Him - A Harry Potter Love Story

Chapter Two

A/N Just for future reference, because it's been so long since I've read the books, this story may follow the format of the movies more often than not. Thank you!

Harry leads me back into the compartment with Ron and Hermione, sending glares at them both when they open their mouths, obviously to ask if I had been crying. The rest of the trip is uneventful, my unexplained outburst making the others slightly less cheerful.

When we get to Hogwarts it's raining, and Harry is still worrying about me. Since I'm being so quiet, as we get out of the carriages he asks me if I'm okay once again.

"I'm fine, Harry," I assure him, moving my dripping hair back from my face to look at him. "You helped me a lot. I needed someone to talk to."

"You're certain?" he asks, taking off his glasses to wipe them on a dry part of his robes. I smile, nodding a little.

"Positive. Thank you for being such a great friend, Harry, really." We continue to walk toward the castle.

I don't ever notice Harry's smile fall a little whenever I say the word 'friend' that night.

"I'm really hungry," I groan, hurrying into the Great Hall. I wring out my hair a little, hoping Hermione knows some sort of drying spell. Sure enough, as soon as we get to the Gryffindor table, she's completely dry and pointing her wand at Ron.

"You're always hungry," Harry snickers. I raise an eyebrow at him, grinning.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Cassie, you eat just as much as Ron," he laughs. I try to stop myself from laughing too, but I can't help but join him. It's true - I love food, if anything, more than Ron.

Hermione dries Harry and I off, and we sit down. As usual, McGonagall leads out all the first years. Harry and I don't pay much attention and are talking quietly during it, most of the time him teasing me about dinner, which does not even begin to help my growling stomach.

Finally, all the first years are seated, and Dumbledore stands, ready to give his speech. Harry and I stop talking, staring at the old man as he begins to speak.

It all starts out okay until he announces quidditch would be cancelled for the year.

I let out a small groan, burying my face in my hands. Harry mutters something under his breath angrily. A lot of others (especially the Weasley twins) take it upon themselves to start yelling in protest.

The uproar lasts about half a minute until Dumbledore is able to silence everyone again. He follows up on the quidditch announcement by telling us about the Triwizard Tournament.

I can feel my stomach turning as he explains what it was. Only one thought is running through my mind as he tells us the dangers of the game, and how many witches and wizards have been severely injured in the past from it.

Harry's going to join.

Thankfully, Dumbledore notices everyone getting all excited and announces that you have to be seventeen to enter. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding in, resting my elbow on the table with my chin propped on my palm. Obviously I'm one of the only ones who is happy about this, for many decide to stand up and yell again (once again including the Weasley twins).

"Thank goodness. I was worried Harry or Ron would enter," Hermione says as she turns back to look at me. I let out a small laugh.

"Same here." I start to wonder why I hadn't worried about Ron entering - if anything, he would before Harry. They're both stupid, but Ron...

"What did Hermione say? I couldn't hear her." Harry whispers to me as Dumbledore quiets everyone for the third time. He moves on to the rest of the speech, going over the rules for the first years.

"Oh, just how we were worried you might want to join," I reply without thinking.

"I wasn't planning on joining, but...why is it good that I can't?" he asks, not saying it like I had been rude, but truly curious.

I feel a blush flood through my cheeks. "Oh, I mean...I didn't..."

Suddenly the doors to the hall fly open, slamming against the walls. A man limps in, scars scattered over his face and neck, a large overcoat covering the rest of his body.

The entire room goes silent. As startled as I am, I'm thankful for the distraction. Why did I just freak out like that? Harry's my friend, of course I don't want him to join.

Just then the ceiling erupts in thunder and lightning, causing many students to gasp out in fear. I flinch, as does Harry next to me.

The man in the doorway lets out a noise of anger and swings his cane up harshly at the swirling clouds. There is a loud noise as light floods from the tip of the mangled wood, sweeping the storm away in just a few short seconds.

"Blimey, that's Mad-Eye-Moody!" Ron whispers in awe as the man slowly walks down the center of the room. As he comes closer, I start to tense up, noticing one of his eyes is made of glass, some sort of leather strap around his head to keep it in place. I can't help but grimace as the fake one flickers over toward me, the real one straight in front of him. It continues to stare at me as he walks, then looks to Harry for a few more seconds before following suit of the real eye.

"Bloody hell," I whisper, glancing over at Harry. He seems almost as worried about the man as I do, especially since he had only seemed to notice us.

He continues to hobble up to the table in the front of the room, sending a quick nod to Dumbledore before plopping down in an empty seat.

"As you can all see, we have a new friend here," Dumbledore continues, appearing much calmer than most others in the room. "This is your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher - Professor Moody."

A scowl resides on his face as light applause scatters across the room. I can't help but grin a little at Snape, who wears his usual glare as he stares at the man. I find it incredibly funny that they never let him take the job; as mean as that is, I really hate him. He never lets any of the Gryffindors get away with any tiny thing, especially not Harry.

Dumbledore continues the speech, and finally after what seems like forever, lets us eat. I can't restrain myself from piling everything onto my plate the second it appears, practically climbing over the table for certain things.

"Shut it, Potter," I hiss at Harry, who's laughing as he watches me.

"I don't know how you aren't fat. You eat more than this whole table combined."

"What did I say?!"

"Sorry!"

Edited 7/8/18