“Harry!” Hermione called as Harry Potter rushed towards the lake at a full run. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Harry’s eyes darted quickly to Hermione, but then found themselves looking again at the girl as she bobbed precariously in the water. “Help…” she cried out in a gurgle. “Me…snake…” Upon getting those words out of her mouth, she was pulled back underwater.
“I have to save her!” Harry declared as he hastily removed his socks and shoes and prepared to go into the water.
“Harry, you’re not thinking!” Hermione declared as if it was the eighth deadly sin. “You can’t use magic, remember?! How are you going to fight whatever’s down there?”
“If it’s a snake, I can talk to it,” Harry said as he launched himself into the water. “I’m a parselmouth, rememb…gurk!” Harry was jerked suddenly underwater by something strong and slimy. He thought he heard Hermione yell out his name again, but it seemed faint and distant, as if a thousand miles away. It was dark down here, much too dark to see and all of the brilliantly heroic things he imagined he might do to the beast flew quickly out of his mind. Harry’s hand tugged at the serpentine body encircling him, but the effort only seemed to make it constrict tighter. He attempted to speak parseltongue, but only useless bubbles of air came out of his mouth. Trying another tactic, Harry kicked violently at where he imagined the snake’s head to be, as he felt the last of the air in his lungs give out and he suddenly became very lightheaded.
However, instead of hitting the snake, Harry’s feet seemed to touch the bottom of the lake. He felt a jolt all through his body, as if he were suddenly coming alive. Bright light registered in his eyes as they widened at the sight before him: dozens of dead bodies, drifting along the bottom, appearing to look at him with haunted and accusing eyes. Feeling mysteriously strengthened, Harry caught sight of the girl and the large sea serpent’s head, then with one bound grabbed them both and surfaced.
As Harry felt sweet air flow in and out of his lungs for the first time in over a minute, he spoke frantically in parseltongue to the snake, who took a lot of persuading before it decided not to try to kill the young blonde he had jumped in to save (not to mention Harry himself). With an angry hiss, the serpent disappeared below the surface, leaving Harry and the young woman alone, floating in the water. “Are you alright?” Harry asked. When the girl, who still seemed to be in shock, nodded in the affirmative, Harry guided her to the shore and the two soggy teenagers walked around shakily, as if getting their land legs back.
Harry suddenly realized in somewhat of a panic that Hermione was nowhere around. His eyes darted frantically around the mysterious lake, searching for any sign of her. ‘What a stupid prat I am if I jumped in the water to save some stranger and let something horrible happen to Hermione.’ Harry was just imagining what horrific things some Death Eater might be doing to her when he caught sight of her large brown, bushy hair moving through the trees in front of them. He should have known that nothing tragic had befallen her, as she was a very capable witch. A smile crossed Harry’s face as he made out her concerned visage, but a look of confusion soon replaced it as he noticed she wasn’t alone.
The first person he saw with her was a large, older man who put Harry in mind of Hagrid, striding along right beside her. Unlike Hagrid, however, his hair was gray, curly and neatly quaffed, his face was clean-shaven and his chiseled features made him look like nothing so much as a contented gargoyle. He could hardly miss the next new face that was traveling in the pack with Hermione, as its male owner rushed quickly towards the two of them. For a moment Harry thought he would be in for a fight, but as he drew closer it became clear that it was the girl he was interested in. “Violet!” he cried out and pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank goodness you’re safe! When that girl told me you were in danger, I…I…”
As ‘Violet’ assured the young man that she was alright, Harry cast an appreciative glance at Hermione. She smiled back at him as she came near. “I went for help,” she explained, as if Harry hadn’t already figured this out. As she came closer, Hermione whispered to him so that the others couldn’t hear, “That was a very brave thing you did, Harry. Stupid and dangerous too, of course, but brave.”
Harry moved to where Violet and the young man who he presumed to be her boyfriend were standing. Violet looked up into Harry’s eyes. “You saved my life,” she declared breathily. Harry only grinned somewhat shyly in response. He was a little surprised, however, when fear and confusion registered in her eyes. “You… you talked to that snake, didn’t you?” she asked, her American accent apparent for the first time.
“Of course,” Harry started to answer without thinking. “I’m a…”
“Snake charmer,” Hermione finished for him quickly while casting a pointed glance back at Harry. “We’ve spent several summers in India together and he has a very unusual affinity for snakes. The maharaja who taught him said he was the most exceptionally talented snake charmer he’d seen in generations.”
“Well then, thank goodness for summers in India,” the young man said with a broad smile. He looked Harry up and down and suddenly the young wizard realized how ridiculous he must look in his soaking wet clothes and bare feet. “Terry Nichten-Teach,” the man introduced himself. “And you are…?”
“Harry Potter,” the broad-shouldered man Harry had seen earlier answered for him. As his eyes turned to look at the strange, and strangely familiar-looking, man, he saw both Mr. Moseby and the brunette with purple streaks in her hair with whom he had been dancing out of the corner of his eye. They appeared to be holding back raucous fits of laughter, although it wasn’t clear what they thought was so funny.
“Er…yeah, that’s me,” Harry said in a low voice.
“Well, Harry Potter, it seems I am in your debt,” Terry said as he shook Harry’s hand fervently. Terry Nichten-Teach would have made a handsome young man, Harry thought, if only his nose weren’t so long and his ears weren’t so large. He looked a bit like Percy Weasley, come to think of it, only with curly brown hair instead of fiery red. “You’ve saved my girlfriend’s life. I don’t know how I can repay you…”
“Best not to try,” Harry replied modestly. Mr. Moseby and his female companion were openly laughing now, although Harry still couldn’t see the cause of it.
“Ah, but where are my manners,” Terry said as he cast a reproachful look at Mr. Moseby. Harry had just noticed with mild surprise that Terry, too, had some sort of American accent. “Harry Potter, these are my employees,” he added particular emphasis to that word, “Lloyd Moseby and Elmira Pinnix. You’ll have to excuse them. They have a very morbid sense of humor.” Lloyd and Elmira managed to hold a straight face for a few moments after his reproach, then promptly went back to snickering. “And I take it you two know each other,” Terry said of Harry and the large man standing next to him.
“Actually no,” Harry answered sheepishly as he reshaped his wet bangs in hopes of covering his scar. “We haven’t met. It’s, er, not a surprise that he recognizes me, though. In some circles, I am quite well known.”
The man looked at Harry as though he were a dung beetle. “Atlas Filch,” he announced, as if that explained everything.
Harry looked slightly dumbfounded. “Atlas Filch?! Are you related to Argus…”
At that point, after being unusually silent these last few moments, Hermione intervened. “So, Mr. Nichten-Teach, by the fact that you employ Mr. Moseby and Ms. Pinnix, can we assume that you are the proprietor of the Serpent’s Tooth?”
“Indeed,” Terry answered as the slight furrow that had found its way onto his brow began to disappear. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, Miss…?”
“Hermione Granger,” Hermione answered with a smile. “I’m Harry’s girlfriend.”
Harry shot her a confused glance, but after Hermione gave him a death gaze in reply, he chimed in quickly, seemingly just now remembering their cover story. “Right. She’s my girlfriend. Sorry about that.”
“You’re welcome to use my establishment any time you’d like,” Terry Nichten-Teach told Harry and Hermione with a benevolent look on his face. “Including now. I’m sure you’d like a few refreshments and the opportunity to change clothes. You can even borrow some of mine, if you’d like.”
“That would be nice,” Hermione answered him as if it were only natural for him to make the offer. “But Harry already has a change of clothes.” She then held up the bag with Dudley’s hand-me-down suit in it. Harry could only manage a groan in response.
***
The weekend flew by faster than Harry Potter would have thought possible, considering that he was still spending his mornings and nights with the Dursleys at Privet Drive. Hermione had been picking him up every morning, he had been practicing quidditch (fastest time to getting the snitch thus far: one hour, forty minutes and Harry was bound and determined to break that time) and then they had been spending more time together in London, mostly with their newfound friends and decidedly overeager hosts, Terry Nichten-Teach and Violet Mogle. Terry had just recently come into possession of the Serpent’s Tooth upon his father’s death and was still changing it around so that it was more suitable to his tastes, including catering to a younger crowd. (Apparently that had been why Lloyd Moseby had been so keen on letting Hermione and himself in the day they first saw the place.)
Harry very much enjoyed the company of his new friends, as he had never spent much time with muggles who weren’t completely loathsome before. They seemed to live carefree lives and obsess over trivial matters, and although they didn’t know what grave danger they were in from the likes of Lord Voldemort, their naiveté somehow set Harry’s mind at ease. He felt comfortable in their presence in a way that he didn’t in the wizarding world. Of course, it helped that the single most calming force in his life at Hogwarts, Hermione, was there, too.
If Harry was being honest with himself, there was one other reason that he enjoyed spending so much time with Terry and Violet. He was suddenly uncomfortable spending time alone with Hermione. They had nearly kissed at the lake, and Harry got the feeling it kind of freaked Hermione out. She had been the one to stop it from actually happening, after all and whenever Harry had tried to talk to her about it afterwards, she had just changed the subject. ‘Way to go, Potter,’ Harry thought bitterly. ‘In one day, you manage to make things awkward with the only friend you can spend time with this summer.’
To make their relationship possibly more strained than it already was, the Grangers had insisted on having dinner with Harry tonight, and possibly every Monday night to come if they hit it off. Harry was already imagining doomsday scenarios where he and Hermione barely spoke to each other throughout the evening and her parents were left to wonder if the two of them were really even friends. The pretend dates would stop, Harry would be stuck at the Dursleys for the remainder of the summer and boredom and frustration would ensue, just like last year.
Harry Potter resolved then and there to make things right with Hermione. Not only was it in his own self-interest, but he owed it to the strong friendship the two of them had built over the years to get things out in the open. ‘If Hermione wants to be with Ron, I’m not going to stand in her way,’ he resolved. His actions that night were still a mystery to him, but he soon blamed it on his sense of isolation and fear after Sirius’ death. ‘I shouldn’t worry about losing Ron and Hermione as friends if they start dating,’ Harry falsely assured himself. ‘We’ve been inseparable for years. This won’t change anything.’
Even though Hermione wasn’t picking him up this morning, as the Grangers had decided that Mondays would be their day to spend with their daughter, Harry had plenty enough to busy himself with. Moody’s threat to Vernon Dursley notwithstanding, he had a lot of chores to do around the house, normally twice as many as Dudley (although his cousin was forced to do them when he was out with Hermione, a thought which filled Harry with glee). The time until Hermione would pick him up for dinner with the Grangers seemed to drag very slowly as Harry washed the dishes, cleaned out the pantry and did some gardening in the front yard. ‘House elf work,’ Harry thought with resentment, although Hermione would surely have chastised him for thinking so.
Finally, after hours of toil and sweat, his Aunt Petunia gave him permission to take an hour to get ready for the big date. As Harry showered and changed into some nice clothes that actually fit him this time, thanks to Violet and Terry’s idea to go clothes shopping on Saturday, he went over some things he might say to Hermione once she was here. As he rehearsed some practice conversations, nothing sounded quite right. Plus, Dudley overheard him and he had to quickly make up a lie and say he was preparing for his role in a Hogwarts production of The Winter’s Tale. (Harry had found a collection of Shakespeare’s works and had discovered a play that featured a character named Hermione, a fact which he found rather amusing.) Dudley teased him about it anyway.
As time seemed to fly forward at breakneck speed, Harry soon found himself answering the door and being ushered outside by the hand by Hermione. After a few seconds, Hermione released his hand as if she had just been instructed by a professor to drop it. “Ready to go?” she asked somewhat shyly.
“Not quite,” Harry answered with quiet assurance. “We need to talk.”
Hermione nodded briskly but didn’t meet his eyes. “Of course,” she whispered. “I knew this was coming.”
Harry raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. Maybe he wouldn’t have to go through any of his painfully rehearsed dialogue after all. But just how much did this girl know about what he was thinking? Suddenly resuming Occlumency lessons with Snape sounded like a pretty good idea. “You did?”
“I’m not stupid, you know,” Hermione replied indignantly. Harry did his best not to smile. If there was anything in this world that he knew, it was that Hermione wasn’t stupid. “I saw the way you looked at her all this weekend. And the way she looks at you, like you’re her knight in shining armour… You want to be with Violet, don’t you?”
Harry felt as though he had been kicked in the chest by a centaur. Why in the world would Hermione ever think that he would be interested in Violet? He had just met her! The idea struck him as so ludicrous that he could no longer keep an amused smile from his face. “Hermione…” he started.
But she wouldn’t let him finish. “It’s OK, Harry. I understand.” Hermione did her best to shoot him a sympathetic look, but only managed a slightly sad one. “She is very pretty and boys do like that, you know, at least I think they do and you did save her life so she’s bound to be appreciative…”
“Stop,” Harry insisted, as he fought off nervous laughter. “Please. Before you hurt yourself, stop.” Harry put his right index finger on her lips without really realizing it. “I don’t want to date Violet. I wanted to talk about us…on Friday night…down by the lake…”
Hermione met Harry’s nervous blathering with a relieved expression on her face as Harry’s finger slipped gently off of her mouth. “Oh, that. It was my fault. You were vulnerable and my teenage hormones were on parade. If it makes you feel strange, though…”
“It doesn’t,” Harry said, although he wasn’t entirely sure if this were true or not. What he was sure of was that everything was now pretty close to being right with Hermione and he wasn’t about to ruin that. His own amusement was an unstoppable force spreading across his face. “Did you really think that I fancied Violet? For goodness sakes, Hermione, she already has a boyfriend.”
As Hermione climbed onto the moped, an infectious grin curled up around her mouth. “Well, I didn’t think Terry would be much competition for you. He looks a great deal like Percy Weasley, don’t you think? And he knows just a little too much about men’s fashions.” Before Harry could comment on what Hermione was implying both about Terry Nichten-Teach and Percy Weasley, the moped roared rapidly towards the Granger house.