all.

“Very funny. I don't see you up there trying out.”

“No,” she said, smiling at me broadly now. “I don't pretend to have any talent for Quidditch, unlike some people.”

“Man, you are mean today!” I laughed.

She covered her face as she giggled and said, “Sorry Vinny, but you should have seen yourself, hanging from that broomstick up there. As soon as I was sure you were ok, I laughed and laughed.”

“Yeah, yeah”

I turned to watch the tryouts and saw an applicant keeper go spinning out of control as Ginny tossed a quaffel through the hoop easily.

“So, Vinny, “ said Hermione next to me as she watched the tryouts, her voice now serious, “How are you holding up?”

“Well that depends; do you mean how am I holding up since I quit smoking, how am I holding up since I got eliminated from tryouts or how am I holding up since I got denied a goodnight kiss last night?”

“Oh, “ she said, her face pink, “Well, now that you mention it; I guess all three.”

“Well, I knew I wasn't going to make the team, so I am ok there. Ask me how I am after about forty eight hours since my last cigarette and I'll give you a better answer on that one.” I turned to face her, “As for the last thing; if you are feeling guilty about that,” I reached into her lap and took her hand in mine, “we can take care of it here and now if you want.”

She squeezed my hand and then released it, pushing it off her lap. “Remember how I said you were charming last night?” She rolled her eyes and smiled, “I'd like to have that remark stricken from the record.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but someone behind us yelled “DOWN IN FRONT LOONY!” I turned to see Luna making her way towards us.

“Morning,” she said, squeezing in on Hermione's left.

No one had called her Loony up until that point and it was hard not to laugh at her nickname, Loony Lovegood was classic. It made so much sense.

“Something funny Vinny?” she asked.

“No, sorry Loony-- I mean Luna.” Crap. She had to have noticed that.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at me and said harshly, “Vinny, don't you dare call--,”

“No, that's alright Hermione,” said Luna with her usual dreamy delivery, “Mr. DiFirst-year here would never call me names, would you?”

“Difirst-what?”

Hermione burst into laughter, “Oh Luna! That is hilarious! DiFirst-year!” She covered her face as she continued to laugh.

“Thank you Hermione,“ she said, “but I can't take credit for it, I'm afraid. I overheard Malfoy and some of his friends saying it.”

“What?” I exclaimed, standing up and looking over the crowd for Malfoy. I was going to make him regret that one.

“No Vinny, he isn't here,“ said Luna. “He was talking about you at breakfast this morning.”

Hermione, who was no longer laughing now that she knew who had come up with my nickname said, “Don't give him the benefit of knowing it affected you Vinny. You shouldn't lower yourself to a level that would let you get worked up about it.”

Easy for you to say, he isn't talking about you, I thought.

“What are you doing here anyway, Luna?” I asked. “Aren't you in Ravenclaw?”

“Yes, but I came to scout the Gryffindor team so I will know what Ravenclaw is up against when we play them. Oh, and to root for Ronald and Harry as well.”

“Ronald?” I said raising an eyebrow at Luna. Was that a hint of affection I hear in your voice, Loony?

“Yes, that is his name Vinny,” she replied, seemingly oblivious to my implication.

“Oh, ok.” I said, giving Hermione a knowing look and receiving one in return.

“So, you weren't very good up there were you?” asked Luna as I sat back down, her bluntness offset by the dreamy tone of her voice and the fact that I knew she honestly hadn't said it to make me mad, she was just - Loony.

“Oh, come on Luna. I haven't played a game in years. I don't think I did too badly - for someone who is practically Non-magical when it comes to Quidditich.”

Hermione looked questioningly at me and said, “Vinny, why don't you say Muggle? You always say `Non-magical' or some other term-- is that an American thing?”

“Well,” I began, not looking forward to the discussion about to take place; it was going to be awkward. “In the States, Muggle is a derogatory word.”

“Really? Oh Vinny, why didn't you say something? Have we been--,”

“No Hermione,” I interrupted before she got a good head of steam going, ”it's stupid, really. Don't worry about it. It's not like,” I looked around, and lowered my voice, “nigger or anything. It's just American political correctness run rampant. OK?”

She nodded, but before she could reply, Luna said, “Look, it's McLaggen. Harry can't choose that git for the team, even if he is the best Keeper.”

While we watched McLaggen, a behemoth of a guy, kick off from the ground to take his turn at defending the goals I shot Luna a curious glance, “Really? What's wrong with him Luna?” I had never heard her speak badly of anyone before.

“He once told me he would `throw me a shag' even though I was `Loony' and wore radish earrings. Like I would have anything to do with him. He's a pig!”

I looked up at him as he deftly defended the goal from Katie's second attempt to score.

Hermione was mortified. She reached into her pocket for her wand and growled, “Oh! I should hex him to next week for that!” She considered this for a moment then said, “Maybe I really should hex him. Ron is the only potential Keeper left and if a goal gets by McLaggen, he could make the team!”

I shook my head, “Hermione, Ron would murder you if he ever found out he made the team because you cheated for him. Let him do it himself. If he isn't as good as McLaggen then you'd be hurting Harry by putting a second rate player on the team. Hexing him isn't going to help anyone.”

She looked at me, then back up at McLaggen as he saved his fourth goal and sighing heavily in frustration, stowed her wand.

“I guess you're right. The good of the team is more important than Ron's happiness.” She smiled weakly at me and continued, “Not showing much faith in Ron's abilities, am I?”

“No, you're not,” I said flatly, “Is he really that bad?”

“No,” she said, looking down at Ron who waited nervously for his turn in the air, “He's not bad; he just gets flustered when the pressure is on him.”

McLaggen punted away the last quaffel and raised his fist in the air triumphantly as he returned to the ground. I saw Ron talking to himself, probably trying to bolster his confidence and was about to yell something to him when I heard, “GOOD LUCK RON!” from over my shoulder.

We all turned and looked to see Lavender with Parvati next to her, covering her face in embarrassment. She had chosen a tense moment when the crowd hushed to yell out her words of encouragement and seemed to regret it now. I went to look back at Ron but before I did, Parvati caught my eye and said “Hello Vinny!” her voice sweet and flirtatious.

“Making friends I see,” muttered Hermione.

I waved tentatively at Parvati, not sure if I should be happy with Hermione's irritation that another girl had an interest in me. “Yeah, she's a friendly one.”

Ron kicked off and circled the goals slowly, waiting for Ginny to make her first attempt. She feigned left then threw over her shoulder at the far right hoop. Ron stretched as far as he could and just deflected the shot away.

“Damn, Ginny is amazing.” I muttered.

“Yes, yes. We all know how amazing she is,” said Hermione in an annoyed tone.

Ginny was Ron's little sister to me, and while she was hot, maybe the hottest girl in school, I honestly didn't have any intention of trying to get with her. So, just to mess with Hermione a little, I said, “Well I was referring to her Quidditch skills, but now that you mention it; she's amazing in other ways too.”

“Mmm Hmm,” hummed Hermione, trying to ignore my comment.

As good as Ginny was, Ron kept pace with her and saved all five of her attempts to score. Hermione and Luna cheered loudly for Ron, but McLaggen, having watched Ron save all his goals, kicked off and flew up to Harry, getting right up in his face and gesturing broadly as he talked.

“Harry looks a bit flustered,” said Luna. She was right. The General's exterior that had painted Harry's face earlier was gone, replaced with a confused tentativeness that only seemed to make McLaggen yell all the louder.

Sensing that things were going south fast, I put my fingers in my mouth and whistled loudly to get Harry's attention. I motioned for him to fly down to us and a moment later he was hovering next to the stands.

“So, we have a tie,” I said.

“Yeah, McLaggen says Ginny wasn't trying with Ron. He says he had a harder trial than him.”

“So,” said Hermione, smiling at him knowingly, “You know what you have to do then, right?”

Harry stared at her for a moment, trying to figure it out for himself. “A shootout, right?”

She nodded, “Exactly, except this time, have Ginny shoot on him and Katie on Ron.”

His face lit up, if anyone could get a goal past McLaggen, it was Ginny.

“Brilliant, Hermione!” he said, smiling as he climbed back toward the waiting players.

“Hmmm,” I wondered aloud, “How much do you want to bet McLaggen has said some off-color remarks to Ginny like he has to Luna?”

“Yeah, I was banking on that,” said Hermione, “If this works out, this situation will remedy itself shortly.”

Ron saved all five of Katie's attempts with an agility I had rarely seen on a broomstick. He wasn't bad at all. McLaggen saved the first three, but on Ginny fourth shot, she reared back, looking like she was going to throw the ball so hard that it might catch fire from the friction as it passed through the air. McLaggen saw this and dove for the place where the ball should have been when she released it, but she changed the speed of the quafel as it left her hand. The arm motion was that of a fastball, but it came off her fingertips as a gentle lob and sailed through the undefended goal as McLaggen went tearing by.

I had never seen anyone play Chaser like Ginny Weasley.

The crowd erupted in loud cheers as Harry and his team descended to the grass and shook hands in congratulations. Hermione was clapping loudly, happy for Harry and proud of Ron. She must have been especially proud to have helped Harry with the team without even having to mount a broom.

McLaggen landed a few steps away from Harry and immediately went back to berating him. I watched, waiting to see if he would cross the line or if Harry could defuse this situation. I didn't have to wait long; McLaggen shoved Harry as he tried to turn his attention back to the team behind him.

“Uh oh,” I said as I stepped away from Hermione and vaulted the railing of the stands, heading towards Harry and McLaggen at a jog.

“That's rubbish!” yelled McLaggen, brandishing a fist and reaching for the front of Harry's robes.

“Hey!” I called as I approached with my wand at the ready. I stepped behind Harry and looked eye to eye with McLaggen. He was a big boy, an inch or two shorter than I, but probably a few pounds heavier and all muscle.

“It's over, man! You had your go, and you got beat. Do you think punching out the captain will change his mind?”

He puzzled at me for a moment, rage and frustration not letting his brain process my statement. Ron was at my side behind Harry a moment later. We must have looked intimidating standing side by side because he suddenly seemed to calm down and released Harry's robes.

“What's this, then?” said Ron, trying to sound like a tough guy.

I waited to see if McLaggen would respond to Ron, but he must have decided he didn't like the odds and stalked off the pitch, growling under his breath as he went.

“Thanks guys,” breathed a relieved Harry a moment later as Hermione came running up. “For the shootout idea too, Hermione. That was quick thinking.”

“Not at all,” she said dismissively, “I knew Ginny could beat him.”

“Lucky she did too. I don't think I could have gone another round,” said Ron, wiping his brow.

“Luck had nothing to do with it, Ron,“ said Ginny with a wide smile as she approached. She hugged Ron in congratulations and then headed off the pitch to the changing rooms.

“Nearly there Vin. Train up, and you could play next year,” she said as she passed me, patting my arm condolingly. I turned to watch her go, those damned hips catching my eye again, but I noticed that Harry seemed to be looking in the same direction I was. It was surprising, actually. I had always thought that they had more of a sibling relationship since they had known each other for so long. Maybe I was wrong about that. God knows I couldn't help but watch her sway off the field. I guess if you were straight, male and not related to her, you had to watch.

“Ron, you were brilliant!” came Lavender's voice as she came from the stands with a beaming smile on her face. She and Parvati trotted across the field to join the group in the center of the pitch.

Ron smiled broadly and somehow looked taller than usual, like he had a good reason to stand at his straightest. Harry gave his team the time for the first practice and soon there was only Ron, Harry, Hermione, Lavender, Parvati and I left on the field.

“That was really great, Ron!” said Lavender as she grabbed his arm and smiled up at him. He went scarlet and muttered, “Thanks Lav,” under his breath. Parvati stayed at Lavenders side across the circle of people. She seemed to be unsure of whether I was upset at having not made the team. To be honest, I was happy she wasn't hanging off me like Lavender was with Ron. Now that Hermione was there, I wanted her to keep to her side of the circle.

Conversation lulled and Lavender and Parvati said they were going to head back to the castle for lunch. Harry, Ron and Hermione seemed to have discussed their afternoon plans sometime this morning because they turned towards the forest and started off.

“Did you want to visit Hagrid with us Vinny?” asked Hermione as they turned to leave the pitch. I still had a book to read before tomorrow, but her face fell slightly when she saw that I might not choose to go with them.

“Sure,” I replied, moving next to her, “I haven't seen him since the train platform back on the first night.”

Her expression bolstered and we fell in behind Ron and Harry who were retelling every save Ron had made during the trial.

Hagrid's cabin was on the edge of the forest at the very end of the school grounds. The sun had managed to push through the lingering clouds as we approached and I saw, tethered in front of the cabin, lay a huge bird-like creature.

“Uh, Hermione, what is that?”

We all stopped short as the huge eagle head turned in our direction and fixed a golden eye on us. Harry took a few steps forward and bowed deeply, holding still until the grey-feathered head returned the bow. Only then did he approach and pat the animal kindly.

“That's Buckbeak,” said Hermione softly, “He's a Hippogiff. Half eagle, half horse. Have you never seen a Hippogriff before?”

“No,” I replied uneasily as Buckbeak's golden eye stayed locked on me. “Never seen anything like him.”

I was surprised that Harry had simply bowed and then walked up to Buckbeak to pet him like he was a cocker spaniel. Maybe it was the piercing, ominous way that his eye was staring at me. Ron and Hermione took a few steps towards Harry and the beast, but I stayed planted where I was.

Harry was whispering to the creature when Hagrid, huge hound dog at his feet, came around the corner of the cottage yelling, “Get away from him, he'll have yer fingers - Oh, it's you lot.”

He glared at the four of us and then unceremoniously entered his cabin, slamming the door behind him.

“Oh, dear!” said Hermione sadly.

Harry reassured her and pounded on the door for Hagrid to come out and face us all. He threatened to blast the door down if he had too, which earned him a scolding from Hermione who reminded him Hagrid was a teacher. Harry ignored her, but a moment later Hagrid opened the door and started to reprimand Harry in a very official manner. Harry apologized in an equally official tone, and the two of them stared at each other for a moment, realizing how foolish the whole situation was, as they had known each other far too long to act so officially.

Moments later, we were seated at a huge table in Hagrid's kitchen being served bucket sized cups of tea.

“This one still tagging along after you, Hermione?” asked Hagrid, winking as he put the cup of tea in front of me.

“Hagrid we aren't avoiding you!” said Harry before Hermione could answer. “We wanted to take Magical Creatures again, but we couldn't fit it into our schedules.”

“Yea righ',” he replied and sat down to a pile of potatoes and a peeler.

“It's true Hagrid!” cried Hermione as she rose to move closer to him. She crossed half the room and then stopped dead in her tracks in front of an open barrel along the wall of the cabin.

“Hagrid, what are those!” she said softly, recoiling from the barrel.

“Jus' giant grubs,” said Hagrid, as if everyone kept a fifty-gallon barrel of them in their kitchen.

And they grow into…” said Ron, putting two and two together faster than Harry, Hermione or I could.

“They won' grow inter nothin',” said Hagrid. “I got `em ter feed ter,” He suddenly sobbed, ”Aragog!”

And with that, he was an eight-foot pile of tears and blubbering.

Hermione braved the barrel and wrapped her arms as far around Hagrid as they could go, saying, “Oh Hagrid, what happened?”

He told the story of Aragog, someone obviously very important to him by his tears, and how he had gotten sick and was not getting better. I puzzled for a moment over what giant grubs could do to make someone feel better and nudged Ron.

“Who's Aragog?”

Ron shook his head and grimaced, whoever Aragog was, Ron didn't seem to care for him.

“Hagrid's pet spider,” he said, “Harry and I met him a few years back, not a nice bloke.”

“Pet spider,” I whispered, “He's crying over a spider?”

“You should have seen his reaction when he lost his Dragon.”

Ron turned back to Hagrid as Hermione tried to consol him, asking if there was anything we could do to help. Hagrid didn't think so, but hearing her ask seemed to cheer him up a bit, which was good because he was pitiful when he cried.

The four of them talked amongst themselves for a while as I sat and tried to keep up with the conversation. Between Hagrid's accent and the various topics that I had no knowledge of, I was left wondering if I should have caved to Hermione's distressed look and joined them. I still had homework to do after all.

Hagrid erased all of my doubts when he stood up and reached for a jug in his pantry.

“You lot don' mind if I have a wee nip, do yeh? Settle my nerves.”

He procured a cup and poured three fingers of golden liquid into it, taking a moment to inhale the aroma from it before he brought it to his lips.

“Thirsty are yeh, Mr. Dee-Franco?” said Hagrid as he looked me over curiously. I realized I must have been staring at him. Truthfully, I did want to have a drink; partly because I was curious about what it was he was drinking, but also because, well, I liked to drink. I'd been having wine with dinner since I was about ten years old and since I started High School, I had gone to more than a few parties and had my share of alcohol.

“Sure,” I said to him, taking a glass that, in his hand was a shot and in mine was a pitcher. He tipped the jug and put what he probably thought was just a taste into the glass. I smiled, thinking Hagrid would make a great drinking buddy. He had no concept of size when it came to doling out portions.

I was about to take a drink when I remembered that there were three other people in the room. I looked around at Ron, who was eyeing me jealously, Harry, who was looking at Hermione nervously, and then Hermione, whose face was almost purple as she sat there and watched a student and teacher have a drink of alcohol together.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, holding the glass out to them. “Anyone else?”

Ron leaned forward to take the drink but Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his seat saying, “No, thank you Vinny, we're fine.”

Ron crossed his arms and huffed.

“Cheers,” I said, raising the glass.

“Cheers,” said Hagrid and touched the glasses together. I raised it to my lips and breathed in the dizzying smell. I tasted a familiar sweetness, something I knew I had partaken of before, and when I took a sip I remembered.

“It's Scotch!” I said, swallowing a small gulp and feeling the heat travel down my throat to my chest.

“Aye, the Highlands finest!” said Hagrid with a broad smile. “That's very good Mr. Dee-Franco. Wouldn'a figure a lil' sixth year could tell Scotch from pumpkin juice.”

I took another sip and said, “Well it's not exactly my first drink, Professor.” I winked and clicked my tongue as I said `Professor' and watched Hermione roll her eyes at me.

“Oh? Have a lower drinkin' age in the States, do they?”” he asked.

“Yeah, something like that,” I replied and drained the last of the drink, already feeling it's affects as I fought the urge to go sit next to Hermione, even though she was clearly not in the mood to be romanced.

“Well,” said Hagrid, finishing his glass, “I'd offer another, but I don' wanna ruin yer dinner now, do I?” He laughed heartily and I found myself doing the same, even though I didn't really find it that funny.

“Besides Hagrid, it's getting late,” said Hermione, standing up and motioning for Harry and Ron to follow along. “We'd better get back to the castle.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Well, if you lot'r ever in need of some company, you know where ter find me.”

Ron, Hermione and Harry turned to leave and when he was sure they couldn't see, Hagrid put his arm out to stop me from following and with a wink said, “That goes fer you as well, Mr. Dee-Franco.”

I smiled up at him and slapped him hard on the back saying, “Cheers, Mate! I might just have to take you up on the offer sometime.”

When we got to the great hall for dinner I was suddenly starving, having not had anything but a pitcher of Scotch since breakfast. Just as we were about to reach the table however, Slughorn blocked our way.

“Ah! My Gryffindor stars, and both together! How fortunate for me.” He put his hands on Hermione and Harry's shoulders, stopping them and ignoring Ron and I standing next to them.

“What would you two say to a spot of dinner tonight with me in my rooms, eh? I'm having a little party with some rising starts and you would make the night complete.”

Harry seemed to search the room for an excuse as Ron tried to lean over my shoulder and listen in, “Sorry Professor, I have detention with Professor Snape tonight.”

“Oh, dear! That won't due at all. I will have to have a word with Severus and explain the situation to him. I'm sure we can come to an understanding,” he said rubbing his hands together. Ron crossed his arms and stared intently at Slughorn, waiting for him to acknowledge him standing there.

“Well then, I'll be expecting you Miss Granger,” he said, making Hermione a little bow. “Oh, and no one will think any less of you for coming unescorted.”

At this Ron pushed past us and plopped down at the Gryffindor table with a look of disgust on his face as Slughorn waddled off to find his next invitee.

“Oh, why didn't he invite you, Vinny?” said Hermione anxiously as we sat down to dinner.

“Looks like I have fallen out of favor with the Slug Club,” I said, “No doubt due to my amazing potion making talents…”

I could care less about impressing Slughorn, but having to sit in the common room and do homework while Hermione went to a party by herself didn't sit well with me at all.

“Oh this is awful! What am I going to do with him and his popularity club all night?”

“I'm sorry Hermione,” I managed, “I really wish I could go.”

She turned to Harry then, her expression flaring and said, “And you! You couldn't keep you mouth shut for one potions class?”

“Well you know where I'd be if I had a choice, Hermione!” spat Harry. She ducked her head to her plate and didn't look up until we were all done and on our way back to the common room.

“The Prophet said that Malfoy's house was searched this week by your Dad's team, Ron,” said Hermione as we climbed to the seventh floor.

“That's because I gave him a tip that Malfoy had bought something illegal back in Diagon Alley, remember?” said Harry.

“But they didn't find anything Harry, and he couldn't have brought it with him, or had it owled in,” she thought for a moment and then continued, “I don't see how he is going to get anything dangerous into the school. The security is simply too tight this year.”

“He'll find a way Hermione. I'm sure of it,” replied Harry, his expression contemplative.

“What did you see him buy in Diagon Alley?” I asked.

They told me how they had heard, more than seen him buy something, but Harry seemed convinced that he was going to use whatever it was to cause trouble.

“Well, has he ever not been a pain in the ass before?” I asked.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and frowned. `Not another one' their exchanged looks said.

“Seriously, I mean, if he has always caused trouble before, what makes you think he'll stop now?”

Harry beamed at my words, suddenly realizing he had an ally in his fight.

“Yeah,” he said, “Vinny's right, even without any proof, we should be keeping a close eye on Malfoy based on past experience if nothing else!”

Hermione and Ron seemed to give up after that. They shook their heads, shrugged their shoulders and ignored our theories and arguments as we entered the common room.

“Well, I'd better get changed for this, party,” said Hermione reluctantly as she climbed the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

I watched her go and then turned to Ron and Harry, “I've got some reading to do guys. I'm gonna sit it out by the fire.”

“Not, me,” said Ron, more upset than I was at not being invited to Slughorn's party. “I'm calling it a night. After tryouts today, I'm knackered.”

“You'll know where I am,” said Harry with a frown as he headed off to Snape's office and Ron and I bid him good luck.

With that, I was alone, sitting by the fire reading my copy of Turkic Runes, not feeling tired, but not feeling especially interested either. Time passed quickly and as I reached the halfway point in the book, I realized I must have missed Hermione as she left for Slughorn's party. Maybe she'd seen me studying and decided not interrupt. Whatever the reason, I would wait up for her so we could discuss the party, amongst other things.

Finally finishing the book, I looked up at the clock on the wall which read, “Off to bed, you!” as I rubbed my eyes. I was feeling a small craving for a cigarette as well as the lasting effects of Hagrid's drink, but I wasn't going to let it get to me. It was only my first smoke free night after all.

I can make it through this.

I decided to go back and review the first few chapters in Turkic Runes, just in case Professor Fenella sprung a pop quiz on us Monday morning.

The properties of Turkic Runes are unique in that nearly all of the symbols used are…

“Hello Vinny.”

I looked up from the book, taking in Hermione's form as my eyes past slowly up her legs, noticing a skirt much shorter than I thought she would wear, up to her blouse with the top two buttons undone, and finally to her face, where an intense expression was found, her eyes fixed on me almost predatorily.

“Well, hello there,” I said surprised. “You look like you had a good time.”

“It was awful actually, if not for that bottle of wine--,” suddenly she was on top of me, her thighs parting and coming to rest on either side of my lap as the book landed on the floor unceremoniously.

“Hermione, what are you--,” my mouth protested, but my hands went to her hips, pulling her down slightly and feeling the warm sheen of sweat along the small of her back under her shirt.

Before I could say anything else she had my face in her hands and was kissing me like her life depended on it. Lips and tongue and moaning and scratching as I tasted that wine she had mentioned and breathed in the fragrance of her skin and her hair.

“Vinny!”

“Wha--!” The book slipped from my fingers as I jerked awake. I looked around wondering where Hermione had gone and found her standing over me, her skirt well below her knees and her blouse fully buttoned.

Must have nodded off, I thought miserably.

“Are you alright? It sounded like you were dreaming about having a fight or - something.”

“Uh, yeah,” I stuttered lamely, “I guess so. I'm not really sure what the dream was about, actually.”

She cocked her head and looked me over carefully, then offered me a hand and said, “Come on then, it's just after midnight.”

I took her hand and rose, not using it for leverage as I was more than twice her weight and would have tossed her into the floo if I had, and we walked to the dormitory stairs.

“Vinny, Professor Slughorn said he is going to have another party in two weeks and I don't want to have to go alone again. Can you please try and make an effort in Potions to get back on his good side so we can go together?” I smiled broadly, hoping my dream had been a sudden surge of latent Divination talent, but then she continued, “I know Harry will make any excuse to avoid it, so you're my only hope!”

Oh, so as long as you aren't alone huh? Harry or I will do? I thought as I frowned at her. I said nothing on the matter however, not wanting to start a fight or ask any questions that I really didn't want the answers too.

“Yeah, ok Hermione.”

She didn't seem to notice my frustration, which made it worse, not better, and said, “Good night then, Vinny. See you tomorrow at breakfast.”

She went upstairs, leaving me feeling like waiting up for her was a mistake that I should have known better than to make.

AN - Trouble, trouble, trouble. Next time, we visit Hogsmeade!