Nothing In This World (BEING EDITED)

XLIII.

Chapter XLIII: The Devil Wears Pink and a lot of it
Warning: Explicit language, implied adult themes, and implied abuse.

Harry was absolutely and completely over it. He hated this more than he hated the thought of being captured by Voldemort. He had suffered through Charms, Transfigurations, and now History of Magic. It was by common consent the most boring subject ever devised by Wizard-kind. Professor Binns, their ghost teacher, had a wheezy, droning voice that was almost guaranteed to cause severe drowsiness within ten minutes, five in warm weather. He never varied the form of their lessons but lectured them without pausing while they took notes, or rather, gazed sleepily into space. Harry and Seamus had so far managed to scrape passes in this subject only by copying Hermione's notes before exams; she alone seemed able to resist the soporific power of Binns's voice.

Today, they suffered through three quarters of an hour's droning on the subject of giant wars. Harry heard just enough within the first ten minutes to appreciate dimly that in another teacher's hands this subject might have been mildly interesting, but then his brain disengaged, and he spent the remaining thirty-five minutes playing hangman on a corner of his parchment with Seamus, while Hermione shot them filthy looks out of the corner of her eye.

"If this continues on like this, I'll personally hand myself over to Voldemort."

"Oh, it's not that bad, Harry." Hermione said.

As the bell rang, they made their way down the stairs. A fine misty drizzle was falling so that the people standing in huddles around the yard looked blurred at the edges. Harry, Seamus, and Hermione chose a secluded corner under a heavily dripping balcony, turning up the collars of their robes against the chilly September air and talking about what Snape was likely going to set for them in the second lesson of the year. They had got as far as agreeing that it was likely to be something extremely difficult, just to catch them off guard after a two-month holiday, when someone walked around the corner toward them.

"What you lot doing out in the rain?" Asked Fred. He took the empty spot on Harry's right and clapped him on the back.

"Talking as you can clearly see," replied Seamus. "Getting fresh air," he added, "Professor Binns droned on and on about whatever he was talking about. I don't know. It was boring for sure."

Harry moved a few inches from Fred, creating some distance between them and said, "What's it to you. You're not skipping your introduction to business class again, are you?"

"Are you going to tell Dads?"

Harry shook his head. He shouldn't, but he also knew how badly Fred and George wanted that shop. "Maybe I will, or maybe I won't."

"What do you want?" Asked George, leaning over to look Harry in the eyes.

"Sweets, and you have to do my chores for a month."

It was Fred's turn to roll his eyes. He couldn't really be mad at Harry. They had spent years teaching him how to bribe and negotiate. "And if we don't?"

"I'll sing like a goddamn canary."

"You three are so childish." Hermione added. She opened her potions textbook, turned to the page with a bookmark, and delved into the reading. Every now and then, she'd speak up, but for the most part, she had her head in her potion's book.