And my Demons left Behind

Thrown at Anyone's Whim

A/N: Yeah, I know it's been a while, but if you care to look at it, I'm trying to maintain a proper schedule here, and actually completing chapters well in advance for the first time, unlike my first story, Magic of the All Hallows Eve, whose second part is also releasing today (*hint *hint), after this fic is completed.

Anyways, unlike the title and the next line of the poem building up, this chapter is more normal, with a bit of fun and brilliant moments in the quiet but not so quiet life of our dear Harry James Potter.

Dodging stones and avoiding sticks, thrown at anyone's whim

Harry Potter had gotten used to waking up at different places than he slept. While others may deem it to be frightening, it was enlightening for him when he first encountered this scenario. 

It meant that instead of the cupboard, at times he'd sleep in Dudley's second bed and wake up well before anyone knew about it, or do things he'd not have the guts for doing while asleep.

But now, it had indeed become frightening for him. For while asleep, he tended to find himself in many a strange place. Like brewing a complicated potion to perfection on his own, or gazing at thunder through a cave in the Forbidden Forest.

But waking up beside a certain person in their bed, was too strange too even begin contemplating.

Like REALLY?! Man! If this went on further....

Swearing mentally, he slowly descended in a careful manner, not to wake up the original owner of the bed, he folded his invisibility cloak upon himself and descended the stairs opposite of what he was used to.

Like, it was said that this wasn't even possible!?!

But then someone caught his hand. He turned, cursing like a true sailor, with so many creative insights that could make Sirius burst, and it was Granger.

Holy —

"I saw you, you know", she said, in a half-asleep angry tone that honestly made Harry feel a bit strange.

Harry gulped. But then, her angry face turned into something much different. She smiled, with a glint of something in her eyes that Harry couldn't (or rather didn't) understand, and Harry panicked so hard that...

He fell, and hit his head on the floor.

Besides his own bed.

Merlin's mouldy clack dish.

Nevertheless, he had another dilemma to face now, as if a big bad dragon wasn't enough to torment him for the year. A posh grand Christmas ball.

Really, sometimes it felt like he was acting to be some strange young hero in a young adult novel this year, fighting dragons and attending posh balls with a suave aura and a stereotypical haughty princess as a partner and all that rubbish.

Right, finding a dance buddy.

There were 300 girls and 312 boys in Hogwarts, out of which 120 would have to be removed for the smaller and too older people. And there were the 27 options from the other two schools to consider as well, Harry mused.

Why was there this stupid condition of a compulsion to have a ruddy date? He could take a Slytherin along, maybe they would come to terms with his code of minimally following 'discussions as per etiquette' listed in Granger's book about balls and dates.

Yeah, she did have a book on the history of ball culture.

And yeah, he'd borrowed it, quite normally, he might add.