It Could Have Gone That Way; A Harmione Fanfiction

Chapter 3: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

Harry pushed his now empty plate away from him. He didn't think he had ever eaten so much in his life.

Hermione, however, hadn't eaten much at all. She had sat staring sadly at her plate and pushing the food around with her fork. Harry felt bad for her. He knew exactly why she was upset; she knew that Harry was already Ron's friend. Hermione also wanted to be friends with Harry but she and Ron already couldn't stand each other. That would make life very difficult for all three of them.

He patted her shoulder comfortingly and she looked up, giving him a forced smile. He smiled back.

"All right?" He whispered.

Hermione nodded,"I do hope lessons start soon. There's so much to learn. I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else. Although it is supposed to be quite difficult."

"It'll probably be a while before we're allowed to do any of that stuff. Sounds like it could be quite dangerous." Harry told Hermione, who had regained some of the colour that had faded from her face.

"Yes, I suppose so-"

"That does look good..." A ghost standing behind Ron - who was still munching his way loudly through his third piece of steak - interrupted Hermione.

"Can't you-?" Harry asked.

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years." The ghost replied sadly,"I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor tower."

"I know who you are!" Said Ron suddenly.

"Yes, of course you do, silly boy, I just introduced mys-"

"No! My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-" the ghost began stiffly.

Seamus Finnigan interrupted,"Nearly headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked very miffed, as if their conversation hadn't been going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this." He said irritably. Nick seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had clearly tried to behead him, but had not done it properly. Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, looking pleased at the surprised faces surrounding him and floated away.

************

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed, greasy-haired teacher looked past Professor Quirrell's absurd purple turban and straight into Harry's eyes, causing a sharp, hot pain to shoot across the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped his hand to his head.

"What is it?" Hermione's head whipped around to face him, her face filled with worry.

"N-nothing."

Hermione did not look as though she believed him, but let it slide as the look on Harry's face told her that he did not want to talk about it.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry looked past Hermione and at Percy Weasley.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous. That's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions but everyone knows he doesn't want to - he's after the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. That's Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."