Another Weasely? (A Harry Potter Love Story)✔ #Wattys2016

The Hog's Head

"Why do we have to do it outside school?" Me and Ron asked.

"Because," said Hermione, returning to the diagram of the Chinese Chomping Cabbage she was copying, "I don't think Umbridge would be very happy if she found out what we were up to."

When Harry continued to look worried, I said, "Listen, we three have been sounding out people who we thought might want to learn some proper Defense Against the Dark Arts, and there are a couple who seem interested. We've told them to meet us in Hogsmeade."

"Right," said Harry vaguely.

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione said quietly. "You've got enough on your plate."

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The morning of the Hogsmeade visit dawned bright but windy. After breakfast they queued up in front of Filch, who matched their names to the long list of students who had permission from their parents or guardian to visit the village.

When Harry reached Filch, the caretaker gave a great sniff as though trying to detect a whiff of something from Harry. Then he gave a curt nod that set his jowls aquiver again and us four walked on, out onto the stone steps and the cold, sunlit day. "Er - why was Filch sniffing you?" asked Ron, as we four set off at a brisk pace down the wide drive to the gates.

"I suppose he was checking for the smell of Dungbombs," said Harry with a small laugh. "I forgot to tell you . . ."

And Harry began to tell that he was there a second later after someone had set off dungbombs in the charms corridor.

"Umm.... It was Fred, George and me Harry." I said with a slight blush on my cheeks.

And that set those three laughing and after a while i joined in the laughter.

I couldn't help but notice Harry's gaze was on me a lot longer that those two. Does he have a acrush on me? He could'nt have, could he? I mean, there was Cho, who was so much more prettier, and Ginny!

We walked between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars and turned left onto the road into the village, the wind whipping their hair into their eyes.

"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. "The Three Broomsticks?"

"Oh - no," said Hermione "No, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit . . . you know . . . dodgy . . . but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard."

They walked down the main street past Zonko's Joke Shop, where they were unsurprised to see Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, past the post office, from which owls issued at regular intervals, and turned up a side street at the top of which stood a small inn. A battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture upon it of a wild boar's severed head leaking blood onto the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. All three of them hesitated outside the door.

"Well, come on," I said slightly nervously. Harry led the way inside. It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy, and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be earthy, though as Harry stepped onto it he realized that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.