Oh, Harry

Importance of H

Chapter 3: The Importance of H

AN: short chapter is short but intentionally so. The next few chapters will be a much more appropriate length, but this chapter was in my original posting of the story and I feel unwilling to let go of the weirdness contained within it.

It was nearing December. It just was. There wasn't much to be done about it. Snowfall was a constant threat, but magic kept the students warm. Well, not really. Consistent application of warming charms would have made far too much sense, so instead each of the classrooms, as well as the main hallways, were equipped with miniature floating fires. Unfortunately, these enchanted flames were much better suited for lighting than heating. The small first years in particular often found that either the cold was hardly abated, or they fell victim to singed sleeves and burnt fingertips.

Harry was happy. And he was happy that he was happy. Harry had taken a liking to the letter 'h.' He said so to his friends during lunch.

"I've rather taken a liking to the letter 'h'- yes Ron, you can have that, I've already eaten. I think 'h' is my favourite letter." This declaration was met with silence from his companions. "I mean, what's not to like, for me at least?" Still, no response. "Here, I can list it off. I've got my own name, Harry, of course, and you Hermione. Hogwarts. The Great Hall. There's Hedwig, and the Hufflepuffs are also pretty nice. Madame Hooch is the flying instructor, and I love flying." By this point, the trio had left the Great Hall and were walking to their next class. The Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain, Oliver Wood, gave Harry a happy clap on the back as he bounced in the opposite direction. The fifth year had been riding on a high ever since their victory over Slytherin and even now, almost two weeks later, the older boy was still nearly skipping as he made his way about the castle.

Harry, who was beginning to truly love Quidditch, was experiencing a brief bout of hyperfixation and barely noticed Wood passing by. "These hallways are pretty cool, although it's a bit too cold. I think I prefer it to be hot rather than cold."

Hermione side-eyed her scrawny friend.

As they rounded the corner of one such hallway, Ron chucked a roll at Malfoy, who yelped, fell over, and landed in the lap of Professor Dumbledore. Upon realising what, or rather whom he had landed on, the blonde Slytherin yelped even louder and launched himself up and out of the corridor. Sparing a moment for a quizzical stare at the headmaster sporting robes that didn't have a colour that one could put a name to, when Harry had been sure that the man had been wearing neon pink a few minutes ago in the Great Hall, the boy shook his head. "See Hogwarts is like my home, my hearth, I feel healthy and happy here."

Hermione started, "But Harry, what about Hallow-"

Ron's groan cut her off as they neared their next class, "Ughh, History of Magic."

Harry slumped, the evidence of how a dull teacher can, in some ways, be worse than a bad teacher, was written all over his body language.

Ron glanced at his friend, nodding as he summarised the thoughts of anyone who had ever sat down for a lecture given by Professor Binns. "The reason he's still here as a ghost was because he was too boring for hell to accept him."

"Language, Ronald," came the near-instinctual response from Hermione. She looked over at the stricken Potter boy. "Oh, Harry…"

AN: a bit short, but I have some other good chapters planned/written. I just need to build up to them in the timeline. Nothing too serious, probably just one more chapter for 1st year, and probably another 3 for 2nd year, each currently in various states of completion. I'll probably slow down the years passing once I get to 3rd year, because I'll have a larger range of potential jokes by then, and especially 4th year and up. Doesn't fit well when a bunch of eleven and twelve-year-olds are hopping around, cursing (profane and otherwise) everything that moves (and several things that don't), with innuendos to boot. Ron is a small, partial exception, what with all the 'bloody hells' he gets in the movies. And I do prefer the books, but that swearing characteristic does fit for a boy with 6(!) older brothers.

Also not every chapter is going to end with Hermione saying "Oh, Harry," that's not the goal. I don't want it to become groan-worthy, just a staple of Hermione's character. So I won't usually write with the goal to end with that phrase. But hey, if the shoe fits, wear it.

I'm also on AO3 if you prefer that site (I know I do). Same username, but I'll try to remember to put a link in my profile.

I'm having a lot of fun writing this story, my first ever. I hope I'm doing well, and you are enjoying this too. Feedback is appreciated, as are those other fun bits of interaction available to you amazing readers. Have a good one :)