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2021-01-09
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2021-03-30
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5/?
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The Lion, the Hamster and the Snakes

Chapter 5: A bunch of animals' weekend

Notes:

Hi! Sorry for the wait, I guess I wasn't really in the mood to write and post after my exams and I got a bit lost in preparng for the new term and everything. This chapter is mostly filler, but it has some important plot developments I wasn't keen on exploring more than needed, so...
I have a few very important things to say about this story and where it's going, so please read the end notes and let me know your opinion!
And really thank you to everyone that read and kudoed and commented this story! I love you!
Baci

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The weekend had been a strange experience. Very strange and very funny. Hermione had spent the majority of her time swamped in homework and books and research, driving herself nearly crazy with her insane desire to study everything. And it wasn’t even October yet! She’d been surprised by the strange turn of events with the Slytherins, and a bit scared. She didn’t want someone possibly so close to her and hers to start calling her names: she was strong -stronger than many when it came to this- but her heart was fragile already because of years of whispers about her intelligence and skin colour, and now about her blood too. Harry had sworn to her that if they even thought of her as a lesser being he would avenge her with all the might of his thirteen-year-old self. But he didn’t think it would be a problem. She had been a bit more relaxed after that.

On Saturday afternoon Harry and Ron had managed to bodily lift her and her piles of books and sit her in the library, thinking that if she really wanted to study at least a change of scenery would help her mind not implode. Then, mostly out of friendship obligation, the two boys had placed themselves at her table and attacked their own study material with force and righteous fury. It had been Harry’s idea, Ron would have gone and played quidditch all day, but they had to study some too and Hermione needed to socialize.  

Hermione squeaked and started flailing when Ron and Harry pounced on her and grabbed her -Harry took her by the armpits and Ron grabbed her legs. They swinged her around a bit, laughing and not caring about the glares they were getting from the other students trying to study in the common room.

“PUT ME DOWN! Boys please! Put. Me. Down. I need to study, what will I do if I fail my tests? I’ll fail the end-of-year exam and then my OWLs and I’ll never graduate!” The girl went on screeching.

“Mione! Calm down! You won’t fail a bloody thing, you swot!” Ron had interrupted with enough exasperation in his voice Harry had almost let go of the girl because of laughter.

“Yeah, Mione, don’t worry so much. And we won’t stop your studying, we just think it’s unhealthy to bury yourself in books here!”

“Yeah! Look, after much thought and sufferance on our part… yes, okay, the sufferance mostly on my part… we decided that you will study in the library. Full stop. That’s it.”

“No argument will be heard or taken into consideration.” Concluded Harry with a finalising nod. When Hermione finally relented, growing limp and nodding her head -bushy coils bouncing around- they put her down, packed all the books necessary and headed down to the library.

And then, that happened. Sure, Blaise had told them he didn’t want to keep their friendship secret, but the Gryffindors had been completely shocked when Millicent, Tracey and Blaise had plopped down next to them and proclaimed that they now were a study group.

“Hey there our amazing Gryffindor friends! Pine tree, snitch, good to see you again. Granger! Hermione is fine isn’t it? How nice to meet you officially! I absolutely don’t think of your muggle origins as anything bad, please don’t compare me to Malfoy or I might as well off myself” Blaise announced with flair and flamboyancy in a soft enough voice not to alert Madam Pince, startling the Golden Trio when he popped up in front of them, flanked by Millicent and Tracey.

“Mind if we study with you?” asked the taller girl. Still dumbfounded, the three could only nod yes and the snakes settled themselves on the table.

“Wait a moment… why pine tree?” Asked a perplexed Ron to an evily smiling Blaise. “Well, of course because you’re so tall and lanky! And before you ask, harry dear, you’re short and cannot stay put just like a snitch.”

“Hey!” Harry felt somewhat offended.

“Don’t take it badly, snitch! You’re golden after all, and difficult to catch. Not exactly bad things…” Blaise was still smiling quite cheekily, and Harry pouted at the Slytherin. He was opening his mouth to retort, somehow, even if he didn’t know how, but Hermione interrupted him. “Honestly boys! We need to study and you’re no help!”

“Yes, and listen, I’ve got the bestest idea! Why don’t we start a study group? Like, we could meet here to study all together every week and help each other!” Had piped up Tracey. What Harry would come to know as her constantly bubbly and over-the-top personality -and really didn’t she ever rest? Was she on drugs? It was a possibility…- wasn’t dimmed even by the prospect of studying.

Harry had never done a study group, but it looked interesting. Ron had groaned at the idea of more studying -with a plan and meetings and everyone needed to help others with their best subjects. Hermione had been both ecstatic and horrified: the former because of the idea of more studying, of course, the latter because maybe studying with others could slow her down. She had quickly leaned towards ecstatic when Tracey had complimented her hair and suggested potions to help style them and Millicent had started a long and enthusiastic conversation about cats, kneazles and other felines. She had told Harry -Saturday evening while they were relaxing in the common room- that she had never had real girl friends: her dorm mates were such a close-knitted group of friends and had interests so different from hers she had always felt a bit left out. She hoped so much that this new thing, this strange happy and promising new thing, would go well. Harry had hoped so too, had hugged his friend tightly and suggested he braided her hair.

“Oh Harry! You always know how to make me feel better, thank you so much!” She said, eyes shiny and a blinding smile splitting her dark skin. Ron patted her knee from where he was sitting on the floor, playing a chess match against himself -“It’s the only way I don’t win after four moves! C’mon Harry, you and ‘Mione know you’re both shit at this!”- and smiled a bit awkwardly. He always leaved the more emotional stuff to Harry, not that the raven-haired boy was so much better at it.

Sunday morning saw Harry up and about too early for any normal human being. Not that it was his fault: he had dreamed of his mother’s death again, and had woken up with a harsh green light blinking behind his lids and sweaty pyjamas sticking to his skin. A shower had taken care of the problem and had calmed his racing heart, but he couldn’t fall asleep again. It was just after five, a sliver of sunrise had started peeking from behind the mountains surrounding Hogwarts. Harry had dressed comfortably, huddled under the Invisibility Cloak and tip-toed out of the Tower. It wasn’t prohibited to wander around in the mornings, but he’d rather not be seen by eventual teachers or students. He’d decided he’d wander around until it was time for breakfast -Ron knew not to panic if he didn’t find him in his bed in the morning- and then meet his friends to eat. He hadn’t expected to come across a little -not really- known first year.

“I’m telling you Tory! That’s what bad muggles do, do you want to be like them?”

“Muggles are all bad, don’t be stupid!”

“No, no, I’m telling you! Harry said so, that bad muggles hurt people because of their skin colour and that blood status is the same! Like, like… you can’t change how you’re born, right?” Vivian was doing that thing where she puffed up her cheeks like a little hamster, and she was stomping on the ground, clearly firm in her desire to convince her friend. Harry thought it was sweet, she was sweet: a few days after his talk and she’d probably reflected it so much she had come to conclusions he hadn’t made explicit all on her own. And now she was trying to convince another little snakelet. So cute. Probably Millicent had helped, she’d confessed that she had been trying to make her see reason and she’d told Harry she would talk to her as well.

“Harry, Harry, Harry… you always talk about him now!”

“Yes well, and what’s the problem with that? I clearly remember you going on and on about Harry Potter when you were five!”

“That’s… that’s not true!” the second Slytherin -Astoria Greengrass if Harry remembered correctly- was turning a shade of red that could probably put a Weasley to shame, and Harry would have laughed at her if he wasn’t a bit embarrassed as well. Being famous was still so embarrassing! But he couldn’t just walk away from the two girls now. He wanted to kick himself for it, but -just as he now felt an extreme protectiveness of Vivian that maybe could almost reach his protect-baby-sister-in-spirits-Ginny-at-all-costs levels of protectiveness- he felt obligated to teach her how to get away from the grip of blood purist ideas. And now that she was trying to spread the word around… well, he’d finish what he had started. He was nothing if a stubborn Gryffindor, he could conquer other tiny cute snakelets and their racist ideology.

He took off his cloak and quickly hid it in his pockets, and approached the two Slytherins, who were now scowling at each other, neither refusing to back down. Convincing Astoria that what she was taught was wrong was going to be harder, wasn’t it? Amazing. Truly amazing. Lucky him that Divination homework could be just invented out of the blue because he’d need the time.

“Hi Vivi! And Astoria, right? I heard a bit of your conversation there, and isn’t it a bit early to be talking about such complicated things?”

The girls both jump a foot in surprise. Astoria realizes just who’s talked to them and reddens even more, trying and failing to put on an unaffected air. Vivian brightens so much when she sees Harry, the passing thought that maybe Ron is right and he’ll soon have a sect of little cute fans ready to start a cult in his name -he shakes the idea off immediately, too creepy- flashes in the third year’s mind.

“Harry! Hi! We were going to the Great Hall to get the freshest croissant but we got a bit delayed… oops. It was all Astoria’s fault anyway!”

“Hey!” the blonde exclaimed pouting “It’s you and your crazy ideas!”

“They’re not crazy!” Vivian frowned, then turned sharply towards Harry, grabbing his sleeve and pulling a bit, much like a little kid asking their parents for sweets “Harry, tell her! Tell her what you told me, I’m trying to make her understand but she doesn’t! She won’t!

“Vivi…”

“No one of my friends wants to listen to me! They’re all wrong and they don’t see it!” She was getting worringly teary and trembly in the lips, and the last thing Harry wanted was for her to cry. Their interactions already had too many crying moments. He panickily eyed Astoria, who had turned away from them and who was now standing straight as a rod, with her arms crossed and her nose up, clear in her desire to ignore them and retain her -her parents’ actually- ideas. What could he do? It had been much easier with Vivian: she was distressed, thus her walls were mostly down, and it came to her as a shock, and her sister had started hinting at it already. From what he knew, Daphne Greengrass was the picture perfect pureblood, not as bad as Malfoy but clear in her dislike for “inferior” witches. What to do what to do?

TOCK!

Hogwarts Clock struck 8.00 -and how was it 8.00 already?- and that meant Hermione would be waiting for him in the Great Hall in a matter of minutes as usual. He didn’t have time to deal with racism awareness talks! But Vivian was looking at him with the most convincing puppy eyes ever, and he couldn’t just refuse her. He’d feel too bad! And really, convincing Astoria would be a chore, and if he succeeded… he just knew his little hamster would start bringing all her friends to him to convert them. Help.

Idea! Genius! Well, mostly, it would still be a bit difficult but… at least time-saving.

“Listen Vivi, I don’t really have time right now, my friends are waiting for me, but… well, if you want we can do this sometime during the week, and you can bring all your other friends as well, so… you know…”

“YES! That’s amazing! Thank you thank you thank you!”

When he told Ron and Hermione he was already regretting his promise, and a feeling of dread was spreading in him at the idea of giving a class -sort of- to a bunch of little Slytherins. Hermione had been supportive, of course, and she thought it was an amazing idea, and by the time the sun set and Sunday ended she had plans and ideas and lists ready for it. Ron had laughed so hard he choked on his breakfast, then proceeded to murmur The little club of Harry-loving ducklings is growing! with glee every few minutes. Blaise, Millicent and Tracy had been on board, no questions asked, and converted their second study group session into an event-planning madness.

All in all, it had been a good weekend.

Notes:

Sooo, where to start.
I've been having a few qualms about this fanfic lately, and right now I'm stuck between leaving it as it is and not continuing it or going on and see where it leads me (I don't have much of a plot outline since this started as a one-shot so I'm going in blind).
I thought a lot about this, and I've been feeling almost guilty about writing this fic: I love POC or Indian Harry, and I wanted to contribute to this trope and at the same time talk about racism and try to spread a positive message in the community (it never hurts, and I think it still needs repeating if some orrible things are still happening in the world). BUT, I am a white mostly cis girl from a mostly white State (at least I can say I'm not eterosexual) so I never know if I'm overstepping or stealing the place of some amazing black creator. And I'm also scared I won't talk about this topic correctly and doing justice to what actually happens in the world. Like, I know this is fiction and I can't just write about things I know first hand, no writer really can or has to or the literary world would be quite boring, and JK (who I don't support even if I love HP) herself created a metaphor for racism and spoke in the stead of a 11 yo even if she's a white cis etero woman of surely more than 11.
I don't know, I'm in a bit of a funk over all this. Please please I beg you to let me know what yu think, I really value every input and opinion.
This said, I don't know if and when the next update will be, sorry... you'll have to find out.
Bacioni e buona vita a tutti!