The Curse | Harry Potter x reader | under editing

chapter nine• relations ☆

Many ideas were tossed around but once Ron mentioned butterbeer, everyone seemed to be in agreement. The wind was violent and sharp, your hands had gone numb and nose was red as Rudolph's, Harry's hands were as cold as ice. He had accidentally brushed your wrist when adjusting his shirt, causing you to shiver violently. They crossed the snow covered icy road, within a few minutes you arrived at the tiny inn.

It was crowded and smoky in the homey inn, but warm and cozy as well. A woman with a tattered apron was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar. "That's Madam Rosemerta, I'll go get the drinks yeah?" Said Ron, his face flushing slightly red.

The three friends; You, Hermione, and Harry made their way to the back of the room, there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying four foaming tankards of hot butterbeer. "Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.
You raised yours back and drank deeply, as did Harry. It was the most delicious thing you'd ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of you from the inside, you could tell from the relief on his face Harry's did too.

A sudden breeze ruffled everyone's hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. Harry looked over the rim of his tankard and choked, nudging you, who had been sitting next to him.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak -- Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

In an instant, Ron and Hermione had both placed hands on the top of either of your heads and forced you off your stools and under the table. Dripping with butterbeer and crouching out of sight, Harry clutched his empty tankard and you shirt dragging you down with him. Both peered under the legs of the table and watched the teachers' and Fudge's feet move toward the bar, pause, then turn and walk right toward you both.

Somewhere above you, Hermione whispered, Mobiliarbus!" The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of their table, hiding them from view. Staring through the dense lower branches, You saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighs If the teachers and minister as they sat down.

Next Harry saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice. "A small gillywater -"

"Mine," said Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead --"

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella --"

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

"Thank you Rosmerta dear." Fudge said looking hungrily at the glass. "Lovely to see you, say why don't you have yourself one and join us?" Fudge continued.

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

You and Harry watched the glittering heels march away and back again. Harry's heart was pounding uncomfortably in his throat. You could almost hear it beating. Why hadn't it occurred to either of you that this was the last weekend of term for the teachers too. And how long were they going to sit there?