Summary: Everyone wants a glimpse of the Chosen One; Harry just wants his Wheezy
Hundreds of eyes followed Harry as he was escorted through the barrier, many of them shifting to Sirius as he stepped through after him.
"Have a safe term, okay?" he said, gripping Harry's shoulder. "And be careful around Malfoy."
"I will," said Harry. Sirius had promised to bring the matter up to the Order, so he felt a little better knowing someone was taking it seriously.
He got onto the train and found Ginny chatting with some friends.
"Hey, Ginny," he said, ignoring everybody else. "Fancy trying to find a compartment?"
"Sure." She shot a sidelong glance at the people whose faces were squashed against the glass. "A bit strange, isn't it?"
"Oh, I'll get used to it. Not that I have a choice." He did, after all, manage to tolerate it when the attention was negative.
None of that prepared him for a fourth-year girl to push the compartment door open, her friends peering over her shoulder.
"Hi, Harry, I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane," she said, pushing her long black hair back. "Why don't you join us in our compartment for a bit?" In a stage whisper, she added, "You'll be back before Weasley gets here."
The confidence in her voice made Harry bristle. "Not interested," he said coldly.
"Oh." Romilda looked taken aback. "Oh. Okay." And she and her friends retreated.
"If only they could see you and Ron sleeping together," said Neville, who had joined them moments earlier with Luna. "Honestly, I don't think I could even stick a quill between you."
Harry felt his cheeks warm up. "Are we that bad?"
Neville shrugged, grinning a little. "It's kinda cute, actually. Especially compared to Seamus and Dean."
Harry and Ginny laughed.
The next thing that happened was Harry and Neville being invited to compartment C by Professor Slughorn.
They both left their compartment and headed through the train, past the staring and whispering, and into compartment C, where they found a few other students.
"Harry, m'boy!" Slughorn said warmly. "Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom!"
Neville nodded, exchanging a wary glance with Harry. They sat down opposite of each other.
"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked. "Blaise Zabini is in your year, of course —"
Zabini did not make any indication he recognized Harry or Neville.
"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other —? No?"
Harry looked at the large, wiry-haired boy and nodded politely.
"— and this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether —?"
Harry thought he may have seen his face before, but only briefly.
The lunch went just as Harry had suspected: Slughorn had brought in those connected with famous people. Harry because of... well, everything with him and Neville because his parents had been Aurors.
"I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?" Slughorn said to McLaggen.
"Oh, yeah, that was fun, that was." McLaggen spoke in a confident tone not unlike Romilda Vane. "We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour — this was before he became Minister, obviously —"
Ron should be back by now, Harry thought miserably. The food was nice, but it would be better if he were sharing it with people he knew and liked, which only Neville fit in.
He absently looked around to Cormac and was slightly unnerved to see him staring right back. Okay, that did it.
"Professor?" Harry broke in as Slughorn started to go on about the most recent summer with all the rumors regarding the Ministry. "I don't feel so well. May I be excused?"
"Oh." Slughorn looked very disappointed. "I suppose so. Ate too fast?"
"That's it," Harry agreed, even though he had eaten the least of the group. "It was very lovely, thank you. Good-bye."
He made his escape and walked briskly along the corridor past the staring. Romilda Vane tried to speak to him again, but Harry kept walking.
Ron sat up abruptly as Harry practically burst inside the compartment. "I thought you were just gonna have lunch with Slughorn, you've been gone for hours."
"You look troubled," Luna noted, still wearing her Spectrespecs.
"Are you okay?" Ron said, sounding much like his mother in an instant.
"Yeah, I'm fine." No need to mention McLaggen. Harry was probably just imagining things. "Slughorn just wanted to meet students that are related to influential wizards."
Ron and Hermione grimaced. They knew very well Harry would do anything to give up his fame.
"It can't have been that bad," Hermione said. "I'm sure Professor Slughorn was just... enthusiastic."
"That's putting it lightly," Harry muttered. He felt Ron wrap an arm over his shoulders and leaned in instinctively.
"Cheer up. We'll be at Hogwarts before you know, so we'll have other stuff to focus on."
It was twilight by the time Neville came back.
"Did I miss anything interesting?" Harry asked, curious despite himself.
"Not really, just a bunch of stuff about wizards he taught and the 'Slug Club.'"
"'Slug Club'?" Harry repeated as if this were news, getting a fresh image of their second year when Ron vomited slugs.
"Yes, he said to tell you to expect an invitation." Neville shrugged. "You're not planning on...?"
"No," Harry said emphatically, and Neville fell silent.
By the time they reached Hogwarts and then the common room, Harry was exhausted. Between avoiding the blatant staring and Cormac McLaggen's hulking frame, he just wanted to sleep. Preferably with Ron.
"You're extra touchy tonight," Ron remarked as Harry wriggled into his arms almost as soon as they both put their pajamas on. "I'm not complaining, you know how much I love this, but are you sure you're all right?"
Harry sighed, feeling guilty. He couldn't hide it forever, and it was nice being able to talk to someone. "One of the people Slughorn invited was staring at me funny."
Ron's arm tightened around him. "Who?"
"Cormac McLaggen. He's a seventh year in our house."
Ron scrunched up his nose slightly. "Is he that big guy that always has his nose up in the air?"
"Yes. And I wish it had stayed up."
"Oh. Well, luckily you have me here if he bothers you further."
Harry smiled. Why did he think for even one second not to tell Ron? "Thank you."
"There's no need to thank me," Ron said, kissing him.
Harry pressed up even further against his side and let sleep claim him.
The next morning was no different in terms of gossip. They weren't subtle, either, which made it all the more worse.
"It's rude to point," Ron snapped at a first year, who jumped in fright.
Hermione confiscated a Fanged Frisbee from a passing fourth year, who scowled and stormed out after his friends. Ron tugged it out of her hands.
"Excellent, I've always wanted one of these."
Hermione began to remonstrate him, but Harry hardly heard her. Cormac McLaggen was walking toward them.
"Let's go," Harry said. "I'm starving."
Ron, having seen McLaggen, agreed, but Hermione looked indignant. It wasn't until they were situated in the Great Hall and Harry had explained did she lose the look.
"I'm sure he just wanted to talk to you," she said reasonably.
"Hermione, the guy was staring at him like... well, it wasn't good," Ron said.
Hermione frowned. "Well, maybe he got the hint and will leave you alone."
Harry didn't speak, but he had his doubts. After all, he had thought the same thing after he left compartment C, but he had been wrong then. Hopefully, Hermione was right this time.
They all headed down for Defense Against the Dark Arts mid-morning. Harry's anger at Snape being their professor for the class hadn't abated. In fact, it just rose as Snape spoke.
"You will now divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."
It was harder than it looked. Ron had to press his lips together to keep from uttering a word. Nearby, Hermione managed to succeed in repelling Neville's Jelly-Legs Jinx without speaking. Snape had turned away conveniently at that moment and didn't see it. He instead focused his attention on Ron.
Stupefy, Ron thought. Nothing happened. Stupefy! Harry remained standing, wand poised. "Stupe —" He pressed his lips more tightly together.
"Pathetic, Weasley," said Snape. "Here — let me show you —"
He turned his wand on Harry.
"Protego!" Harry shouted.
Snape lurched sideways into a desk. The class looked round as he righted himself back up.
"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry stiffly.
"Yes sir."
"There's no need to call me 'sir', Professor."
Ron's eyes went wide.
And that, my friends, is how they got engaged. Just kidding.. unless...?