Harry Potter. Hermione X Male Reader Story

Revolutionary Clubs and Dodgy Pubs

(Y/N)'s POV

The next morning was not fun for me, that's one of the main problems about this ritual, I had to wake up super early, sunrise to be specific, which meant I was usually half dead by the time class came around.

I just hoped there was a storm sooner rather than later because this was killing me, and It was only the first day. We, being me and Hermione, spent the whole week trying to convince Harry to start this revolution thing.

While still setting up the whole thing, getting people interested and seeing who would join, until finally, we had a date and time of a meeting. "Look," she leaned toward Harry sternly as we were sat in the common room.

"You know the first weekend in October's a Hogsmeade weekend? How would it be if we tell anyone who's interested to meet us in the village and we can talk it over?" "Why do we have to do it outside school?" said Ron.

"Because," said Hermione, "I don't think Umbridge would be very happy if she found out what we were up to." The morning of the Hogsmeade visit dawned bright but windy, we trudged down the street huddled together.

"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. "The Three Broomsticks?" "Oh — no," said Hermione, "no, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road."

"I think it's a bit . . . you know . . . dodgy . . . but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard." "Plus we don't need Ron drooling over the staff" I added. "Well, come on," said Hermione slightly nervously as we made our way to the pub. I shrugged and stepped in; it can't be that scary.

The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy, and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. Harry stepped two paces into the room and his eyes darted around the room. "I don't know about this, Hermione," he muttered, as we crossed to the bar.

"I like it. It has an odd charm to it...y'know, under all the dirt...and the goats" I said, smiling at the very angry looking bartender who seemed very familiar for some reason. "Sup man, got any gigglewater?" he coughed "No..." I nodded. "Any recommendations?" "Leave..." I nodded awkwardly again, I whispered to Ron "I think he likes me."

Hermione ordered the drinks; I think he liked her more then he liked me "What?" he grunted. "Four butterbeers, please," said Hermione "Three, I'll have pumpkin juice" I said. They looked at me oddly.

"Winky can't have Butterbeer anymore, so I promised her I wouldn't either, that way we can try to kick it together" I explained, Ron scoffed, Harry shrugged, but Hermione beamed at me. "That's really nice of you" I shrugged "She's my friend."

The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar, then he reached for an equally dirty glass and filled it with Pumpkin Juice. "Eight Sickles," he said. "I got it" I said, handing him the money, I hated having change in my pockets.

"You know what?" Ron murmured after we had sat down, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here, I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try firewhisky —"

"You — are — a — prefect," snapped Hermione. "Oh," "Yeah . . ." said Ron, the smile fading from his face. "I'm not." I smiled, sliding my chair out, Hermione gave me a very scary glare that reminded me of Mum a bit.

"SIT" she snarled, I nodded and sat down out of fear. "You never let me do anything fun" I grumbled. Trying to convince myself she wasn't the boss of me, despite all the evidence to the contrary.