kbinnz - Harry's New Home

"Yes, sir. Those two," he jerked his head at the twins, "had already tackled O'Leary, and it didn't look like they needed any help, and Smythe was practically buried under those three, so the fight was pretty much over, until the rest of the Ravens decided they wanted to get involved." Flint paused, then decided to be kind. "To be fair, sir, I don't think they knew what these four'd been up to. They just thought their Housemates were in trouble."

Professor Flitwick had been looking progressively more distressed as the enormity of the crimes of four of his students came to light. "Goodness gracious, Mr Potter, are you all right? I'm shocked and appalled that any of my Ravenclaws could have planned such a thing!"

Harry smiled at the diminutive professor. "I'm okay, sir."

"Another untruth, Mr Potter?" Snape demanded sternly, barely restraining himself from grabbing the boy and carrying him bodily to the Infirmary. "According to your own account, as well as the others', you were punched, choked, thrown against a wall, and тАУ"

"Pr'fessor!" Harry exclaimed, scandalized. The last thing he wanted was for his professor to treat him like a baby in front of everyone. "I'm okay. Really."

"Perhaps, Severus, you would be so kind as to take all four of our battling first years to see Madame Pomfrey? It sounds like all of them may be a bit the worse for wear."

"Albus, I must point out that my students, Mr Smythe in particular, may also require medical attention," Filius said. He might be appalled by their behavior, but he would still carry out his duty and attend to his students' welfare.

"Of course. Perhaps you would ask Madame Pomfrey to join us in my office as soon as she has taken care of these four?" Dumbledore turned to Snape expectantly.

"Oh, please, Professor, can't we eat first? I'm starving," Harry protested, looking at Snape beseechingly.

"Yeah!" Ron echoed. "Erm, I mean, me too, sir," he added quickly at Snape's glare.

Snape scowled and would have scolded the boys for their cheek, but Dumbledore chuckled and nodded before he had the chance. "Very well, Harry. That will let Madame Pomfrey see to these young men first, but as soon as the meal is over, Professor Snape will take all of you to the Infirmary, and I expect there to be no arguments."

"Yes, sir," Harry promised.

Flitwick, Dumbledore and the four Ravenclaw students went up to the Headmaster's office, while McGonagall and Snape ushered the rest of the school back into the Great Hall. For the first time in student memory, seating by House went out the window, as those who had been involved in The Great Battle plunked themselves down at one table, and the rest of the students scrambled for nearby seats so they could listen in and hear what had happened.

"Cor, you're a real little squirmer," Flint commented, giving Harry a friendly nudge. "When I was running up I saw you giving those wankers a right good fight."

Harry blushed.

"Wait'll you see his moves on a broomstick!" Wood put in from across the table. "He's practically not human the way he torques around!"

On the other end of the table, Ron and Draco had ended up sitting next to each other. Both studiously avoided the other's eye for a while, but Ron broke first. "So, um, Malfoy тАУ er, Draco тАУ thanks. I mean, for before," Ron mumbled. "Y'know, with that Ravenclaw."

"You're welcome, Weasley." Draco hesitated, then added, "I suppose we're even тАУ you made him let go before he broke my arm." He smirked. "Didn't know your family had been driven to cannibalism!"

"Huh?" Ron's eyes narrowed. He suspected there was an insult in there, but he wasn't sure.

Draco rolled his eyes. "The way you were chewing on his wrist? Cannibalism? Get it?"

"Oh." Ron colored. "Well, I wanted to make him let you go. It sounded like he was really hurting you."

Now it was Draco's turn to grow red. "Well, yeah..."

There was an awkward pause.

"Your brother knows some nasty spells," Draco eventually commented. "Has he taught them to you?"

"Some," Ron admitted. "You want me to show you?"

Draco shrugged, elaborately casual. "Yeah, maybe. I mean, it might be amusing."

Ron grinned. "There's one my oldest brother learned from the goblins. Blimey тАУ it's brilliant."

"Yeah?" Draco dropped the fa├зade of disinterest. "What does it do?"

While the two boys talked animatedly, and Harry, Oliver, Katie, and Marcus discussed Quidditch, Jones turned to Hermione.

"They had to levitate that big gorilla up to the Headmaster's office, Firstie тАУ he couldn't even walk. What spell did you use?"

Hermione colored. "It wasn't a spell. I just kicked him. My father made sure I know some self-defense moves."

One of the other Slytherins, who hadn't participated in the fight, scoffed, "Your father taught you? A Muggle? What kind of self-defense does a Muggle know? And what good would it do anyway?"

Hermione flushed angrily. "Are you insulting my father?"

Before the other Slytherin could reply, Jones said softly, "She broke Smythe's wand, Singh. I'd watch my tongue if I were you."

There was a distinct pause, then Singh said, in tones that were a great deal more respectful, "No offense, Granger. Don't go all Gryffindor on me. I just meant that MugglesтАж well, what can they know about fighting?"

That did it. Hermione knew perfectly well that her inability to keep her mouth shut in class caused her to be damned by her peers as an annoying know-it-all. She knew that her intimate knowledge of all the rules often made her act like a goody-goody tattle-tale. She also knew that she had no one but herself to blame for all of this. But for all her rule-abiding, question-answering, homework-obsessed behavior, Hermione Granger was no coward. She had her pride and, whatever Wizarding society might think, she was fiercely loyal to her parents and the Muggle society in which she had been raised. She decided that if the children at this new school were going to despise her as much as the students at her old school had, then she might as well give them a reason to do so. To hell with being the good girl. For once, Hermione was going to fight fire with fire.

She glanced at Davidella Jones, whose kick-arse attitude combined with her Prefect's badge had won Hermione's admiration. Here was someone who obviously was a respected student and Good Girl, yet whom even imposing boys like Flint didn't cross. Hermione had found a role model.

Jones raised her eyebrows in silent encouragement, and heartened, Hermione glared around at Singh and the other purebloods. "Fighting? You think Wizards are the only ones who can fight? You people don't have the slightest idea what fighting is really like. Hexing is for sissies. Muggles fight with their bare hands. And Muggles are a lot tougher than Wizards, too," she went on, scowling around the table. "Here in the magical world, if you're injured in a fight, you're fixed up in no time by Madame Pomfrey or some other healer. When Muggles fight and are hurt, we stay injured. You can't hope to fight if you can't stand pain, and Muggles know more about pain and suffering than any Wizard."

"Hold on, Granger!" Malfoy called out. "Weasley here nearly got Crucio'd. That's plenty of pain and suffering!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No one is putting down Ron's bravery in saving me, Draco." Ron blushed to the tips of his ears. "Or yours in saving him." Now it was Draco's turn to look awkward. Saving a Gryffindor? What had he been thinking? And what would his father say? "But Muggles know real, lasting pain, and that's what makes us good fighters."

"So you know pain, Granger?" This time it was a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team who spoke, the skepticism clear in his tone. "Try getting hit with a Bludger."

Hermione leaned forward. "My parents are dentists, Bradley. Do you know what that means?" Most of the purebloods shook their heads. "Muggles get holes in their teeth, and dentists fix them. Do you know how they fix them? First, they take a big, loooong needle," she held up her hand to show how long the needle was, "and they stick it into your gum," she demonstrated, "and they slooooooowly inject this medicine that stings like crazy. And then, they get out a machine that has a pointy bit that spins really really fast and makes a whiny noise like this тАУ" Her impression was good enough that she had most of the table holding their ears in pain. "And then they use that to drill holes in your teeth." Now all of the purebloods were green. Even Jones was breathing shallowly and clinging to Percy's arm. The other Muggleborns were enjoying this immensely, and the Half-Bloods were, depending on their background, either amused or revolted.