Author's Note: Okay… so I thought I'd have a bosh at writing again… I sort of gave up for a while, the portkey readers choice awards always seem to put me down, but meh… I'm gonna try it again methinks.
Now I warn you, this might turn out to be complete dribble. I have no plot idea in mind, I have no idea where this may go, but I'm hoping by the end of it, I'll have a fic.
Okay, I'm just going with the whole Baby!Harry theme. I haven't seen a good Baby!Harry fic for ages. I'm not saying this'll be a good one either, but you know… haven't written it yet… so we shall see.
Disclaimer: You know the gig, I own nothing. Well… I own this laptop… no wait… apparently I share that with Mum… Um… I own this coke can ring pull! There you go. So yeah, don't sue me… all these characters and all things Harry Potter that you find in this fic are copyright to JK. Rowling.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'I don't understand why he gave me a 'T' though! The stuck-up, greasy haired git!'
'Ron, we were supposed to be brewing a Transparency potion. You brewed an Age Potion. Think about it.'
'It's not my fault I read the wrong page! I was sure he said page 163!'
'He said 168. Honestly, Ron, you can't blame everything on Snape.'
'Whose side are you on, anyways!?!?'
Harry rolled his eyes and walked on in front, while behind him Hermione was busy giving a good telling off to Ron, much to his indignation. He couldn't help but smile a little at Ron's mistake, though he still hated the arrogant little sneer Snape didn't try to suppress at it. He practically giggled when he gave Ron that 'T'.
As they reached the Great Hall, the smell of Roast dinner wafted out of the doors towards them, causing them all to emit a little noise of appreciation. Harry was starving, he hadn't eaten anything for breakfast this morning, having to hurriedly finish his Transfiguration essay under the disapproving nose of Hermione. He had tried to grab a piece of Toast while writing, but Hermione quickly proved her dislike of that idea when Harry's parchment began to get butter all over it.
However, Ron decided that he didn't like the idea of sitting in a Hall full of people in such a bad mood. He walked along, fuming silently until they reached the doors, then stopped, span around on his heel, announced that he wasn't hungry, then marched off up a set of marble steps. Hermione sighed exasperatedly.
'Honestly… If he wants to get in a huff over nothing….'
Sensing another Hermione rant coming on, Harry interrupted her, grinning slightly. How well he knew his best friends.
'It's okay, It's okay… I'll go after him. You just go have dinner okay? I'll be back soon, hopefully with Ron…'
Admitting defeat, Hermione dropped her tense attitude and smiled gratefully at him.
'Thanks. I'll see you later then.'
With that, she turned and walked into the Hall, leaving a very hungry Harry to make his way up to the common room, stomach grumbling.
As he climbed through the portrait hole, expecting to see Ron pacing adamantly up and down the hearthrug, he was surprised to see that Ron was in fact sitting quietly by himself in front of the fire. Confused, Harry wildly half hoped this wasn't one of those 'break down and cry your eyes out' moments, he wasn't good at those, with either sex. Thinking he would take the male way out, he'd just clear this up quickly and drag Ron back down to dinner. With this plan in mind, he made his way to the sofa, leaning on the back of it and grinning down at Ron.
'You alright, mate? Not like you to miss dinner.'
No answer. Harry inwardly sighed. It seemed like he'd have to take the long way round the situation.
'Come on… what's up?'
He swung around the side of the sofa to slump down next to Ron, who was looking very solemn.
'It's Hermione…'
Harry almost did a back-flip away from Ron. He had the feeling that this conversation was coming. Harry knew that Ron liked Hermione. Of course Ron was still taking the whole naïve attitude that no one knew, and no one was ever going to find out, but it hadn't worked. Even Harry had seen it, and considering he was pretty dense at these things anyways, as he'd already admitted to himself, he took that to mean that it had been quite obvious.
'I just… I wish she wouldn't put me down like that. Doesn't she think I feel bad enough as it is?'
'Okay… maybe this isn't going where I thought it would.' thought Harry, almost daring to take a sigh of relief. He hadn't wanted to talk to Ron about Hermione at all. He was afraid that Ron would ask him how he felt about Hermione, and if he was honest, he didn't have a clue, he hadn't really thought about her like that, and he was willing himself not to. Ron being Ron, however, might have taken that to mean that he did like Hermione, and he didn't want any misunderstandings.
'Well… you know she only wants what's best for us. She's concerned about you, Ron, we all are. Wouldn't you be worried if she hadn't concentrated in class one day and got a 'T'? I know I'd probably die of fright or something.'
This emitted a chuckle from Ron.
'True.'
'So… can we just forget this now? I'm starving, and thirsty. I want to go to dinner.'
'Heh, well, I might stay here for a bit longer. You can go down if you want, Harry, I'll be fine.'
Harry sighed inside again. This was harder than he thought it would be. He hated these complicated emotional dilemmas.
'Nope. If you're staying, I'm staying. I'll just.. Get a drink here.'
He walked over to the table, where a flask of pumpkin juice that the House-elves had left for people who didn't go down to dinner stood, and opened up the lid. As he went to take a swig, out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Ron jump up. He continued to drink however, until he realised that his pumpkin juice didn't actually taste like Pumpkin Juice.
'Ugh… I think this pumpkin juice is a little off… Urk…'
'Harry! That's my Age Potion!!!'
'WHAT?!'
As soon as he'd said it, there came a sharp pain from somewhere in his chest, and he doubled over, the room seeming to get bigger. His eyes were becoming blurry and his hair seemed to be growing. His clothes suddenly seemed five sizes too big, and as he sank to the floor, he realised that he had no idea where he was. When the pain stopped, he had sunk to the floor, and was sitting, wide legged, blinking up at the strange red-haired man who was looking at him funnily. To his right lay a pair of black-framed glasses, which confused him slightly, and he was wondering why he was dressed in clothes that were far too big for him. Even Dudley wasn't this big…
'Sweet Merlin! Harry? Harry, are you alright?'
Harry jumped at the loud voice coming from the red-haired man. He didn't like loud people, or when they moved suddenly near him. He always felt like they would hurt him. He merely cowered away and blinked.
'Harry? How old are you?'
Harry moved even nearer away, still blinking up at the man with his big green eyes, feeling more and more scared by the second. However, if there was something his uncle had taught him, it was to answer when questioned, so he would not be rude.
'I'm… I'm 5...'
'Crap! Okay… uh… wait here, I'm going to get Hermione!'
With that, the man scrambled away, and Harry was left alone.