MILLIES POV
"Harry, it shouldn't be taking you this long!"
That evening, I found myself curled up on the sofa in the common room beside Mione. Harry, Ron, Dean and Neville were all sat in armchairs around us. Harry had spent the past two hours writing the letter to my parents. The boys kept suggesting things to write, but they were all useless.
"I'm nearly done," Harry mumbled, leaning over the table to grab some more parchment. Ron, Dean, Neville and Seamus were now stood around him, advising him on what to write.
"...okay, now say - 'I defeated You-Know-Who, so I can defeat you easily'-"
"I'm not going to write that, Ron," Harry said, shaking his head at his friend. Ron frowned, thinking again.
Dean gasped. "How about - 'I'll give you fifty galleons if you don't kill me'-"
"No!" Mione snapped, slamming her book shut and therefore making all the boys jump. "Goodness, you're all terrible at this. I feel awful for whoever has to date any of you in the future."
"Has to?" Harry repeated. "Has to? Look at us - whoever dates us will be lucky." He sent me a smirk, to which I rolled my eyes.
Ron, Seamus and Dean nodded, nudging each other, but Neville turned bright pink.
"Harry," he said quietly, "just write honestly."
Seamus frowned. "What's the word honestly going to do, Neville-"
"No, I mean write how he truly feels," Neville said. "Say how much you like Millie, say how beautiful you think she is..."
I smiled at the boy, who carried on listing acceptable things to write. My eyes landed on Harry, who was staring at me with his famous lop-sided grin.
And then it hit me.
"Harry!" I cried, jumping up.
Harry stood up too, worry clouding his eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Snape!"
Harry stared at me expectantly.
"Snape!" I repeated desperately. "You've got detention! DETENTION WITH SNAPE!"
Harry swore loudly as the realisation dawned over him, grabbing the unfinished letter and stuffing it into his pocket. He threw his arms around me tightly, before jumping over the armchair and leaving the common room.
Our group was silent for a second, before we all burst out laughing. Mione shook her head disapprovingly.
"Your Dad won't have to kill him anymore, Millie," Ron said, wiping his tears as I sat back down, "Snape is about to do it for him."
"What did Professor Lupin want to talk to you about earlier, by the way, Millie?" Mione asked me.
"About my Boggart," I replied. "It was nothing important," I added, as all the boys turned to me with curious expressions.
Seamus sighed happily. "That was a wicked lesson. Did you see me take that banshee?"
"And the hand!" said Dean, waving his own.
Neville grinned. "And Snape in that hat!"
"It was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ron excitedly.
"He seems a very good teacher," said Mione approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the Boggart-"
"What would it have been for you?" said Ron, sniggering. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~
But thankfully, Snape didn't murder Harry, who came back with another detention, but that was all. He also managed to finish the letter to my parents, and nervously posted it a day later. I was anxious now, too, as he had refused to let me read it. The Gryffindor boys has insisted that it was fine, but after hearing their suggestions on what Harry should write, I wasn't too sure. I just hoped that my parents replied soon - I wanted to kiss Harry again.
In no time at all, Defence Against the Dark Arts had become my favourite class. Only Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin.
"Look at the state of his robes," Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Lupin passed. "He dresses like our old house-elf."
But no one else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed. His next lessons were just as interesting as the first. After Boggarts, we studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed. From Red Caps we moved on to Kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys.
I only wished I was as happy with some of my other classes. Worst of all was Potions. Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt why. The story of the Boggart assuming Snape's shape, and the way that Neville had dressed it in his grandmother's clothes had travelled through the school like wildfire. Unlike me, Snape didn't seem to find it funny. His eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Lupin's name, and he was bullying Neville worse than ever.
I was also growing to dread the hours I spent in Professor Trelawney's stifling tower room, deciphering lop-sided shapes and symbols. I couldn't like Professor Trelawney, even though she was treated with respect bordering on reverence by many of the class. Parvati and Lavender had taken to haunting Professor Trelawney's tower room as lunchtimes, and always returned with annoyingly superior looks on their faces, as though they knew things the rest of us didn't.
Unfortunately, nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. We were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after Flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.
"Why would anyone bother looking after them?" said Ron, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the Flobberworm's slimy throats.
At the start of October, however, I had something else to occupy me, something so enjoyable that it made up for not being able to kiss Harry. The Quidditch season was approaching, and Oliver called a meeting one Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season.
There was a quiet sort of desperation in his voice as he addressed his six fellow team members in the chilly changing rooms.
"This is out last chance - my last chance - to win the Quidditch Cup," he said, striding up and down in front of us. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it. Gryffindor haven't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world - injuries - then the tournament getting called off last year..." Oliver swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. "But we also know that we've got the best - ruddy - team - in - the - school," he said loudly, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye. "We've got three superb Chasers."
Oliver pointed at Angelina, Katie and I. I sent him a wink, which made Harry grab my hand warningly. He was doing this a lot recently, and he had already told me that he deeply regretted the decision of no kissing. But of course, me being my stubborn self, had insisted we wait for my parents reply - though I was almost certain my Dad was delaying it on purpose.
Oliver continued, "We've got two unbeatable Beaters."
"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George together, as I slapped Harry's hand so he would let go.
"And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Oliver rumbled, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride. "And me," he added, as an afterthought.
"We think you're very good, Oliver," said George.
"Cracking Keeper," Fred agreed.
"The point is," Oliver went on, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry and Millie joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..."
Oliver spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic.
"Oliver, this year's our year," I said determinedly.
"We'll do it, Oliver!" said Angelina.
"Definitely," said Harry, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me into a tight hug.
Full of determination, the team started training sessions three evenings a week. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker, but no amount of mud, wind or rain could tarnish my wonderful vision of finally winning the huge silver Quidditch Cup.
I returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after training alone, cold and stiff but pleased with the way practice had gone. Harry had run off to the Owlery once again to check if Hedwig had brought him any letters.
I stepped through the portrait hole to find the room buzzing excitedly.
"What's happened?" I asked Ron and Mione, who were sitting in two of the best chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy.
"First Hogsmeade weekend," Ron told me, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old noticeboard. "End of October - Halloween."
"Excellent," said Fred, who had followed me through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonkos's, I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."
I threw myself into an armchair beside Ron, as Mione said, "It's a shame Harry won't be able to come, isn't it?"
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"His family didn't sign the form, did they?" Mione said. "He has no permission. Besides, with Sirius Black on the loose, I doubt the school would let him anyway..."
My high spirits disappeared instantly. Mione seemed to read my mind.
"But I'm sure he'll be able to go next time," Mione said, smiling reassuringly. "They're bound to catch Black soon, he's been sighted once already."
"Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," said Ron, nodding his head. "Harry could even ask McGonagall if he could go this time, the next one might not be for ages-"
"Ron!" Mione exclaimed. "Harry's supposed to stay in school-"
"He can't be the only third-year left behind..."
I grinned. "He probably will ask Minnie if someone gives him the idea-"
"MILLS!"
Half of the Gryffindors turned to look in the direction of the shout; Harry was clambering through the portrait hole, waving something in the air and beaming.
"Donovan!" He was running so fast that he stumbled slightly.
"Potter, wha-"
Harry grabbed my hand and pulled me up, slamming his lips onto mine and kissing me passionately. The room immediately erupted with howls and whistles, but I could barely hear them; all I could concentrate on was the boy holding me close, his warm arms wrapping even further around my waist.
We finally pulled away, gasping for breath, both smiling like maniacs. I glanced down at the parchment in his hands.
"Is that?" I began, looking from the letter to Harry. "Please say it's-"
"Your Dad's reply!" Harry said, nodding frantically.
I gasped. "What did they say?"
"Mills." Harry laughed, cupping my cheeks with his hands. "Do you really think I would've kissed you like that in front of everyone if your Dad was on his way to duel me?"
"No-"
"Actually," Harry interrupted thoughtfully, removing his touch. "I probably would've kissed you, if it was the last time I was going to see you-"
"Harry." I giggled, taking the parchment from his hand. "So he's not coming to duel you?"
Harry smirked. "Look for yourself."
I bit my lip nervously, looking down at the letter and reading:
Hi Harry,
Can't say this was much of a shock. I always knew Millie had a little crush on you. Though she would kill me for saying this, just the way she talks about you gives it away. In your First year, Ruby and I would get letters home like 'Harry Potter is really annoying, you were wrong', and 'I don't see what the big fuss about Potter is'. But then the letters began to change as the months went on. 'Potter and I couldn't stop laughing', then, 'Harry helped me with my homework'. But what gave it away most of all, was when she said, 'Harry made me happy again'.
And if Millie's happy, then I'm happy.
I respect you, mini Potter, so I'm going to be honest with you. When I first read your letter, I was hesitant about letting my little girl have a boyfriend. Ruby spoke some sense into me, and I eventually re-read the letter. I could tell instantly that you like my daughter a lot, and if what you say is true, your relationship is pure. I'm not going to be the one to stop that.
Because let's be real, Millie takes after me - she would do it with or without my permission.
So if you ARE going to do this, then I want a set of rules:
1) Absolutely NO sleeping in the same bed.
2) You are always welcome at our house - but I'm afraid you're not allowed to stay in the same room as her.
3) Limit the kissing to an absolute minimum.
4) You may hold her hand if she wants.
5) Follow all the rules.
I have sent a full list of rules by a Ministry Owl too, so make sure you read them. I will also know if you've been following them - I have a friend at Hogwarts. He has agreed, with some persuasion, to be my personal spy.
I want to thank you for writing to me first. I trust you, mini Potter, and this just proved to me even more how much of a nice young man you are. But I expect you to keep your hands off my daughter.
It's only because it's you that I'm saying this, but I'm happy for you and Millie.
I'm proud of you, son, and your Dad would be too.
Love,
Jake
P.S. Ruby is currently running around the house, screaming with happiness. If Millie ever gets like this, (all women do), please don't hesitate to owl me. I'm always here to talk.
P.S.S. I'm an Auror - bare that in mind :)
P.S.S.S. I'm writing this last bit quickly, because Ruby would tell me off if she saw me writing this - Millie told me about how Snape gave you a detention for being late to the original detention. If that was me, I'd tell that greasy slime ball to do one. If he opens his mouth to give you another one, I recommend the charm 'langlock'. That would shut him up - quite literally, as it sticks the persons tongue to the roof of there mouth. I had a lot of fun with this in my time at Hogwarts.
P.S.S.S.S. Have I mentioned I'm an Auror?
I let out a long breath I hadn't even realised I had been holding in, before dropping the letter completely and throwing my arms around Harry's neck.
"I knew it," Harry said, pressing his forehead against mine. "I knew Jake and I would be best mates."