Unofficial Portkey Archive

Title: Harry Potter's Day Off

Author: Arachne

Harry and Hermione tumbled out of the fireplace in the empty back parlour of the Three Broomsticks, where they had Flooed to from the Burrow.

"I still don't think this is a very good idea," Hermione said as Harry helped her to her feet. "What if we're seen?"

Just then, Madam Rosmerta entered the parlour, Levitating a tray of dirty pint glasses in front of her. "Seen? By whom? Surely not by me--why, I don't see anyone in here." The curvaceous proprietor winked at Harry before continuing on her way to the kitchen. "Just like your father, you are."

Harry turned towards Hermione with an angelic smile. She rolled her eyes good naturedly and they both laughed.

"I had a great time today," she smiled. "In spite of myself."

"Yeah," he grinned. "I suppose it was all right."

Hermione bit her lip anxiously. "Do you think Ron's going to be all right?"

"Oh, definitely. For the first time in his life, I reckon he's going to be just fine." Harry planted a kiss on the top of her head, and hugged her to him tightly. "I meant what I said earlier, at the Observation Platform. You do know that, don't you?" She pulled back and looked up at him wistfully. "One day ... I vow to you right here that one day, I will marry you."

She couldn't stop the smirk from spreading across her face. "You knew what you were doing when you woke up this morning, didn't you?"

"Me?" he smirked back. "Never."

Harry leant in and captured her lips with his own, framing her face gently with his hands. She smiled against him, deepening the kiss, and cradled the back of his head with one hand, the other tightly fisted in his jumper. Their hearts and minds and senses were completely consumed by each other, and it was only when the sound of distant bells tolled the hour broke that they broke apart.

"Bugger--it's six o'clock," Harry said as the last chime rang out. "I have to go--I'll see you later!"

He turned to leave, but she grabbed his wrist. "I still don't understand why you want to go back to Hogwarts from here--why don't you just Floo back with me?"

"It's too risky," he replied. "There are too many people who might see me. It's best if I go back the way I came--I'll take the tunnel in the Shrieking Shack to the Whomping Willow, then head for Hagrid's. Wish I'd thought to bring my Invisibility Cloak today, though, it would have made things a bit easier."

"You will be careful, won't you?"

"Aren't I always?" He gave her a quick peck on the lips. "You be careful, too--if Snape or Trelawney sees you, they'll have your head."

"They won't," she insisted confidently. "No one will. I'm Flooing back when everyone's at dinner, and I plan to barricade myself in my room all night until I return to class tomorrow. Besides, neither Snape nor Trelawney would ever set foot in Gryffindor Tower, never mind the Head Girl's bedroom."

"Snape had better bloody not set foot in your bedroom, if he knows what's good for him," Harry said grimly, and she laughed. He pulled her closer to him and nuzzled her neck, snaking a hand underneath the hem of her hoodie, where it began climbing upwards. "It's a shame, you know, that you'll be locked up all alone in your room tonight, and I'll be locked up all alone at Hagrid's ..."

Hermione laughed again and swatted his hand away playfully. "We'll see. Now go, before both of us are locked up in the dungeons until we graduate!"

Harry laughed too, then his tone grew serious. "This really was one of the best days of my life, Hermione. I'll never forget it, even when I'm old and wrinkled and grey."

Caressing her cheek with his hand, he gave her one last kiss and reluctantly released her. His last sentence echoed in her mind as she watched him walk away, and it suddenly dawned on Hermione that it was the first time she had ever heard Harry speak of growing old--of a life beyond Voldemort. His courage in turn gave her courage to do something she had never done before. Her eyes welling up with tears, she called after his retreating form.

"I love you!"

Harry looked back over his shoulder and smiled at her in awe before vanishing through the back door of the pub. "I love you, too!"

"He's going to marry me," Hermione said softly to herself as she stepped back into the fireplace and headed back to the Gryffindor common room.

"Do you have any idea what it is like to be owled in the middle of a Transfiguration class to pick up a student from the Ministry of Magic?" McGonagall demanded of her young charge.

"No," Malfoy said sullenly. Then, as an afterthought, he muttered, "Sorry."

The two of them were walking up a side road leading to Hogsmeade High Street, towards Hogwarts. Fuelled by anger, McGonagall strode several paces ahead of Malfoy whilst he straggled behind, loath to catch up with the furious Deputy Headmistress.

"I've been busy enough trying to keep up with classes and administrative work in light of Professor Dumbledore's absence today, but thanks to your insouciance and sheer foolishness, I have also neglected my duties in properly taking care of Mr Potter, whom, as you know, is very, very ill!" she fumed. "Goodness only knows what sort of trouble he might have found himself in this afternoon, and I wasn't there to attend to it!"

As if by fate, the back door of the Three Broomsticks opened just then, as Malfoy trudged past. The black haired, green eyed wizard who emerged had the misfortune to be looking over his shoulder and speaking to someone inside the pub instead of looking ahead and watching where he was going. For not a moment after Harry's declaration of love to Hermione left his lips, he collided with one of the very last people he had ever hoped (or expected) to see.

In a tangle of limbs, Malfoy and Harry fell to the ground as McGonagall marched on, still lecturing Malfoy about his truancy and completely unaware of the scene behind her. Harry leapt to his feet. His wide eyes locked with Malfoy's narrowed ones for an instant, then he turned and bolted up an alleyway adjacent to the pub.

Hoping to cut him off at the pass, Malfoy sprinted around to the front of the pub. As he passed McGonagall, he grabbed at her wrist and tried to drag her along with him, but she resisted, swatting his hand away with her other hand, which held a heavy tartan carpetbag.

"Mr Malfoy! What in the devil are you doing? Mr Malfoy!"

In desperation, he let go of her wrist and continued to run towards the other end of the alleyway, confident she would follow him and see for herself what her precious, "bedridden" Potter had really been up to. But the force with which he let go of her toppled McGonagall to the ground. Her carpetbag broke open and a pile of third-year Transfiguration tests tumbled out, the wind scattering the parchments up and down the street.

"Malfoy!" she screeched after his retreating back. "Come back here this instant and pick these parchments up before I have you expelled!"

Malfoy stopped, torn. He didn't seem to know which way to turn, his head whipping back and forth between the entrance to the alleyway and McGonagall several times.

McGonagall bent to pick up a clump of errant parchments nestled in the gutter. "Look at this mess--parchment all over the place! I'll never get this sorted properly again!" She continued to gather the remaining stray parchments, her back to him. "Fifty points from Slytherin and a week's detention! And I suggest you come back here right now unless you want either of those doubled!"

Malfoy hesitated for a split second, then mentally cursed her and took a step in her direction. At the same time, out of the corner of his eye he saw a black and green blur whiz out of the alleyway and take off down the street in the opposite direction to them--and Hogwarts. Throwing caution to the wind, Malfoy did an immediate about-face and raced after Harry.

"MALFOY!"

Ignoring the various witches and wizards who gawked at him from the kerbside, Malfoy sprinted as fast as he could down Hogsmeade High Street. The street had turned into an obstacle path, forcing him to dodge and weave through stacks of crates and barrels outside various stores, window-shopping pedestrians and even the odd Kneazle or Crup that wandered across his path. He could distantly hear McGonagall demanding his return, but it was far too late for that now. Besides, he was already facing stiff house point deductions, multiple detentions, suspension and possible expulsion, anyway--he figured it wasn't possible to get in any more trouble than he already was.

Harry was running so fast he thought his lungs would burst. He chanced a quick glance over his shoulder, where he could see Malfoy gaining with every step--and was that McGonagall in the distance behind him? This would never do. He was well past the road leading to the Shrieking Shack now, which had been his only hope of escape. There was no other way back, unless--That's it! he thought. Honeyduke's! Although taking the secret passageway in the cellar would be risky, as it led straight back to Hogwarts, getting caught by Malfoy or McGonagall would be sheer suicide. He decided to chance it, and headed straight for the sweet shop.

Albus Dumbledore was tired. It had been a long, somewhat difficult day, thanks largely in part to Cuthbert Mockridge's idiocy. Still, he was confident cooler heads would eventually prevail, and a union with the Goblins was within reach.

Rather than Portkey from the Ministry to his office, Dumbledore had decided to Portkey to Hogsmeade instead, and take advantage of what was left of the fine spring day by enjoying a leisurely stroll back to Hogwarts. The fresh air and sunshine were a welcome tonic after the stuffy Goblin Liaison Office boardroom. Dumbledore almost pitied Mockridge and his colleagues--no one should have to be cooped up inside on a day like today.

He smiled and nodded in greeting to several passers-by outside Madam Puddifoot's, then continued on his way down the side street towards the High Street. As he turned right onto the main thoroughfare, the golden-lettered sign above Honeyduke's beckoned to him in the distance. Dumbledore sighed to himself happily. Well, I am almost out of sherbert lemons ...

At the other end of the street, Malfoy was still in hot pursuit of Harry. He could hear McGonagall shouting from somewhere behind him and quickly looked over his shoulder to gauge her proximity. With shock, he saw that she had begun to run after him--he hadn't thought the old bat would be so spry, let alone able to--

THUD!

His body connected with something solid and soft and large, and for a fraction of a second, he ecstatically thought he had finally caught up to Potter. Then he turned and looked up, and the thrill of triumph that shot through him immediately dissolved into a cold, leaden lump of dread. A uniformed Magical Law Enforcement Squad officer stared down at him suspiciously, arms folded across his barrel-like chest.

"Allo, allo, allo--what's all this, then?"