Find Who You Are ( Harry Potter x Male Reader ) [VERY SLOW UPDATES]

Chapter 116

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Y/n's P.O.V.
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We end up at Hogsmeade and Harry's explained that he has no clue who the Half Blood Prince is, nor does he care to find out. Which feels very unlike Harry, he always has to know everything and is never not curious.

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Later that month we walk together at Hogsmeade down Main Street. Students lean away from the bitter wind, trudging though deep snow.

Hermione asks Harry in blasphemy, "For weeks you carry around this book, practically sleep with it...and you have no desire to find out who the Half Blood Prince is?"

"I didn't say I wasn't curious. And by the way, I don't sleep with it." Harry states.

I smirk and comment, "Yeah, that's my place."

Harry turns a brilliant shade of red and glares at me. Hermione and Ron turn red as well, Ron glares at me also. I raise my hands in surrender under their hateful gazes.

"Moving on. Well, the book part is true. I like a nice chat before I go to bed. Now you're always reading that bloody book. It's like being with Hermione." Ron complains.

Hermione sends Ron a nasty glare and changes the subject, "Well, I was curious. So I went to-"

"The Library." All of us boys finish the sentence for her.

"And?" Harry urges Hermione to continue.

Hermione tells us about her fruitless search, "And...nothing. There's no reference to the Half Blood Prince anywhere."

"Good. That settles it then." Harry states, happily.

Hermione starts to object when she's interrupted by a familiar deep voice yelling to us, "Hey, you four!"

Hagrid emerges from the trees, snow in his beard and hair making him look like some crazed Father Christmas. A few other shadows in the trees catch my eye, seemingly the dark silhouettes of Aurors. They have been sent here to protect us but I feel more unnerved than safe with them around. Hermione seems to notice them to, but shifts the attention to the pulsing bag that Hagrid's holding.

"What've you got there Hagrid?" Hermione inquires him.

Hagrid opens the sack to us, letting out a rancid smell. I cringe at the smell, the others doing the same. Hagrid chuckles at our reactions.

Hagrid explains, "Stinksap. Burn the whiskers right off yer chin. Trees 'ere are drippin' with it."

Stinksap is normally used to help the sick, so Hagrid having this causes me to worry anout his health.

"Stinksap? You're not sick, are you?" Hermione asks Hagrid, thinking the same thing I was.

Hagrid informs us, "It's not fer me. It's fer Aragog. Yeh remember Aragog, don' yeh?"

A shiver runs down my spine at the memory of the spider nest and Aragog. I have hated spiders ever since.

"Spider? About six feet tall? Ten feet wide?" Ron questions.