Nobody ever asked my birthday

Chapter 47

Harry Potter climbed up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower faster than he'd ever climbed them before - and that included as a first year, when he had been quick as a flash (through intensive Harry Hunting training). Oh, Harry wasn't surprised at his improved stamina - he wasn't quite sure how long he had fought Snape in his dead godfather's house, but he figured it had to have been at least twenty minutes.

Quick as a blink, Harry Potter slid through the entrance to the Common room (making Alicia wait an extra moment to leave, as she pulled back hurriedly so as to not get run over). Having arrived, Harry Potter stood, in a thrumming sort of suppressed motion that could never be mistaken for casual, as he calmly scanned the room for Hermione Granger.

There. With Ron, curled up and reading, with him sitting beside her as Dean sketched a muddled picture of them*.

Harry strode over, suppressing his instincts to run, to laugh, to pull Hermione into a hug and whisper everything to her, just because. That would, Merlin knew, upset Ron to no end. Harry sprawled casually on the armrest near where Hermione laid her head, as he gaily greeted Ginny, before lowering his voice. "It's showtime!" Harry said, his eyes glimmering with amusement and satisfaction.

It was Harry's first real plan, after all, and he watched carefully (while engaging in a lively conversation with Ginny) as Hermione strode over to talk with Neville. As he watched, Harry began to create alternate plans, some simpler, some vastly more complex. He idly wondered if there was any way he could get Draco Malfoy to ask to join the Defense Association... Then, Harry simply shook his head. As Snape had said, it didn't matter if Malfoy said yes or not, just that he was asked first. Further proof that Slytherins were just plain weird.

*watercolors, naturally.

[a/n: Snape often finds Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs unintelligible too, and not just because half of them come with a pronounced stammer in his presence.

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