Chapter Text
June 29, 1996
Hogwarts Express, Britain
Harry looked out the window. He was bored but didn't want to read anymore. Dean was still talking with Seamus about quidditch, and Ron was trying to tell them the Cannons were going to finally win this year. When that happened, Harry had bet he would shave his head and run through the halls naked, since that wasn't likely, he wasn't that concerned with that bet.
He wasn't that concerned about much. They had won the Inter-House Quidditch cup again. OWLs were done and most seemed to have recovered from the stress. He even had friends, more than were in this compartment, though these were his closest friends. The only thing that concerned him was the fact his summer was going to feel long without any of his friends. He loved being home, and the farm and the island, but it got lonely at times.
Even sitting in the compartment with his friends, he felt a little lonely.
Going to Ron's was out of the question. The Weasley's were looking to go to Egypt for the summer. Hanging with Dean and Seamus were alright. Even Ron was alright. He had to admit, he wasn't as enthused to hang out with them anymore. All they wanted to do was talk about quidditch or girls, play snaps or wizarding chess or find ways to cause trouble. Until this year, Harry was right next to them. After getting his Prefects badge, he had tried to change.
Aunt Bel had been very proud of him, and Harry figured he should act the Prefect. That meant looking the other way when the three of them were planning their next antics, often with the twins. A few times their friendship had been strained the last year when he couldn't look the other way. He was not about to lose his Prefect badge or the chance to make Head Boy in another year.
Ron hit his leg. When Harry looked at him, he nodded his head. Harry looked out the door. A knot of girls were gathered, talking with each other. He didn't miss how they looked in the window.
"Susan is looking at you again," he said, indicating the redhead.
Harry admitted Susan Bones was very attractive, with generous curves and a narrow waist. He had considered asking her to Madam Puddifoots when they had stayed over at Christmas this past year but had chickened out. His friends had made fun of him for turning tail. He was the top quidditch player in school, second in class and all the girls seemed to love his green eyes and messy hair.
His Aunt had always taught him not to let it go to his head. He was pretty sure the badge on his cloak was the only reason he had not let it go to his head this year.
That said, his friends said he could have almost girl he wanted. Harry found many girls attractive, but he just hadn't felt the need to really pursue anyone yet. He figured at fifteen, he had time.
He also didn't want to date someone just because they liked him for being the top quidditch player. He didn't like fangirls. Susan didn't seem like one. Maybe in the fall he would ask her out? Unless someone else came up first.
"I need to go do one more round," he told them.
"Are you bloody serious?" Dean asked. "We are on our way home and should be to London in two hours. You can take a break."
He shrugged. "If I want to keep this, I need to meet Granger."
They all seemed to cringe at that. "Good luck."
"Granger isn’t that bad,” he shot back. He had never thought the girl to be as irritating as everyone else. He had even defended her a few times without her knowing. After having to do duties with her, and actually spending some time with her studying, he thought she was lonely. Harry had to admit he felt that way at times, even if he did have his friends in this car.
He made his way up front to the Prefects car. Harry didn't sit there because he still preferred to sit with his friends.
He pushed his glasses up his nose. The familiar half wild, light-brown, curly hair of the girl was distinguishable over the crowd. Harry didn't tell anyone to get back into their cabins and didn't see any rule breaking. She was leaning against the side of the car. "You're late," she said in her bossy tone.
Harry looked at his watch. "No, it is four minutes before we are supposed to start," he told her.
"I said I like to get to places ten minutes early when we studied."
He shrugged. "I was always on time."
She huffed. "I'll give you that. Come on."
If Harry hadn't spent as much time as he had with her this year, he might be offended. Instead, he found himself trying not to take the mickey. He lost the argument in his head. "It almost sounds like you gave me a compliment."
She snorted. "In your dreams, Potter."
"How do you know what is in my dreams?" he retorted.
She stopped short and he bumped into her, trying not to laugh. She turned, looking upset. Her finger jammed into his chest as she talked. "Listen here, Potter. I put up with you over the school year to help my grades. When we get off this train, I'm not going to think about you twice until we go back."
Harry had no clue what made him wink at her. "But you are going to think of me once," he said.
Her mouth opened and her face flushed a little. "Bloody prat," she said turning.
He chuckled. He was wondering what had gotten into her knickers? She had been this combative with him for months. She yelled at a group of first years for being loud and he had to quote the rules when she tried to deduct points. It was after term. Points and detention could not be done after the House Cup was declared. She huffed again. The girl was really annoyed with him at the moment.
"So, you think I will finally beat you next year," he asked.
"Not likely," she said over her shoulder.
"You only beat me by two-tenths the last two years. I will get you next year."
"Will you drop it," she told him.
"What? You afraid someone may actually be smarter than you?"
"I never said that. I work hard for my grades."
"Oh, come on. We all know you’re a know-it-all," he said cheekily with a grin, trying to make her laugh. "No wonder you beat me."
She didn't say anything. When she wiped at her face between cars, he realized he had pushed her too far this time. "Hey, Granger," he said grabbing her arm. She stopped but didn't look at him. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you cry."
"It's nothing." She wiped at a few more tears before pulling out of his hold and walking on. He didn't get why that would push her over the edge.
When they finished. She turned and walked back towards the front of the train without a word. "Granger." He called. "Hermione!"
She stopped and turned.
"Listen, I don't know what I said, but I wasn't trying to upset you."
Her brown eyes were boring into him. "I thought you might be different. You really fooled me this year, but you are just like all the other prats that make fun of me. See you in September."
She walked away and he stood there. "Bloody berk, Potter," he cursed himself. All he wanted was a rise out of her, not to offend her.
When the train arrived at the station, he said goodbye to his friends and went to the portal between his world and the muggle world. His Aunt had sent an owl at breakfast saying she was not able to meet him today. One of the ewes had come down sick.
Harry understood and didn't begrudge her. The Aegean sheep were important and even losing one before their time could hurt their small flock. He was happy for the two-wheel trolley he had, something his aunt had insisted on his first year, and not the first time he had to use it.
Making his way out of the station, he saw Granger again. "Oi, hey, Granger," he called out.
She looked at him. A woman that looked very much like her daughter turned too. He walked up to her and held out a hand. "I just wanted to say congratulations for making top of class again. I look forward to studying with you again in the fall."
The girl looked at him apprehensively before taking his hand. He had to admit he was confused why she was so upset with him. Maybe the ‘Now-it-all’ comment as over the edge, but he had teased her like that before without tears. "Thank you," she said.
"Is this one of your classmates?"
"Harry Potter, ma'am," he said, holding his hand out to her mother.
Her eyes lit up. "I see. It is very nice to meet you, Harry. I have heard much about you. Did you make second again this year."
Hermione turned crimson. He didn't react to it, figuring he had annoyed her enough today. "Yes, ma'am. I figure someday I will be as bright as your daughter."
The woman smiled at him. "From what I hear, you sound like you already are."
"Mum, can we go?" Hermione asked, sounding embarrassed. Harry could take the hint. Hopefully by September they could pick up where they had left off. He really had not meant to upset her.
"If you excuse me, I need to walk to the Leaky Cauldron. I'll see you in September, Granger," he said.
"Where is your aunt?" Hermione asked as he started to walk.
He paused, surprised she would know that. Very few seemed to pay attention to him like that. "She couldn't make it. There was a sick animal at our farm."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Harry. Do you need a ride? Where do you live?" Mrs. Granger looked concerned.
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Granger, but I can take the Floo from the Leaky Cauldron," he told her.
"What is the Floo?"
"Do you remember me telling you about the magical fire witches can use to travel places?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, the flow network. Can we at least give you a ride there?" she asked.
He looked at Hermione, who still looked a little flush. He didn't need to upset her anymore. "No thank you. It's not that far of a walk. Congratulations again, Hermione. Have a good summer," he said and took off for the nearest walkway.
This time of the year he was happy it stayed light out so late. By the time he made it to the Leaky Cauldron, he was hungry. The bar was busy, as it was near seven. He walked over to the fire, put his three knuts in the pan and took some Floo powder.
"La Nuit Etoilee," he said after tossing the green powder.
A moment later, he stepped out into small bar room that was much less crowded. Two men and a woman sat at the bar. They turned to see him walkout. "Evening, Harry," the woman said to him.
"Evening, Mrs. Baker," he said with a smile.
"How was Hogwarts this year?" a man in his later years asked. He wore the more familiar muggle outfits most common around here but would only be allowed in this part of the inn if he was a wizard.
Harry smiled and took a snitch out of his pocket. "I kept this one for you, like I promised, Mr. Guille."
The man caught it with a smile. "I take it you won the cup?"
"Gryffindor's again."
"Good job, lad."
"Did you make top or second again this year?" the other woman asked. Mrs. Troy had light hair and hazel eyes and looked to be in her thirties.
"Second. Granger took it again," he said, trying not to sound bitter. She really did earn it. Didn't mean he didn't want the spot though.
"You'll get it next year. You eat yet?" Mrs. Baker was already putting a clean cup on the counter and pouring a butterbeer in.
"Not yet. I should get home. Aunt Bel said she was having issues this morning," he told her.
She pointed to the chair. "Sit and tell us about Hogwarts. I expect to see your aunt in soon. She's been here every night this week."
Harry nodded. They all knew each other in this small enclave. Harry was the only one going to Hogwarts right now. Mrs. Baker's kids had graduated a few years ago, and Mrs. Hester's twins wouldn't start until next year.
His Aunt was not always a social person, but it was not uncommon for them to come here many evenings. There was a large community here of about fifty magicals on the island, many of them living on Little Sark. It made it much easier to hide in a community that was mostly magical, squibs or those that knew about them. Greater Sark was mostly muggles.
She put a bowl of thick stew and bread before him. He was hungry and ate the hot stew while most looked at him.
"Don't they feed you?" Mr. Guille asked with a laugh.
"I missed lunch doing rounds," he told them between bites.
"You should still eat," Mrs. Baker clucked.
"Granger wanted to do a round at noon and by the time we were done, the trolley had already gone by," he told them.
"I don't remember Prefects doing rounds on the way home," a young man said. It was one of Mrs. Baker's sons.
Harry shrugged. "Granger said it was our duty and I don't want to lose my badge. I am going to be Head Boy year-after-next."
Mr. Guille laughed. "Man after my own heart. I was disappointed my seventh year when I didn't get it."
"I remember Professor Kettleburn taking your badge away seventh year," Mrs. Baker said with a raised brow.
"After not making Head Boy, and looking at coming back to Sark, I didn't think I needed to care," the man said. "You know my father wanted me to take over the farm."
"Aye, I do. So, did you catch the snitch all three games?" Mrs. Baker got another large hunk of bread for him. "Want more stew?"
"Please," he asked her, buttering the bread. "I let the outgoing Hufflepuff seeker get it when we were two-hundred up."
They all looked at him. "You let the other seeker get it?"
He pushed his glasses up his nose. "It was a professional courtesy. It was his only catch this year, after replacing Diggory. Next year I'm not giving anyone anything. Chang, Malfoy and myself will be returning and there is a good second year I expect to be the new Hufflepuff seeker."
"I expect another snitch if you win all three," he said.
"I was lucky to get that one. You already have the three I've been allowed to keep," he said to the older man.
"Silas, you have taken all the snitches he has?" Mrs. Baker scolded him.
The man looked guilty. "Harry never told me that he didn't have any others."
She grabbed the snitch that was on the bench. "You better grab the first one he caught and return it."
"Mrs. Baker, I gave them to Mr. Guille." He had been a seeker. Harry understood the importance.
"You caught these, and they are your only ones. You should at least have the first one you caught," she told him.
The door opened and a woman with long black hair tied back over her shoulder came in. She was in jeans and a long sleeve shirt. Straw was in her hair and her grey eyes looked tired.
"Evening, auntie. Is Maribelle alright," he asked.
Her eyes lit on him and she smiled. "Harry! I thought you were running late."
The woman moved over to him and hugged him while he sat on the stool. "Let me look at you," she said standing back and holding him at arm's length. "Don't stand up, I don't need to know how much taller you are now. You look good. No more broken arms?"
"I've been good since my last quidditch match," he said, and she hugged him again.
"How was Hogwarts? Thank you, Millie," she said taking a mug of butterbeer and sitting next to him.
"Anytime, Belvina. I have stew or some beef tonight," she said.
"Stew. I see Harry has already finished his bowl."
"You mean his second. I thought Hogwarts fed them better," she said with a smile as he opened his mouth.
"I said I missed lunch. I have no issue with Hogwarts food," he told her.
His aunt put a pile of silver on the bench. "That should cover things."
"Aunt Bel, I have money with me," he told her.
She waved him off and Mrs. Baker took the money. "At least some people always pay their bills," Mrs. Baker said looking towards Mr. Guille.
"I pay every month," the man said.
"Not always," she said walking away to the kitchens again.
"How was your year," she asked.
He screwed his face. "Second, again. I don't think I will ever beat Granger," he huffed.
She nodded. "Probably not by the way you describe her."
"The girl is bloody brilliant. She actually flags and sorts all her notes. I can't tell you how she went off on me when she caught me writing in my books," he said eating the last of his bread.
She raised an eyebrow at her. "When did you see her notes and why are you writing in your books?"
Harry didn't meet her eyes. "We started to study together a few times a week since Christmas." He hadn’t mentioned that in any of the letters he sent home and he wrote to her about every other week.
"And you didn't let me know?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Didn't think it was that important. I was hoping to get ahead."
Mrs. Baker chuckled. "I remember my sons doing that when they liked someone."
He shot his head up at her. "I don't like Granger that way."
The woman chuckled again. "Of course, you don't."
"Where was she ahead of you?" his aunt asked.
"Magical History, Astronomy and Potions. I can't wait to drop Magical History and Astronomy next year."
"How do you think you did on your OWL's?"
"Outstanding on most," he said with a smirk.
"If you made eight Outstandings, I'll give you that one-hundred and fifty galleons you want towards the Firebolt."
He smiled at his aunt. "Mrs. Baker, do you still need a stable hand this summer?" he asked.
"You will have to take care of the sheep first," his aunt said.
"Not this year, Harry. William is back for the summer and is already going to handle that," she indicated her son.
"Only until I find a new job, mum. Harry can do a couple days a week if he wants," William said. "I may need the time for interviews."
"You good with this, Belvina?"
"As long as he feeds and takes care of our sheep first, that is fine." His aunt gave him a nod.
"Don't you have house elves?" Mr. Guille asked.
"Harry still needs to do his chores when he is home," his aunt responded.
"How do you feel about Tuesday to Thursday. I want the stalls mucked, the horses fed and ready for saddle by nine. In the evening, you clean the stalls again, brush down the horses and feed them again," she told him. "I'll pay you five galleons a day. Then I can pay you extra if you want to drive the cart or pick up other chores."
"Deal. I'll make sure the sheep are tended to before I come over," he said to his aunt.
"If you slack, you will have to drop this with Mrs. Baker," she told him.
"I won't slack," he said.
"Have you ever known him to go back on his word?" Mrs. Baker asked.
"There is always a first," his aunt said.
"You think I am going to miss out on 135 galleons plus the extra I could make. I could have the money for the Firebolt by mid-August with the other 150 you are giving me," he told her.
"Settled. You start Tuesday. Enjoy your few days off," his aunt stated.
Harry smiled. He was so close to getting the Firebolt. He had been saving and trying to make all sorts of odds and ends and saving as much as he could of his allowance for three years. He had over twelve hundred galleons and needed about three-hundred and sixty more. He should easily be able to get that this summer.