Harry Potter Male Reader Insert - Book 2

Chapter 6. Mudbloods and murmurs

1

The next few days, whenever Harry saw Lockhart in the corridor, he tried to dodge him, and it was a little worse, with Colin Creevey following him upon every lesson's end as if Harry's schedule was burnt onto his mind. The younger boy was thrilled every time Harry answered his greet, as tired as he did it, but that didn't matter.

Hedwig was still angry with Harry about the disastrous car journey, and Ron's wand was still malfunctioning, surpassing itself on Friday morning by shooting out of Ron's hand in Charms and hitting tiny old Professor Flitwick squarely between the eyes, creating a large, throbbing green boil where it had struck. So with one thing and another, Harry was quite glad to reach the weekend. He, Ron, and Hermione planned to visit Hagrid on Saturday morning, and Y/N decided to go with them, and he didn't sound so glad about it, but that didn't surprise them at all. Harry, however, was shaken awake several hours earlier than he would have liked by Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

„What's the matter?" Harry asked, half-awake, and regarded him tiredly.

„Quidditch practice!" Wood said. „Come on!"

Harry squinted at the window. There was a thin mist hanging across the pink-and-gold sky. Now that he was awake, he couldn't understand how he could have slept through the birds' noise outside.

„Oliver," Harry croaked. „It's the crack of dawn."

„Exactly," Wood said. He was a tall and burly sixth year, and at the moment, his eyes were gleaming with a crazed enthusiasm. „It's part of our new training program. Come on, grab your broom, and let's go," he said heartily, maybe too heartily, almost shouting. „None of the other teams have started training yet. We're going to be first off the mark this year."

Then the voice said, Harry recognized it, as it was a familiar voice he heard every day: „No need to be so loud, man." Y/N was sitting on his bed, his elbows on his thighs, staring at them, and his face didn't picture any joking matter, as if he was angry. At everything, and everyone, at the time. Cinder meowed quietly and softly nuzzled her gray fur against him. The others, however, didn't wake from Wood's speech, which meant either Y/N was awake before or he was a light sleeper.

It was quiet as Harry yawned and climbed out of his bed, and went to find his robes. Only the birds were heard.

„Sorry," Wood said abashed slightly, but he didn't know Y/N's name. Then looked at Harry and said: „Meet you on the field in fifteen minutes." And left quickly.

When Harry found his scarlet team robes and pulled on his cloak for warmth, Harry scribbled a note to Ron explaining where he'd gone and then said to Y/N politely: „Are you okay? I hope we didn't wake you."

„I'm good. Woke up a little earlier. Cinder needed her food." He looked at his cat and smiled as she meowed again as if in apology. „You're okay, Cinder."

After that, Harry went down the spiral staircase, his Nimbus Two Thousand on his shoulder. He reached the portrait hole, and there was a clatter behind him, and Colin Creevey came dashing down the spiral staircase, and his camera was swinging madly around his neck, and something clutched in his hand.

„I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Harry! Look what I've got here! I've had it developed, and I wanted to show you."

Harry looked bemusedly at the photograph Colin was brandishing under his nose. Moving, black-and-white Lockhart tugged hard on an arm Harry recognized as his own. He was pleased to see his photographic self putting up a good fight and refusing to be dragged into view. As Harry watched, Lockhart gave up and slumped, panting, against the white edge of the picture.