"Alright, Buh-Harry," Penny said sternly. "Let's hear it. What did Malfoy want?"
Olive and Amelia looked at each other in confusion.
"It was just an invite to their annual Yule Ball." He shrugged.
They waited.
"And?!" Olive prompted impatiently. "What did you say?"
"I accepted," he said simply.
He was startled by the overlapping questions and their gradually increasing pitch. "What is wrong with you guys? It's just an invitation!"
"To the Malfoy Yule Ball, Kitten!" Olive said excitedly. "It's the social event of the year!"
"You'll look smashing in dress robes!" Amelia said happily.
Boy's eyes bulged. "I don't have any!"
Penny snorted. "You still have time to buy some, Buh-Harry. It isn't the end of the world."
Buy some? With what money?
He bit his lip, trying to figure out how to make some more money. What little he had was already spent on Christmas gifts for his friends and their boy/girlfriends. "My father isn't fond of Lord Malfoy," he said, happy that he was able to call Sir his father without stumbling. "I'll need to come up with the money on my own. Can you guys help me schedule more people for the 'salon'? I don't have a match this weekend." He gave them puppy dog eyes and stuck out his lower lip.
"Kitten," Amelia snorted. "You're pretty much booked. The only way to get more people would be to open up shop a couple hours early. You might be good, but you also need to sleep sometime."
"Yeah," Olive agreed. "You're already in the Great Hall for breakfast by exactly seven on the weekends. Those days are supposed to be for sleeping in."
Boy felt guilty. "You all get up early to have breakfast with me, don't you? Even though you want to sleep in? That isn't necessary at all. I've always gotten up around dawn, but there's no reason for you to do the same!" That may not have been completely true, but... well, it is now. Back in his attic, he did wake up briefly when the sun came through the window, but he usually went back to sleep for another two or three hours. Here, he was up at dawn out of necessity.
"Mornings do suck," Amelia smirked. "But we like hanging out with you more."
Penny and Olive nodded.
"Besides," Penny said, tugging her hair into a ponytail. "It'll be good practice for next year, since we won't have classes together, Mr. Boy Genius."
This time, his pout was real. He hated thinking about next year. There was no way he wouldn't do his best on the OWLs, but he just wasn't thrilled with the idea of advancing beyond them. On the other hand, it would be nice to learn some new things. But was it really worth not having his friends nearby?
"Whatever you're thinking," Olive said, catching his attention. "Quit it. You're too cute to look so sad."
He smiled. It would be okay. His friends would make sure of it.
Sir, (he couldn't bring himself to say 'dear')
The consent form must be filled out by tomorrow, or they won't let me stay.
H.P.
Short and to the point. There was no need to write out a long winded letter to Sir, other than to waste precious ink.
Catching up with Amelia, he asked her to show him where the owlery was so he could send his note. He couldn't call it a letter, and he didn't particularly mind.
"Sure," she said sweetly. "Come on, Kitten."
In the end, she had to let Bear carefully carry him up the ice-slicked stairs.
"Do you know how long it would take to get a response all the way from London?" Boy asked, unsure.
She shrugged. "Depends, really. If you need a quick reply, you should pick one of these owls, as they're the fastest fliers. They'll be able to make it by tonight, and be back before sunrise."
From there, she showed him the tag system. Red tags meant that they were the fastest. Blue tags meant that they were the best for long trips. Yellow meant that they were only for local trips. Black tags were for heavier loads, and white meant letters only.
Each of the owls had two or three tags affixed to their legs, one or two colors, and the other tag was either black or white.
Boy picked a brown owl with a red tag as well as a white and a blue.
For his reply to Lord Malfoy, he chose an owl with a blue tag and a white. He had no idea where the Malfoy's lived, so he figured that a long-distance flier would be a safe bet.
"All done?" Amelia asked.
He nodded.
Boy was worried. What if Sir didn't get the permission form returned in time? What would he do? He'd already sent his confirmation to Lord Malfoy. What if Sir refused to let him go?
Crossing his fingers, he went to bed. He would find out in the morning either way.
When the owls swooped down en mass, Boy's stomach clenched in fear and anticipation. He watched and waited, and eventually, the Malfoy falcon dropped a letter in front of him, then dropped another in front of the Malfoy scion.
Boy waited to read the letter, just like last time. He needed that note from Sir.
But there was no return owl. He wasn't going to be allowed to stay over break. What was he going to do? There was no way that he was going to be able to go to the Malfoy ball now!
He wasn't sure how long he was scratching his arms before he realized he was doing it at all. Clenching his fists a few times, he left his plate and sighed. If he was going to make it to class on time, he had to leave soon.
To his right, Bear leapt up and growled, reaching over Boy's head.
Jerking in surprise, Boy saw a large pot of steaming porridge being tugged out of the air by his Wyhound's massive jaws.
Sighing, Boy got up from his seat, letting Bear enjoy the puddle of porridge that fell to the floor. It was okay. He knew the house elves cleaned the castle very well.
Mr. Potter,
My wife and I were most pleased to receive your confirmation to our annual Yule Ball. Enclosed, you will find the floo address. I must apologize for misplacing your invitation. We will be delighted to host you on December 24th, at six pm.
Many happy regards,
---Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy
Boy refolded the note and looked at his Wyhound. "What are we going to do, doggy? Sir will never let us attend, and I still haven't got enough money to purchase dress robes."
Bear let out a sad, high-pitched whine, then his ears perked up. Gently taking the note, he got down on the floor and waited.
"Are you taking me somewhere?" Boy asked.
Bear's barbed tail wagged, so Boy climbed onto his back.
Much to his surprise, he was being taken to the dungeons.
Stopping abruptly at the potions classroom door, he let Boy climb down and nudged the door open with his muzzle.
"Class does not begin for fifteen minutes!" The Potion's Master called out, his gaze never leaving the parchment on the mahogany desk.
"I'm sorry, sir." Boy said immediately. "I think Bear wanted to see you, actually." Even saying it sounded stupid.
Taking that as his queue, Bear pranced to the rack of phials and took two of them.
"Potter!" The professor snarled. "You will reign in your beast immediately!"
Not wanting to get into any kind of trouble, Boy did just that. "Bear, no!"
Bear let out a whine and set his goods down on the floor.
"I'm sorry, sir," Boy repeated. "I don't understand why-"
Letting out a huff, Bear let out his wings and horns.
Professor Snape gasped. "You have a Wyhound?"
"Yes, sir. I found out what he was a few days ago."
With astonishing precision, Bear popped the cork of one of the phials with his huge teeth. Then stuck the entire thing in his mouth.
"Bear!" Boy cried out, limping as fast as he could. "Spit it out!" He didn't want his doggy hurt on broken glass!
Shifting the phial in his teeth, Bear let it fill up with his slobber.
Crinkling his nose in disgust, Boy took the phial. "Why did you do that? It could have cut you!"
"A moment, Potter." The professor said quickly and faced Bear. "Wyhound, is that for me?"
His tail wagged, but he put a paw over the phial, not letting the man take it.
Professor Snape raised a brow. "Must I say 'please'?" He drawled sarcastically.
Bear shook his head, then bit down on the soft tissue of his wing. There was a horrible ripping noise, and a narrow strip of wing leather was hanging from his teeth.
Professor Snape stopped Boy from tending his doggy.
"What are you doing?" Boy asked, horrified. "He's hurting himself!"
"He is not hurting himself!" Came the exasperated retort. "So long as the tissue sample is freely given, it will repair itself. Now, cease your hysterics!"
Boy hadn't even realized he was crying, but stopped nonetheless.
"What was the second phial for, Wyhound?"
When Bear growled, Boy cut in. "Sir, I think he'd prefer you called him by his name."
As Bear's tail wagged, the professor rolled his eyes. "Bear was it?"
Bear woofed happily.
"Very well," he sneered. "Why do you need a second phial, Bear?"
Lifting a paw, Bear touched the spot just under his eye, then blinked several times.
"Tears as well?" The astonishment in his voice was clear.
While Bear wagged his tail, he snuffled at the Potion's Master's pocket, blocking his access to the drool and the wing sliver.
"There is nothing in there for you," he said, pushing the beast's muzzle away. Then it clicked. "You want money?" Of course a beast of Potter's would demand payment.
Bear's tail wagged again.
Knowing how expensive the ingredients were, the man sighed. "I am well aware of how much these ingr-items cost. I will agree to a discounted price. As it stands, all I have at the moment is approximately seventy-five percent of the cost."
Hesitating, Bear eventually moved to let the man take his spoils.
The professor held the second phial under Bear's eye and watched in clinical fascination as it filled. When that was corked, he dug around for a money pouch and extracted handfuls of gold, counting as he went.
Boy's eyes widened as the stacks grew.
"One hundred and fifty galleons, as agreed."
Boy gasped and looked at Bear as his letter was put back into his hands. He blinked. "You did that... for me?"
Woof and wag.
"Did I ever tell you that you are the greatest, bestest, sweetest doggy in the world?" He asked, scrubbing his knuckles behind Bear's floppy ears.
Bear's tongue lolled out the side of his mouth as he preened under the praise.
"Okay," Boy said happily. "Come on, then. We need to get to Ancient Runes in less than ten minutes!"
"Yes, Wyhound," the professor said without looking away from the phials. "Take your pet to class."
Boy's shoulders slumped slightly, but as soon as he was far enough from the room, he grinned broadly.
Even after Ancient Runes and Herbology, Boy was hugging the muscle-y neck of his familiar, and continued singing Bear praises.
"Aww," Olive said, rounding the corner. "What did Cuddles do to earn all the lovey dovey stuff? Or are you just being mushy for no reason?"
"Not that I need a reason," he said pompously. "But someone has been a very good doggy. He solved the little money problem I was having."
At that, she was lost. "What'd he do, rob Gringotts?"
Boy snorted. "'Course not. It was one of the professors. Anyway, about how much would a set of dress robes cost?"
Olive stared down Bear. "Did you really rob a teacher?"
Bear huffed, as if offended. He refused to look in her general direction again.
"I think you hurt his feelings, Olive." Boy giggled.
Wriggling awkwardly, she pulled something out of her pocket. "Will this help?" She asked Bear, waving... something in front of his muzzle.
"What is that?" Boy wondered aloud, inspecting the odd strip of what seemed to be some kind of dried meat. It wasn't any kind he'd ever seen before.
"Erumpent jerky," she said with a shrug. "Supposedly it's good for them. Something to do with the vitamins in their blood."
Boy's stomach grumbled.
"Sounds like it's time for grub for us too. Let's go find Amelia and Penelope and demolish a whole tray of chicken."
He nodded, but chicken wasn't too appealing. There were so many options that something would surely call to him.
True to his stomach, he didn't see any meats that appealed to him. They were all overcooked, so he had a bowl of fruit. He still couldn't identify them all, but he was getting better about it. As he figured, his tastes had developed since arriving, but it was still changing. He wasn't too bothered by it. Really, he just figured that he was bound to like almost everything, at least in the beginning. Up to October, he'd had some form of bread with every meal, but hasn't touched anything breadbased since. Breakfast and lunch were simple enough to deal with, as they had fruit, which he was quickly becoming obsessed with, but dinners were another problem all together. He was avoiding most meats, and he was only eating certain vegetables. Last night he'd only had a plate of asparagus, green beans and carrots.
For all of the things he had been eating, he could feel full, but never satisfied.
It might have taken him a while to realize it, but apparently he hadn't been the only one.
Professor Snape appeared next to him as he arrived early to potions. He did not look happy.
"Hello, sir," Boy said calmly, despite his racing heart.
"Tell me, Potter," Snape began, condescension clear in his silky voice. "As the first term is nearing its end, why have you not alerted myself or another member of staff to your dietary restrictions?"
"Restrictions?" He asked, confused.
"You are a vegetarian, are you not?"
What? "No, sir." He replied, brows knit. "I don't think so...?"
Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It means that you do not eat meat."
"Oh!" Boy said, relieved. "No, sir. I mean, I'm not particularly fond of poultry, but the other stuff is overcooked. It's no big deal."
One thin brow arched as it lifted. "To your seat."
Boy bit his lip. "Yes, sir."
" You will cease aiding Miss Odoa in class. Any tutoring will be done outside of class. By their fifth year, I expect my students to be prepared. Do you understand me?" Snape asked severely.
"Yes, sir." He repeated, then headed for his seat. As there were no assigned seats, he decided to stop hiding in the back of the room. He took a seat in the third row, rather than the fifth.
After class, Boy stayed behind. "Sir?"
"What is it?" Came the irritated response as he scrubbed the blackboard.
For a moment, Boy was tempted to ask why he wasn't using a spell, but decided against it. "I know it's my own fault, but..."
At that, Snape turned around.
"But I didn't get the permission form signed in time to stay for the holidays, sir. I didn't send it soon enough." There. Get it all out at once.
"And that is my problem, how?" Snape asked, unimpressed.
Boys' hands clenched into fists. He couldn't scratch in public. "I suppose it's not, sir. Have a good day."
Without a word, Snape waved him off.
"Hey, Kitten," Amelia said, flopping into one of the armchairs next to his. She let her bulging knapsack fall to the floor with a loud thud.
He waved, his eyes never leaving his book.
"What warm welcome," she said sarcastically. "I feel so loved."
As he finished up the paragraph, he placed the book, still open, on the coffee table. Then flung himself onto her lap. "Oh, 'Melia, I've missed you ever so much! I'm so glad you're here! You have no idea how difficult it is to go three full hours without seeing you! You simply must marry me, so that we're never apart again!"
She gave a quick nod. "That's more like it, Kitten." Hugging him tightly, she planted a big, smacking kiss on his cheek.
Neither of them could contain their laughter.
They were kicked out of the library.
"We might not be able to get married in the library," Amelia joked, feigning hurt. "But I just don't see how this will work at all. You haven't even given me a ring yet. I'm a respectable woman, Mr. Potter!"
This time, away from the library, their laughter was much louder.
"Hey," Olive and Penny called, exiting a classroom.
"You're going the wrong way," Penny said with a grin.
At that, their laughter picked right back up.
Boy was shaking his head, struggling to control his giggle fit. "We-" deep breath. "We can't... kicked out..."
"And now we're getting married!" Amelia half-shouted, losing her composure once more.
The foursome was turning the corner before Boy and Amelia calmed down.
"Just so you know," Olive smirked as they closed the door of an abandoned classroom. "I'm telling Freya that she's got no chance now. Not since you've jumped back on the weiner wagon."
"Olive!" Penny and Amelia shouted, scandalized.
"Is this one of those 'Harry is only eleven!' moments?" He asked, not sure.
"Yes," they all said immediately.
"Okay." He shrugged, dropping his bag, unfazed. "Well, I don't have any work to do. What about you guys?"
Penny gaped. "What about Runes? That was just assigned this morning!"
"Did it during history," he replied honestly. That class was boring and not really informative.
"I thought you were taking notes," she said disbelievingly. "How did you get three full feet finished in a single class period?"
"With my... quill?" It was more of a question than an answer, but he didn't totally understand. Since it was a classroom, there were only uncomfortable wooden chairs. He gestured for them to stand. With his fake wand, he summoned several of the chairs and put them in a semicircle, then transfigured them into a blue curved sofa with bronze piping. With that done, he shortened one of the tall tables. "Those chairs were awful. Is this better?"
Rather than answer, they piled on, leaving a gap between Penny and the others.
Smiling, he took the open spot. He loved feeling so included, even for such small things. He really loved his friends. "I was thinking," he eventually said, leaning on Penny's shoulder.
Pulling their eyes away from their books, they looked at him.
"Since we won't be here for Yule," he began. "Why don't we have our own little celebration the night before we leave? I can give you all your gifts and we'll eat too much sugar."
"Yes!" Olive cheered. "That sounds fantastic!"
"Our dorm after dinner?" Amelia suggested.
"And no significant others!" Penny said adamantly.
"That's because yours can't get into the dorms." Amelia snorted.
Penny just rolled her eyes.
"Why can't he get in?" Boy asked.
"Because boys can't get into..." Olive's voice trailed off. "The girls' dorms."
"I never even thought about that. So, how did Buh-Harry get in?" Penny wondered aloud.
Boy just shrugged.
The others had no answer either.
Shrugging it off, Penny shifted to the floor so that she could write her essay on the coffee table.
As Boy had nothing to do, he pulled the elastic from her hair and began combing through it with his fingers. He turned a scroll of parchment into a handful of tiny metal clips. Before they knew it, Penny's hair was in an elaborately braided pile on the top of her head.
"Merlin, Kitten," Amelia said, shaking her head in wonder. "If you weren't so smart, I'd think you were born to be a hairdresser. You didn't even have a comb or anything."
He blushed, not believing it was as big of a deal as they made it out to be. "The Potter family library has books on a lot of subjects, even muggle ones. There were four books on hair styling alone, even if they were stuffed in a corner."
"Who cares what they were about!" Penny said, affronted. "No books should ever be hidden away!"
"They weren't hidden, just put on a shelf that wasn't... out in the open. From what I could tell, they were only the ones that-" don't call them by their names! "-my father didn't appreciate very much. I think they were my mothers' books. There were thirty-six romance novels on that shelf. That's what made me think about making Penny pretty for Percy. One was about a Lady, called Emmalyn. She was being courted by some Lord that she didn't fancy at all. I think he was like thirty years older than her or something. Anyway, she found herself being attracted to one of the Queen's Ladies, who happened to be the eldest sister of a Duke. Emmalyn was the third born daughter of a Baron, which was obviously not as highly regarded as the Princess she fancied, Elsbeth. Elsbeth wouldn't give her the time of day, so she went with her family to their summer home in a different country and lied about her identity and tricked a seamstress into making her clothes on the promise that she would be bringing her other wealthy friends to purchase their clothes from there, as she had very little money. So, she got prettied up for Princess Elsbeth, who finally seemed to notice her."
During this tale, Boy had turned his quill into a charcoal pencil and began sketching on a bit of parchment. "I figured that if it worked for Emmalyn, it might work for Penny."
"Who cares about that?!" Penny said excitedly. "I want to know what happened next! Did Emmalyn marry Elsbeth?"
Olive and Amelia were quick to start pelting questions as well.
Startled by their vehemence, Boy looked up from his sketch. They were all watching him in anticipation. Boy giggled to himself. Girls were so strange. "I'll tell you the whole story, after you've all finished your homework. Really! Someone will think you're all a bunch of Hufflepuffs, wanting to hear a mushy love story and ignoring your assignments! For shame."
They all cracked up at that.
"Fine," Amelia agreed. "But since we have to wait until we're done, you're going to tell the whole story, in detail, and not skip over what you already told us. Deal?"
"Oh, alright," he said, sighing heavily, as if it were an inconvenience. In reality, he liked telling stories. Reading was the closest thing he'd had to companionship for nearly ten years, so he knew a lot of stories. "Eager, are we?"
"SHHHHHH!" They all said, diving back into their work.
That was fine. Boy went back to his drawing until they finished.