Parenting Class Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimer: A new year has come and gone, and I still do not own Harry Potter…but can anyone guess what my wish was??

Parenting Class

A Few Little Accidents

“Now remember,” Hermione cautioned as they neared the Great Hall. “Harry hasn’t met anyone yet…so let’s try to find someplace quiet to sit.”

“I’m afraid that might be a little hard,” Draco snickered, opening the wide, double doors. Inside, children were running around, parents frantically chasing them. Platters had been knocked off tables and even Dumbledore was looking slightly unnerved.

“Looks like this bunch is rowdier then last,” the Slytherin commented. “So, where are we sitting? My house table or yours?”

“It might be better to sit at Gryffindor,” Hermione whispered so Harry wouldn’t hear. “I can’t say I trust everyone at your table completely to be around Harry.”

“Good point.”

The three made their way across the hall to the red and gold clad table, where all they could find of Ginny were her feet sticking out over the bench. “Something wrong, Gin?” the brunette asked, seating Harry down between herself and Draco.

“Oh, there’s something very wrong,” she grimaced, scrambling to sit up. “Ron got turned little…and he’s pulling the old trick at dinner he used to do when he was a kid.”

“Which is…?”

“Poking people with forks.”

“…”

“Yeah, I know. Lavender and Terry are hunting around by the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables for him. I was looking under ours, but no luck.”

“That’s too bad, Harry probably would have loved to meet him. Right, Harry?”

“I guess…”

Ginny laughed. “You’ll like Ron, Harry. He likes to play pranks sometimes, have to thank Fred and George for that, but he’s really sweet.” Then, the Gryffindor girl blinked and stared at Draco. “You’re sitting here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh…nothing.”

Draco glared and a lesser person would have run if mortal terror, but not Ginny. “What. Is. Wrong. With. Me. Sitting. Here?” the Slytherin ground out.

“Nothing, nothing,” Ginny smiled, waving her hands in front of her face. “But now you finally get to sit where you always wanted to be. Remember when you were…when you were trying out the potion?” she corrected herself, glancing at Harry. “You specifically said you wanted to be in Gryffindor and not Slytherin because snakes are, I quote ‘Snakes are yucky’.”

“I never said that!” Draco defended. “I was born to be in Slytherin.”

“Did too,” Hermione grinned. “I think you’re choosing not to remember.”

While the two attempted to trick Draco into admitting he had said he’d wanted to be in Gryffindor and Harry sat quietly between his guardians, simply watching the chaos in the room, another child was creating havoc.

“Ouch! Something just poked me!” Both Ravenclaws looked beneath the table, only to see a small boy scurrying away on hands on knees, a fork in hand. Creeping up to his next victim, Ron stabbed the poor seventh year in the leg before hurrying on his way, devilish grin on his face.

‘How come no one’s screaming?’ the child puzzled. ‘Fred and George always made people scream when they poked them…maybe I just need a better target.’

Crawling out from beneath the Ravenclaw table, the redhead made his way beneath the Head Table, searching out his newest victim. Bright blue eyes fell upon Dumbledore and he moved swiftly over.

But right before he poked the unsuspecting headmaster, he paused. ‘Now remember,’ he heard his mom’s voice saying in his head, ‘Always respect your elders. No pulling any tricks on your grandfather next time he visits, understand? It’s going to take him days to wash out the pink dye you put in his beard…’

So that meant no poking old, as in old-old, people…but then who? His eyes traveled down the length of the table, examining his possible victims. The lady at the end would be a nice target…but he didn’t want to hurt her. But what about the man two chairs down from her?

Moving cautiously over, Ron was only too glad when his desired prey rose to his feet to fix some of the floating candles overhead. Acting quickly, Ron poked his fork…and it got stuck, in the poor man’s butt.

“Is something wrong, Severus?” asked Dumbledore, watching as the Potions master’s face turned red.

“Nothing,” Snape ground out, casually removing the fork and sitting tenderly down, a grimace on his face. Hawk like eyes looked over the crowd for the person who had dared stab him. Thoughts immediately went to Harry.

But looking over at the Gryffindor table, he saw the boy, now a little child, sitting between his bickering godson and Hermione, Ginny laughing and cheering on Hermione. Deciding he’d eat dinner now and search out the child later, Snape dug into the meal that had just appeared on the plates.

Harry gasped in surprise as food suddenly materialized on the platters, the other students at Hogwarts helping themselves to the delicious looking cooking. “How…how did all of this get here?” Harry asked, as Hermione loaded up a plate for the child.

“It’s magic,” said Ginny. “The house elves prepared it and then sent it up to the tables.”

Harry squeaked in fear and backed nervously away from the food, falling off the long bench in the process. “Did I say something?” cried Ginny in alarm.

“He doesn’t like the ’m’ word,” Hermione explained. “His relatives didn’t allow him to say it and he’s frightened…which isn’t a really good thing since he’s at Hogwarts. Dumbledore told him it wasn’t a bad thing, but I guess it still takes getting used to.”

Draco leaned over the bench and picked Harry up by the back of his shirt and plopped him back on the bench. “Now eat,” he ordered, pointing at the heaping plate of food.

Slowly, Harry began to eat his cherry Jell-O, slipping a biscuit into his pocket when he was certain no one was looking. He knew that Hermione and Draco were nice people, but it never hurt to have a small snack hidden away in case they locked him up in the cupboard.

Ron, meanwhile, had just arrived back at the Gryffindor table, a new fork clutched in his hand. Terry and Lavender arrived a second later, and seeing the boy, immediately rejoiced. “We found him!” cried Lavender, picking Ron up in her arms and squeezing him. “Don’t you ever run off ever again! We were so worried!”

“I’m hungry,” said Ron, looking at the food, mouth watering. With a sigh, Lavender put him on the seat next to Ginny and herself on the other side, now attempting to catch her breath after the frantic search.

“You look a lot like my younger sister,” Ron commented to Ginny, taking a large bite of chicken. “You have the same color hair…and you both have the same freckle…” He pointed up at one of the brown dots on the side of Ginny’s nose, this one oddly shaped to resembled an upside down strawberry.

“Fancy that,” that Ginny nervously. It had just occurred to her, and everyone else who’d heard Ron, that he couldn’t know she was his sister…”

“What’s your name?” asked Ron, looking up at the girl with adoration shining in his eyes.

“I’m…Ginny,” Ginny said lamely.

“That’s my sister’s name! You stole her name!”

“No, no,” said Hermione coming to Ginny’s rescue. “Your sister just has the same name as Ginny…that’s all.”

“Then what’s your last name?”

“Umm…my last name is um…Weal!”

“It sounds like my last name…but it isn’t,” Ron grinned. “Okay, so you didn’t steal my sister’s name.” Content with his conclusion, Ron went back to eating his chicken with a relish.

“Ron,” said Hermione leaning around Ginny. “Would you like to meet someone your age? I’m sure you’ll become very good friends.”

“Okay,” the child said agreeably. Jumping off the bench, he walked over to Hermione, and a very scared looking Harry. “Hi,” he said pleasantly, holding out a hand to Harry, “I’m Ron.”

“Harry,” the black haired boy whispered, taking the offered hand and giving it a small shake.

“You don’t have to be so quiet,” declared Ron. “At my house, you have to yell if you want to be heard.”

“I don’t talk much at my house,” Harry said softly.

“Well, you’re going to talk a lot here!”

“I am?”

“Uh huh. To be noticed, you have to be REALLY LOUD!” Several people turned in their seats to look at the shouting child. “HI! I’M RON!”

“He’s so cute,” giggled a Hufflepuff.

Ron beamed and Ginny groaned, thumping her head on the table. “See? Being loud is good.”

“But I don’t like yelling…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll like yelling later. My mum is always yelling at my twin brothers…they pull a lot of pranks and make her really mad.”

“Do they get punished?” Harry whispered, eyes widening. If he were to ever pull a prank on his uncle, he’d probably be locked in his cupboard for a month.

“Oh yeah. Mum made them clean their entire room and help her with dinner for the next week! It was great! Except the food tasted kinda odd…”

“That’s it?”

“Yep, although they got in trouble a lot so they always were being punished. I think the funniest thing she ever made them do was wash the laundry…it ended up with Fred dyed white because George poured bleach over him. Mum says Fred was lucky he didn’t get any in his eyes.”

“Your family sounds really nice,” Harry commented.

“Isn’t everyone’s?”

At that moment, Dumbledore rose in his chair and tapped his spoon against his glass. “May I have everyone’s attention please?” he called, the room silencing down. “Thank you. First of all, I wish to extend a warm welcome to our new arrivals. I do hope you enjoy your stay at Hogwarts. Secondly, there was again a complication with the potion.”

Students immediately looked up at the Head Table, expecting to see one of the teachers as a child. “No, nothing this time has happened to any of the staff,” he chuckled. “This time, it has to deal with the other person besides the one who changed who drank the potion. It appears that somehow some of the potion was added to the grape juice. And although no one had any physical changes, they may have been acting a small bit like they’re changed selves would have. The effects should have worn off about now. Thank you.”

“Oh no,” Draco groaned, putting his head in his arms. “Oh no, no, no…”

“What’s wrong?” asked Hermione, placing a hand on Draco’s forehead. “You don’t feel sick.”

“It isn’t that…it’s you.”

“Me? I’m not sick. I spent the whole day in the hospital wing getting better.”

“Not now…I mean later.”

The Gryffindor girl raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Dumbledore said that some of the potion got into the other glass…Harry had the real potion, so you had a little of the other one.”

“So?”

“When you tackled me. And when we were arguing like that…you don’t act like that normally, do you? And he said that was only a small bit of what it would be like.”

“Looks like you got a small dose of what kind of trouble I’ll be,” Hermione giggled.

“I am not letting you take that potion,” Draco growled, completely serious.

“You can’t stop me…it’s for a grade.”

“Then we’ll fail. I refuse to have to live with you when you’re like that. You’ll probably kill me!”

“I wouldn’t kill you…although I can’t promise that I won’t cause bodily harm. I sent my dad to the hospital once when I jumped on his stomach when he was watching television…he wasn’t seriously hurt, but he was really sore for a little while.”

“What’s a television?”

“It’s…like a box that you can watch moving pictures and it has sound.”

Draco paused, and then remembered the reason he’d started this conversation. “You’re still not taking it.”

“I am. I think it will be rather interesting to change like that.”

“But…but…”

“Look, you got a turn and now I want mine. I’m taking it, and that’s final.”

Draco pouted silently through the rest of dinner. The student body discovered Harry a little while later, and cameras began to flash, the child clutching to Hermione in fear. “You’re scaring him,” Hermione snapped, placing her hand over one of the camera lenses. “Leave him be.”

With grumbles, the admirers turned away and left, Harry peeping out from behind Hermione. “Why were all those people taking my picture?” the child asked, glancing up at Hermione.

“Remember when Dumbledore told you about your parents?” Harry nodded. “Well, when the bad wizard tried to kill you, his curse didn’t work and all you got was the scar on your forehead. You are the first person to ever live against the killing curse. And when you resisted it, the bad wizard fled. So you’re a hero to everyone.”

“Oh.” A few minutes later, Harry climbed out of his seat and started going down the table, collecting all of the dirty plates.

“Why are you cleaning up?” asked Ron, watching his friend with amusement. “Mum always does that at my house.”

“I always do it at my house,” said Harry, his voice muffled behind the two dozen or so plates he was carrying in his arms, the stack swaying dangerously.

Hermione turned around, hand coming to her mouth. “Harry! You don’t have to clear those, the house elves do it!”

Just then, the stack swayed too much to the right and with a loud crash, it came tumbling down, the sound of breaking glass the only noise in the hall for several seconds. Once it stopped, Harry stood in the middle of the mess, tears gathering in his eyes.

“Oh, Harry…” Hermione murmured, climbing off the bench and slowly approaching Harry. “It’s all-” she never got to finish her sentence as the child bolted down the hall and out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Jumping to her feet, Hermione tore off down the hall after Harry, before stopping and running back to the Gryffindor table. Grabbing Draco by his ear, she yanked him off the bench and dragged him from the hall.

“All right, I’ll go check down by the Charms and Transfig hall,” said Hermione. “You look in the dungeons and by the DADA room.” Draco nodded and took off, both worried over the child.

For Hermione, all she happened to find was a spider, Crookshanks, who had somehow gotten out of the room, and…Peeves who wouldn’t let her pass. “I’m warning you, Peeves,” Hermione yelled, “I will hex you if you don’t move.”

The poltergeist merely grinned and stuck out his tongue. “Threatening poor Peeves now, are we?” he cackled, flipping around in the air.

Hermione made a move to step forward and Peeves tossed a water balloon, bursting an inch before Hermione’s feet and spraying her with water. Taking a deep breath, the girl dashed underneath the poltergeist with her arms over her head, attempting to shield herself as much as possible from the water balloon onslaught.

After a quick check down the hall, she realized Harry wasn’t there, and Leviculus said he hadn’t seen Harry either. Deciding to go help Draco, the Gryffindor ran for the dungeons.

Going down the stairs, the girl shivered, wondering why on earth Harry would ever want to come down here. Running down the hall at full sprint, she failed to notice Draco coming at her and both went down in a tangle of arms and legs.

Meanwhile, in another part of the dungeons, Harry was running for his life as three Slytherins chased him, shooting stunning spells off of their wands. The child wasn’t certain of why he was being chased, but he knew he didn’t want to get caught.

As soon as he’d dropped the plates, Harry had fled, afraid he was going to be punished. And he didn’t want to be punished…Hermione and Draco and Ginny had been so nice to him…and then he went and broke all of the plates.

He hadn’t looked where he was going…he just ran. And then he’d found himself completely lost down in the dungeons of Hogwarts. Hearing people talking in a hall over, the child had walked over to try to get directions. But as soon as the three Slytherins had seen him, they’d all started to chase him.

Since Harry isn’t going to know why these three Slytherins are chasing him, I’d best explain. Since he was little and unable to use magic or defend himself, his chasers planned to bring him to Voldemort where Voldie could kill him and then all would be good for the Dark Lord.

Going as fast as his little legs would allow him, Harry rushed down the corridor, his pursuers getting closer with every second. Glancing behind him, Harry didn’t see the suit of armor he was about to crash into…

CCCCCRRRRRRRRAAAAASSSSSSHHHH!!!!

Hermione, who had been lying on top of Draco for the past few seconds, the wind knocked out of her, jumped about a foot in the air when the crash sounded. “Come on,” she cried, leaning over and grabbing Draco by the hand, the teenager following her slightly dazed.

While they were running towards the noise, Harry had somehow managed to get himself inside the suit of armor and had a lance in hand. Charging the Slytherins, they screamed and ran the opposite way, not wanting to be speared by the lance.

Unfortunately, the helmet that Harry had on was completely covering his eyes. He continued to run the length of the hall and then turned when he could see from the corner of the helmet a side passage.

A scream sounded in front of him and the child stopped his run, the voice sounding very familiar. “Harry…whatever you do…don’t move, okay?” said Hermione, laughter bubbling up in her voice.

“What she said,” Draco squeaked, voice much higher then normal. Harry felt the helmet being pulled off his head and blinked, staring up into the smiling face of Hermione. Looking forward, he saw the lance was resting just below a very important part of Draco’s anatomy.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry and drew him backwards, Draco sighing in relief as the pointy weapon left the area around him. “Oh Harry, are you okay?” Hermione asked, hugging the child to her.

“I’m fine,” he whispered. “I’m sorry about the plates…”

“Don’t worry about those. Someone will clean it up. Now let’s get out of this armor.” Seconds later, the metal was on the floor and both were looking at Draco, who was still red in the face.

“What’s wrong with him?” Harry asked, looking at Draco with concern.

Hermione giggled, eyes twinkling. Then, it turned into laughter and then to absolute hysterics, as she stared at Draco.

“I was just almost castrated, thank you very much,” Draco grumbled, “and all she can do is laugh.”

And so, that’s how Ginny found them when she came looking. Harry watching Hermione with a bemused expression, Hermione rolling around the floor holding her sides, and Draco simply wearing an expression of utmost horror.