Oh God Not Again! - Kapitola 05

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Note: Lacking a large extended family myself, I see the term 'X cousins' and can only fit them with my frame of reference for cousins (all first). I know that once you get to a certain point you're not even related but it's the calling of someone your family and wanting to be with them that I can't wrap my head around. I know other people believe differently, that's just why my personal stance is 'if you know how closely related you are to someone you are too closely related to date.' Because in my case that would be, at the most distant, second cousins.
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That night passed quite peacefully as Draco wasn't actively trying to get Harry expelled and Harry didn't see any particular reason to go and wander about discovering what he already knew about the Philosopher's Stone. Of course, that might make it harder to explain to Ron and Hermione why he felt the need to go to the corridor on the third floor that Dumbledore had mentioned involved dying a horrible, painful death. Then again, he wasn't even sure if he should involve them. Last time, he hadn't had any choice because he wasn't capable of getting through there alone and his friends knew all about Voldemort and the stone anyway. This time, he was technically a legal adult and dragging two eleven-year-old children along with him to face Voldemort seemed highly irresponsible. Come to think of it, considering that Quirrell had no chance in hell of getting the stone from the mirror, did he even need to bother going down there? But if he didn't, would Quirrell return to teach the next year? While any teacher, even a possessed one, would be better than that pompous git Lockhart, having Voldemort at Hogwarts while his Horcrux was running around attacking people would probably be a very bad idea. Hm. He'd need to give this more thought.
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His musings were interrupted by the arrival of the daily post. More specifically, by the two broom-shaped packages that required six owls each to lift. One broom went to Harry at the Gryffindor table, the other to Draco at the Slytherin. Harry raised his broom at Malfoy in a 'cheers' gesture, which the other boy returned.
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Harry quickly scanned the card. "It's a good thing that Professor McGonagall warned me not to open this broomstick-shaped package at the table. After all, something that is shaped exactly in the form of a broom can be so many, many things," Harry muttered sarcastically. "What, does she think I'm stupid or something? Or, more accurately, everyone else?"
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Ron glanced over at the card to see what he was talking about. "A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned. "I've never even touched one."
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Well, at least now I know what to get him for Christmas, Harry thought wryly. He wondered briefly why he hadn't thought to do so the first time around. Sure, first years couldn't have there own brooms at Hogwarts, but nobody actually listened to that anyway. And if Ron complained, as he was wont to do, about accepting charity, Harry could simply point to the Weasley sweater he hoped to receive. After all, Molly had sent it to him because Ron told her that he wasn't expecting any presents and if that wasn't charity, what was? Not that he minded; he'd have done anything for some charity in his early years, particularly when he was still at the Dursely's.
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After breakfast, Harry headed back to the Common Room alone as Ron had chosen to stay behind and confront Malfoy about the blatant favoritism (which really meant that Ron wished that the school would buy him his own broom) and was cornered by Hermione. "I suppose you think that this is a reward for breaking the rules?"
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"No, I think that this is a reward for me being ridiculously good at Quidditch." Harry paused. "And because my parents were brutally murdered."
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Harry grinned. "Yeah, so does everyone else. I'm just trying to keep up."
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"I still can't believe that you were rewarded for risking your life!"
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Harry nodded, his expression serious. "I know. I mean, they were never going to expel me for something like that, but at the very least I should have lost some points and gotten a detention. I realize that what I did was reckless, but you have to understand that Draco, despite his inability to hold his broom the right way, knows what he's doing. I'm apparently a prodigy, although I had no way of knowing that at the time but if I got hurt, it would have been my own fault and I would have taken responsibility for it. I guess what I don't really get is why it matters so much to you."
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"Why? Because you could have gotten seriously injured; what more reason do I need?" Hermione asked him.
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Harry laughed. "Hermione, this is a magical school, and not a particularly safe one. People get grievously injured on an hourly basis. Horrible injuries are just something you're going to have to get used to and I think you know this. So what's the real reason?"
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"I think this has more to do with the fact that we broke the rules and you seem to hold them as sacred," Harry theorized.
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Hermione reddened. "I do not! It's just that rules are put into place for our protection and as such we should follow them and not flaunt our disregard for them!"
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"That is true," Harry acknowledged. "Sometimes, maybe even most times. But I won't follow pointless rules. If I feel that something has been put in place for my own protection, then yes, chances are I'll follow it. No promises, though. And I won't purposely endanger any fellow students. Occasionally, I may do something stupid like this. I probably shouldn't, but then again, I'm eleven." Technically. "You've got to cut me some slack."
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"I suppose I can…if you really mean it about being more careful," Hermione agreed.
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"F-friends?" Hermione repeated, looking dazed.
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"Great," Harry smiled, pretending not to realize why his use of the word friends had gotten to her so much (as her magic and her intellect had always made her a bit of an outcast and he could certainly sympathize) and proceeded to his dormitory.
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And was it strange that seeing his broomstick again had been just like seeing a long-dead friend again?
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The morning of Halloween, Harry received an unexpected letter. Well, the letter was unexpected because he never got mail, but the handwriting was downright shocking.
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Quickly, Harry tore open the letter, wondering how in the world Sirius had managed to send him an owl from Azkaban. Unless…but no. He hadn't done anything drastic, like getting sorted into Slytherin, for Sirius to break out for, so how could the timeline have possibly been moved up?
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