Harry Potter and the Adventure He Affectionately Calls Life

Ron and Hermione were standing, staring out the window at nothing in particular, just holding each other. Harry crept up behind them and covered Hermione's eyes. "Guess who?"

"I wonder," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Hermione, Ron, come quick," Harry said breathlessly. He was flushed from running from the club and up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.

"What?" Ron asked, puzzled. "What?"

"Just come." He ran out, Hermione and Ron close behind him. He stopped at the entrance to Gryffindor tower, pulling out of his pocket a sachet of Floo Powder. "We'll take the shortcut." Harry, now a master of Floo-ness, yelled "LIBERATION" in the fire place and was whisked away. Hermione looked at Ron, shrugged, then followed him.

Ron came through the fire place a few minutes later. He looked around.

"Everything's almost done," Harry explained. And it was. The stage was black with heavy black velvety curtains behind it. Harry had ordered the latest torches; the flames changed colors every so often. There were chairs and tables of gleaming, polished cherry wood and a bar in the back.

"Harry," Hermione gushed. "It's gorgeous." She stood on the stage, looking a bit silly wearing sneakers and jeans and a t-shirt.

"Now 'Mione," Harry lectured jokingly. "Listen. When you auditioned, you were staring directly at Ron during your love song."

"So?"

"You have to look at the listeners, not just Ron."

"I quit."

Ron rushed on stage. "Okay, I'm here. What's the problem?"

"Hermione'll only sing to you."

Ron grinned, obviously pleased with himself.

"That's bad."

Ron's grin disappeared.

"Ron, you'll be there opening night."

"Of course."

"You won't be sitting at the VIP tables."

"Why the hell not?"

"You'll be back here, walking along the line of masking tape I'll h

"Why?"

"This way Hermione will follow you and the audience will be sung to... kind of..."

"Oh." Ron shrugged. "Sounds good."

"Good. Now Hermione, come here. There's something else you need to see." Hermione came running. She leaned her head on Ron's shoulder. Harry whipped out his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa," he said, pointing to a space in the middle of the stage.

"Harry, there's nothing there."

"Harry!" Ron said. "Wow!"

Hermione stared at it, her mouth open in shock. "Wow, Harry. Wow."

Harry grinned wildly at them. "Liberation is now ready to open. Hermione, I'll have you three times a week for singing rehearsals." Hermione nodded. "Other than that, we're good to go."

___________________________________________________________________

Later on, our favorite trio, Lana Weasley, afense Against the Dark Arts.

"Pop quiz," Professor Fiora announced, distributing the parchments. "You have fifteen minutes."

The class took out their quills and started scribbling furiously. Professor Fiora collected the parchments at the end of the quiz and sat down at her desk. "I will be grading these right now," she said, taking out her wand. "Correktus", she said, and looked down at the papers in front of her. "Tut, tut," she said, frowning. "I'm very disappointed. The highest grade was scored by Hermione Granger." (Hermione grinned, pleased.) "Of course, she didn't pass, so neither did the rest of you."

Hermione was shocked. "You're kidding, right?"

"I kid you not, Miss Granger."

Hermione's lower lip trembled; she was going to start crying.

"And Mr. Weasley, you recieved the lowest score."

Ron winced.

"With a grand total of... zero points, you are by far the biggest idiot I have ever had the pleasure to teach."

Ron's faced turned beet red. Draco snickered.

"Mr. Malfoy, you didn't do much better. You recived a three. And Mr. Potter, before you grin, you recived the same score as Mr. Malfoy. As for the rest of the scores... Mr. Longbottom, you should be proud. You managed to get one point higher than Mr. Weasley. Miss Weasley... an eight... Mr. Finnigan... A fourteen... Misters Crabbe and Goyle both got two's..."

"Now check the text book."

Hermione did. She frowned. "Everything in this book is the exact opposite of the notes we learned in class."

"Exactly. And the text book is the expert. Why were your answers not from the book? She slammed a bright pink paper weight against the wall, it shattering into a million peices. "Why?"

"Um..." Hermione squirmed in her seat. "We haven't used the book at all."

"That's no excuse. I don't tell you to drink water or go down to dinner at night, do I?" The class remained silent. "Do I?" she yelled in Hermione's ear. "Answer me, Miss Granger."

"No you don't, Professor."

"Do I tell you to cuddle up to your boyfriend at night?"

"No you don't, Professor."

"Do I tell you to go to the library? Do I tell you everything?"

"No you don't, Professor," Hermione said, tears now streaming down her face.

"Then why must I tell you to read the fucking text book?" She slammed Hermione's textbook against the desk, causing her to jump five feet in the air. "WHY?" She looked at the rest of the class. "Get out, all of you. You stupid Slytherins and Gryffindors. Get out before I change my mind."

The class didn't need to be told twice. They left immediately.

__________________________________________________________

While Ron and Lana comforted Hermione, Harry went to find Dumbledore. No one but no one treated his friends like that, he reminded himself, fuming. He sat down in front of the Gargoyle's statue and waited for Professor Dumbledore to return.

Harry sat there for about an hour when the Headmaster decided to come along. "Mr. Potter!" he exclaimed, his face registering surprise. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to have a word with you, sir."

"Very well." He told the gargoyle the password and the ascended the spiraling staircase. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing, sir. I just wanted to talk to you about Professor Fiora."

"Oh?" He poured himself a goblet of water. "Do you want some?"

Harry shook his head politely.

"What about her?"

Dumbledore nodded, sipping his water. "And?"

"The highest grade was scored by Hermione."

Dumbledore smiled, the smile reaching his eyes. "That's a surprise."

"Hermione failed. She got, like, a twenty or someting."

"Out of a hundred?"

"Even if it was out of fifty, she still got a three. Ron got a zero."

"You must not have been very prepared for this quiz," Dumbledore said to him.

"That's not it. Hermione pointed out that her answers matched the notes from class. And then Professor Fiora said that we should have made the answers from the book. But first of all, the book and the notes, according to 'Mione, anyway, are completely opposites. And secondly, we haven't had to look at the book since we got it. Maybe we had one assignment, but that's it..." Harry frowned, trying to remember. "That's not important. If we all failed, that's fine, but she was being a bit-"

Dumbledore coughed.

"Erm. Sorry. She was being very rude about it. She called us 'stupid Gryffindors and Slytherins' and she made Hermione cry."

"That's not very nice."

"Not at all, Professor."

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"Nothing. I just thought you ought to know."

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you. Do keep me informed of Fiora's progress. It seems you aren't the first to complain about her. Mr. Malfoy doesn't like her, either. And Miss Bones, too, has been reduced to tears."

Harry sighed, relieved that he wasn't the only one to file a complaint. "Thanks, Professor."

"Not at all a problem, Harry. Good day."

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Harry, Lana, Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Ginny were all walking leisurely through the streets of Diagon Alley. Hermione wanted to see if she could find something nice for the opening of Liberation, and Lana thought it was best if they all went to Gringotts and withdrew some money and had to exchanged for American money for the upcoming trip to Miami.

"How much do you think we'll need?" Hermione asked Lana.

Lana shrugged. "About a hundred fifty or so. There's going to be a lot of shopping. I love shopping."

"Me t.

"I'll probably need to get a sweater to wear there," Draco said.

Lana looked at him strangely. "Draco, it's Miami. It's hot. Very hot. You'll need shorts, t-shirts, and swim suits." Then she frowned. "Harry, Herm, and Draco, you guys know how to swim, right?"

Hermione and Draco nodded, but Harry was a little unsure. "Not well. And I don't suppose we can use any gillyweed."

Ron and Hermione laughed at this while Draco, Ginny, and Lana looked at them in confusion. "Long story," Ron explained.

"It's okay, Harry. By the time you leave Miami, you'll learn how to swim."

The walked into Gringotts, and since there were six of them, they had to take two carts down to the vaults. Ron and Ginny sat together since they were in the same vault. Draco and Harry sat in the cart as Hermione, and Lana went with her cousins. "It's the Weasley express!" she said cheerfully, waiting for Ron to kiss Hermione goodbye.

A hundred and fifty galleons, plus some for the Diagon Alley shopping... best make it two hundred. Harry and Draco both had the same thought, and thus both withdrew 200 galleons from their account. Ginny and Ron decided to share, and withdrew 50 each. Hermione thought one hundred and fifty was a bit extreme, and settled on a hundred. Lana didn't withdraw anything. She said something about an ATM at home.

"Um... you guys? I meant a hundred and fifty dollars, not galleons."

"Oh." Draco shrugged. "How much is 150 galleons in American money?"

"Hmm?" he grunted, looking up from As the Witch Burns on the small television.

"He'd like to exchange one hundred and fifty galleons for US dollars, please."

The goblin glared at them, obviously upset that he was going to miss the racy sex scene between a witch dressed in black lacy lingerie and a muscluar wizard wearing nothing but a silver loin cloth. "One moment," he said, taking the gold and walking away. He came back a few minutes later handing Draco a few peices of green paper.

"Wow," Lana said. "Wow."

"What the hell are these papers for?"

"That's US dollars, Draco! That's almost eleven-hundred dollars worth of gold."

The goblin dropped two shiny silver coins into his hand and grunted something that Lana took to be a good-bye. "1,099.50."

"How much is that in pounds?" Harry wanted to know.

"Excuse me," Lana said politely to the Goblin. "How much is that in pounds?"

The goblin let out an exasperated sigh. "One moment."

Lana peered at the TV. The wizard was kind of cute... Apparantly, Silver Loin Cloth Man had gotten the witch with the black lacy bra pregnant, but she was married to his brother. Silver Loin Cloth Man was in love with her. He took Black Lacy Bra into his arms and kissed her passionately.

"Lana?" Draco asked. "Are you watching As the Witch Burns?"

"Do you see anything else to watch?"

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Seven-hundred and fifty pounds," the goblin said. "Can I help you with anything else?"

"Actually," Draco spoke up with a sparkle in his eyes. "You can."

The goblin glared at him with such an I hate you, you son of a bitch look in his eyes that Draco backed away.

"But I could always just find out later," he said, smiling nervously. He grabbed Lana's arm and nodded towards the others. "Let's get out of here."

__________________________________________________________________

Ron, Ginny, Lana, and Draco were sitting on plush couches waiting for Harry and Hermione to pick out a dress for her to wear on opening night. Lana was bored. She turned to Draco. "Draco?"

"Yeah?"

Ron looked flustered. "Happen? B-b-between them?"

"Not Hermione and Harry, stupid," she said, rolling her eyes. "Black Lacy Bra and Silver Loin Cloth Man."

"Oh. Lacy Bra's name is Francessca. And Silver Loin Cloth Man's name Lucius. And no, I don't want to think of my father in a loin cloth."

Ron shuddered.

"What, Weasley?"

"I just thought of you in a loin cloth."

"Ron, don't ever do that again." Lana shook her head, as if she was trying to get the idea out of her head.

Ginny wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and everyone laughed.

"And what was up with that goblin at the counter? Draco, I thought he would kill you for interrupting him."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I know! That's why we left!" He looked at Lana, her eyes shining as she laughed at the image of Draco cowering under the glare of a goblin. She was so beautiful, it hurt to look at her.

Harry came running. "We found it," he announced. "The perfect dress."

"Of course," he said as if she had asked if one plus one was two. "On the opening night of the club."

"Harry! That's not fair!"

"Sure it is."

Lana pouted. She snaked her arms around him and kissed him. "For me?" she said, batting her eyelashes at him dramatically.

"Not even for you," he said, grinning.

Draco thought he was a fool. I would have done anything for her. I would have gone to the ends of the earth and back.

"Hey, Draco?" Lana asked him.

"Yeah?"

Lana grinned. "Picture Harry in a silver loin cloth."

Draco groaned. "Lana Weasley, you've scarred me for life."