Harry, Draco and Ron: Vampire Hunters

Chapter IV. On the train.

Ah, now the time has come,
When all is said and done,

We're back together on the road,

It's time to fly...

- Manowar "Return of the Warlord"

Harry had settled in an empty compartment, still thinking why he hit Malfoy.

"Well, that ignorant, self-loving, arrogant git deserves no better handling!" he thought, "But since when did I start to resort to physical violence?"

His train of thoughts was interrupted by the fact that the train had started and that Ron had forced himself into the same compartment as Harry, and was now sitting across from him. Harry just opened his mouth to speak when the compartment door opened once again, letting in a bleeding Malfoy, a very unsure Hermione and a very angry McGonagall.

"Care to explain why you hit Mr. Malfoy on the face, Mr. Potter?" she asked.

"Er... Yes. He was making fun of me and I told him that I'll hit him if he wouldn't stop. He didn't," said Harry.

"And you think that verbal insults are a reason that justifies violence, especially against prefects?" McGonagall asked, her voice even stricter than before. Only now Harry had noticed that both Hermione and Malfoy had prefect badges pinned to their robes. Nevertheless, he gathered all the remainder of dignity he had (and since there was not much left, he did it pretty quickly).

"Yes, for this was not the first time he did it. Besides, he had the power of numbers on his side as Crabbe and Goyle were also there," Harry explained, feeling that he's already in more trouble than he could have been if he'd said something like "I'm sorry, it won't happen again" in the very beginning. Malfoy was already grinning broadly behind McGonagall's back; he was still holding his handkerchief to his nose, trying to stop the bleed.

"Is this true?" McGonagall asked as she turned to face Malfoy and Hermione.

"No!" said Malfoy, making a very good impression of an honest face.

"Yes!" said Hermione at the same time.

"Well, I think there is only one way to solve this problem then," McGonagall said thoughtfully. "A detention for you Mr. Potter, for letting your adrenaline do the thinking for you, and a detention for you as well, Mr. Malfoy, since insulting other students and thus provoking them to fight is not the best behaviour for a prefect," she finally said with a hint of steel in her voice.

Harry smiled inwardly; he was expecting to get something worse, like serving that detention with Snape, or even worse, with Malfoy.

"Oh, and, by the way, you will be serving that detention together," she added before leaving.

Harry could see Malfoy's usually deathly-white face turn to a healthy (for other people) shade of pink, which meant the utmost state of redness for him.

"But professor..." they both started simultaneously, "... why?"

"To right your wrongs, and, maybe, even make peace," she replied. Having said that, she walked away towards the head carriage.

"Nice move, Potter. Now she'll make us do horrible things like teach Transfiguration to first years!" Malfoy spat.

"What, you're afraid of little children, Malfoy?" Harry retaliated. Malfoy opened his mouth as if to make a comeback, but closed it, looking as if he either was not in the mood for another word-fight, or that he had suddenly remembered some urgent unfinished business elsewhere on this train. Whatever it was, he made himself scarce pretty quickly.

*****

"So, how'd I do?" Harry asked after Malfoy left.

"Horrible. You'll get into more trouble if you don't keep yourself in line; she's already mad at you about refusing to be a prefect," said Hermione, "though I think it has more to do with Neville' reaction to his letter..."

"What reaction?" Ron asked.

"Well, he McGonagall says he arrived with a small limp, because he was so shocked that he was made a prefect he fell out of his chair."

"What does his limp got to do with that?" Ron asked again.

"Well, he broke his leg and his grandmother decided that mending the bone the Muggle way would teach him how to be more careful. Looks like the bone got mended improperly."

"Eeewww!" Harry eewed. "That means he'll have his leg re-broken so the bones can be mended properly now?"

"Luckily, no. Madam Pomfrey will be able to solve that little problem when we arrive, though I don't think she'll be very happy with it," Hermione replied.

"She never is happy with anything," Harry said suddenly.

"Why do you think so?" Hermione asked.

"Well, because there are always people trying to visit the people in her priso... er... care," Harry corrected himself quickly under Hermione's accusing glare. Of all the three he had the least fond memories of being in the hospital wing, probably it had something to do with the fact that since he was The Boy Who Lived and a Quidditch player he was a frequent visitor of Madam Pomfrey's.

"Besides, she doesn't seem to like badly done bone mending," he added as an afterthought, remembering the horror of Gilderoy Lockhart removing the bones from Harry's broken arm entirely.

"Harry, that reminds me, just why did you refuse to be a prefect?" Hermione asked matter-of-factly.

"First. I am You-Know-Who's worst enemy. Second. I am Draco Malfoy's worst enemy. Third. I am a Quidditch player. Fourth. I am Severus Snape's enemy. Fifth. I am only human. I simply decided that I've had enough excitement for the rest of my life already, thank you very much." Harry replied somewhat angrily.

"Alright, stay calm! Did I offend you?"

"No..." Harry lowered his eyes; he was staring at the floor now, like a child awaiting scolding.

"Then what are you angry at?"

"Well, that git Malfoy--"

"So what? You really had to hit him, did you?" Hermione's voice was full of accusation.

"Excuse me, is this a psychiatry session?"

"What's a psy--" Ron started.

"Not now, Ron!" Hermione interrupted him.

"Fine, if you wish. Have it your way then," Ron said angrily and stormed out.

"Now look what you did!" Harry said and followed him.

"Great. Blame it all on the girl." Hermione muttered.

*****

"Listen, she didn't--" Harry started.

"She didn't what?" Ron interrupted. "This was turning into a tete-a-tete thing, and I did not want to interrupt."

"Nonsense. You like her, don't you?"

"What?" Ron looked genuinely surprised by Harry's words.

"That's it, you're jealous because it's not you in trouble for hitting a prefect and risking being expelled not for being a model student everyone wants you to be," Harry said, his tone emotionless mostly, just as if he was stating the oh-so-obvious.

"Listen, I don't know what you meant by that--"

"I meant that you have to go back in and apologize. She is worried about you, you know."

"She looked to be more worried about you."

"That's because it's my head that'll be chopped off tomorrow, not yours," said Harry, his eyes showing that he was completely sure of what he was saying.

"Alright," said Ron. "You're right Harry, I've been a git and--"

"It's her you have to assure of that, not me," said Harry.

"Right."

*****

"You all right?" he asked as he stepped back into the compartment.

Hermione was sobbing into her handkerchief, not paying attention to his words.

"Listen, I've been a git and--" he stopped suddenly. She was still sobbing.

"Will you stop that for a moment?" he asked, the fight to keep his voice calm evident.

"O-okay," she said, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief.

"I just wanted to tell you that I... er... well..." Ron stammered, then took a deep breath in and went on, "I'm sorry, I've been a complete git and I want you to forgive me. Will you? Please?"

She looked up at him from the soaking-wet handkerchief she was still holding in her hands.

"Y-yes," she whispered. Suddenly, as if made by someone else, Ron bent forward, Hermione, evidently understanding what this was coming to, did the same, but, as their faces were only millimeters away from each other, the compartment door opened and they both pulled back quickly, turning towards the door. It was Harry.

"Er... I see that I have interrupted you two. You have only five minutes to finish whatever you were doing before we arrive at Hogsmeade," said Harry. "Friends again?" he asked.

Both of them nodded and turned back to each other as Harry closed the door and stood guard at it until the train stopped at the Hogsmeade station and the slightly red-faced Hermione and Ron, both smiling, emerged from it.

*****

"Firs' years this way! Firs' years this way!" boomed a loud voice. "Firs'-- Oh, 'lo there, Harry, Hermione, Ron!" said Hagrid the half-giant, who also happened to be the keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts and the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, when he saw the three walking past him and waved.

"Hi, Hagrid!" all three of them said, waving back.

Ginny, who was also walking from the train, had shot Harry a quizzical look. He made a face of the I-don't-understand-what-you-mean type. She nodded towards Ron and Hermione and only now Harry had noticed the fact that the two were holding hands. Grinning broadly, he turned towards Ginny and shrugged apologetically.

As they walked up to the horseless carriages a problem stood in Harry's path: Hermione and Ron deposited themselves into a carriage that had free space only for two, as Neville and Ginny were already inside, plotting a horrible demise for Snape via an undetectable poison.

"Don't worry, I'll get into another one!" he told them and turned towards another carriage.

Much to his surprise, the only occupant of that another carriage was Cho.

"Hello, Harry!" she said happily.

"Er... Yeah, hello," Harry said, somewhat down-heartedly, his mind working at lightning-fast speed, thinking whether he should get in and be stuck with the usual awkwardness that befell him every time he was near her (mostly on the ground, though sometimes even in the air, as Cho was the seeker for Ravenclaw House) or go and find another carriage. But seeing Malfoy walking this way, Harry decided that it might mean another confrontation and he was not in the mood for such a thing, so he got in quickly, closing the door after himself.

"Hi," he said again, feeling a strange sensation racing through his head.

"Hi," she replied, her eyes showing that she was not feeling better than he was. "How was your summer?" she asked finally.

"Er... Not as bad as usual," he replied. "I got to spend most of August over at Ron's."

"Oh."

"And how was yours?"

"Not really nice..." her voice trailed off. For a moment Harry doubted if he made the right choice.

"Why so?" he asked.

"Well, I... er... I'm having nightmares," she said, her voice quavering slightly.

"Cedric?" Harry asked. She nodded as the carriage took off on its way up to the school.

"It's not that I blame you, Harry. Just I am... well, missing him," the emphasis on 'missing' struck Harry.

"I know how it feels. To tell you the truth, I too, how strange it may sound, have nightmares. More often than it is considered 'normal'. Not that what the Skeeter woman wrote during the Tournament is true, but it happens to me as well," he said earnestly.

"Wh-what do you see?" she asked, her voice a bit shaky.

"Different things, places... Sometimes Voldemort killing my parents, sometimes Cedric's death..." he had, to his surprise, noticed that she did not flinch at Voldemort's name as most people at Hogwarts did, even Hermione, who was not even born into the wizarding world, yet followed the same prejudice that saying his name might somehow call bad luck upon you.

"I suppose it's not easy to grow up without parents... Especially with such a reason as him," she said after a slight pause.

"Well, it's even worse to have people like Malfoy running around you and making you feel worse about it," said Harry.

"Harry... There's one thing I was wondering about..."

"Yes?"

"How do you cope with all that? Fame, no parents, being who you are?" she asked, leaning slightly forward. Harry felt the same feeling of extreme awkwardness coming again.

"Well, to be frank, I don't really know. It's just... Well, like an adventure, after living in a cupboard under the stairs for almost eleven years... Not that I'm complaining, but my life became a bit too exciting lately," he said, turning to the window to see that they were almost there. "Look, we're close now."

"A cupboard under the stairs?" she shuddered. "That must've been awful!" she added, leaning forward a bit more.

"Unimaginable. Getting out was... Like a breath of fresh air for me, like being born again," he said, wondering where was this going, but, nevertheless, leaning forwards as well.

"You know what, Harry? Last year, at the ball... When you watched me all the time..."

"You saw it?"

"Of course. To be completely honest, if you'd asked me before... before Cedric... I would've agreed."

"Really?" he asked as the carriage came to a halt, throwing Cho at Harry, who caught her before either of them could fall onto the floor.

"Yeah," was her reply as she bent her head forwards, kissing him lightly on the lips. To say that he was shocked would mean to say nothing. Their lips parted as quickly as they came together as Cho freed herself from Harry's grasp, not rudely, but still insistently.

"Let's go or we'll miss the Sorting," she said, standing up and straightening out her robes.

"Alright," Harry replied, still not believing his luck.

*****

As the students of second year and up seated themselves at their respective house tables, the teachers - at their table and the ghosts just hovering around, into the hall came McGonagall, the first-years following her. Harry wasn't really paying attention to what the talk at the table was, something about who will be the new Defense Against The Dark Arts professor, not really paying attention to what the Sorting Hat was singing, he was more engrossed in just simply looking at Cho, who was sitting with her Ravenclaw friends, talking and throwing occasional glances in Harry's direction.

"Harry! Oy, HARRY!" came Ron's voice suddenly.

"What?" replied a surprised Harry.

"Snap out of whatever trance you are in and check this bloke out!" said Ron, pointing.

Harry looked in the suggested direction, where "Bones, John David" was made a Gryffindor.

"And?" Harry asked.

"Look at his looks!"

John Bones turned out to be a normal eleven-year old kid who was different from others by the fact that his rather long (for a boy of his age) dark brown hair was made into a ponytail. Looking at him Harry suddenly remembered Ron's elder brother Bill, who was also sporting a ponytail.

"So what?" Harry asked. "Your brother also has a ponytail, but don't point at him, do you?"

"Never mind," said Ron rather coldly. "What were you looking at, anyway?" he added after a bit.

"Wha- Oh. Nothing," Harry lied, having just been pulled out of his session of Cho-gazing.

Again.

"What are you looking at over there; look at something (or somebody) over here!" Seamus suggested. "Look at Parvati for instance!"

Upon hearing this, Parvati made a face and said. "No Harry, better not look at me." Here she stopped, looked in the direction Harry was still looking in and added, "Or my sister."

It was evident that the memory of him taking her as a date to the Yule Ball last year was still fresh in her memory, and it sure was not a pleasant one.

"I'm not looking at your sister, Parvati, just relax," Harry replied, secretly wishing that he could disappear on the spot. But then he noticed that now Cho was talking to none other than Parvati's sister, Padma, so, technically speaking, he was looking at her after all.

"Then what are you looking at, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Ron looked at Harry, then traced what Harry was looking at with his eyes and said triumphantly "If he's not looking at Blaise Zabini, what I severely doubt, and he's not looking at Padma Patil, then he's probably looking at Cho Chang, who is currently having an engaging discussion with Padma about something."

"Really!" Parvati practically squealed, then went on, this time with a voice of a skilled and experienced radio anchorwoman. "So, Mr. Harry Potter, tell us, what is the secret love you are hiding from us?"

At these words most of the Gryffindor table turned towards the drama that was unrolling right here, before their very eyes. Much to his dismay, Harry had noticed that Ginny's facial expression was halfway from mourning over her broken dreams of living happily ever after as Mrs. Potter to pure unrefined hatred towards Harry for making that impossible. The only thing that comforted Harry in this situation was that Malfoy was too taken by telling his housemates some funny joke. Harry didn't know if it was funny or not, but the Slytherins were laughing out loud. Harry hoped that Malfoy's nose still hurt, because his fist sure did. After contemplating all this for a second or two, Harry turned back to Parvati.

"Do I make you miserable by asking what kind of underwear you wear, if any?" Harry asked angrily, as Parvati blushed violently. "No? Then leave me alone, you'll probably read it all in tomorrow's "Daily Prophet" in the newly opening weekly section called "The private life of Harry Potter we made up to boost our sales", which probably will be led by Rita Skeeter."

Having said all that, Harry filled his mouth with food and refused to talk until the very end of the feast.

*****

A/N And here we have the fourth chapter! If you're lucky you'll probably be reading this on January 7^th or even 8^th, or maybe even later, since my internet connection took a nosedive yesterday (29^th of December).

In the good news, I'm going to see CoS the movie tomorrow (it only opened in cinemas on 26^th of December).

Once again, thanks to all the reviewers, to all of those who might be waiting for the next chapter and those who just wasted ten minutes of their precious time to read all this: Irini, Technomad, lovelyginny, Squall, MinyMe, Lauren Malfoy, witchy babie 939, Aryiona, Racky (looks like I've got myself a fan!), monkeymouse.

In the next chapter: Who is the new DADA teacher? Will Harry get away with uncovering Parvati's dark secret? Will he get some? This and much, much less in the next chapter!!!

P.S. This is the slightly re-worded, re-formatted and otherwise (hopefully) improved version.